Laura Brayton — page 208: what you’re looking at

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

LAURA BRAYTON, 199 His hand was stretched out to slay you. I shut my eyes and screamed—then I heard a struggle. Now > all is still.” “No—there is some one in the room. I hear a sound on the floor!” said the old man. “There are matches on the table if you can but find them.” “T will try,” said the young lady. And she moved as she thought in the right direc- tion. But an instant'after, her feet came in contact with a body on the floor, and unable to control her terror, she shrieked wildly again and again. “What is the matter? Why do you’ scream?” cried Mr. Withers. “Oh, I know not. I think there is a corpse on the floor!” she cried. Heavy steps and then voices were now heard, the sounds growing louder each moment, and in a few seconds more the door opened and a policeman in uniform, with a lantern in hand, followed by two more officers, entered. “What is up here? Murder, or what?” cried the policeman, as he hurried forward, the rays of light falling on a body stretched out upon the floor. “Murder has been attempted,” cried Mr. Withers, springing from the bed with a quilt wrapped around his form. “And there lies the would-be assassin, secured in some mysterious way it seems.” And he pointed to Enoch Sharp, who, with a razor yet grasped in his hand, lay prone upon the floor bound hand and foot, with a handkerchief _ stuffed in his mouth so that he could not speak. “What does all this mean?” exclaimed the be- wildered officer. | “Tt means that this wretch, who. has been the agent in charge of my property during my years of (e(o) comicbooks