Laura Brayton — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

b } LAURA BRAYTON, __ 153 Neither man nor fiend can terrify him. I am sorry now I did not let him have his way, with his des- peradoes, and sweep the room when he wished. Better all here, myself included, had died then, than that on the day after to-morrow I should be defeated, and lose all for which I have spent a life’s labor. I will not be defeated. I cannot be, without the dead rise from the grave to witness against me.” “They will! They will!” rolled in a low, hollow tone through the room, : | Enoch Sharp had turned to go into his front office, carrying the lamp in his hand. But when these © words struck his ear, with a groan he turned around. What did he see? Why with a wild cry did he drop his lamp and sink senseless to the floor? The figure of a female, clad in snowy white, press- ing a babe to her bosom with one white hand, while the forefinger of the other pointed up. That was what he saw, and which, thrilling his already terror-stricken soul with horror, sent him swooning to the floor beside the’ miserable tool whom he had driven into a hundred crimes. How long he lay senseless there Enoch Sharp did not know, but when he came to his senses he crept close up to the drunken form of Bartram and there he lay shivering, yet wide awake, until the morning dawned. comicbooks (alo)