Laura Brayton — page 113: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

104 : LAURA BRAYTON. “No trace of that Ben Hawk yet?” asked Sharp, moodily. “Traces enough, but nary chance to get a claw on him. He’d never get time to squeak if I could once get in reach of him. He seems to know all about me. He has sent mea dozen different mes- sages to meet me here and there, and every time I’m fooled. I don’t like it. I’ve spent my time, and your money, and haven’t nothing to show for it. That isn’t my style.” “T don’t blame you,” said Sharp, in the same moody, disheartened tone. “I too have been foiled for the first time in my life on every hand. The girl whom I have raised under this roof for only one object, to crown the vengeance of a life-time, has escaped from my hands, and the best detective in the city has failed to find ker. Allin the dark as to whom I really am to battle with, 1am drawn into law by one of the keenest and strongest lawyers in the country, and an amount claimed from me which would make me a beggar if I were defeated. I seem to meet everything in the dark of late. That this house is haunted, I know. I will not leave it. Groans, and clanking chains, and clammy hands upon my hot and feverish face, and horrible dreams terrify me, but they shall not drive me away. But sit down, Joe, I must look at my papers. I have a demurrer to draw up.” The lawyer arose from his chair, and limping, rather than hopping as he used to do, to his safe, took out a package of papers from one of the pigeon-holes. — Returning to his table he untied the red tape which bound the bundle. — “Heavens!” he screamed, fairly idenine from his _ comicbooks €o m ¥ ’ ae