Marion Marlowe's Skill, or, A Week as a Private Detective — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

MY Merton more in love with her than ever. It was both her innocence and her cleverness 4 hat were charming him now, for together ey formed a most fascinating combination. A few hours later Marion was peering at ‘the squalid tenement-houses in one of the ‘most wretched streets in the city, looking sharply for the number which Danny, the cripple, had sent her. She found it at last, and as she mounted the rickety steps that led to the door, a pair of sharp eyes gazed down at her from a battered window. Danny, the cripple, was a reality indeed; and as he stood peering through the window, with his crutch in his hand, he presented a pitiful spectacle of misfortune. He was a slight boy of ten, a hunchback, and deformed by one wretched leg, with a face distorted by P ain and viciousness. As soon as he saw Marion coming he h obbled across the hall, making no sound v jith his crutch, for fear that she would hear him. 7 ~ . | “She’s a comin’! She’s a comin’ ? he P whispered, shrilly, as he pushed open a dirty are and confronted Liz O’Connell. . San be quick wid yez! Inter ther bed | bea groanin’ loike mad!” whispered the woman, sharply. as she ran over and dragged the cot out of the dirty closet. _ “Now, remember, you brat, not a wurrd or rn break iviry bone in yer miserable body! Make her think ye air so sick that yer likely ter croak in er minit an’ if she comes down -han’some youse shall have a fair share 0’ ther divvy.” _ There was no time to say more, for Marion Was tapping on the door. She had been directed to Liz O’Connell’s _ landing. _ The crippled lad had hidden himself un- _ der the tattered blanket, but at her knock he suddenly began groaning—such pitiful, heart-rending groans that Liz O’Connell fearly bent double in her efforts to keep = laughing. “Youse are doin. it iemeirel—etp it up -she’s a good graft,” she whispered, and ~ pst then there came a louder rap, so there Was no more time to be wasted. QUEEN. rooms by a blear-eyed woman out on the 23 Putting her apron to her eyes, Liz O’Con- nell limped to the door. As she opened it Marion stepped in, her eyes dilated with horror. és 1 * . . . Qh, madam! who is groaning so terri- bly ?” she asked at once. Liz wiped her eyes with her apron and pointed to the cripple. As Marion caught sight of his face her heart almost stopped beating. It was the most distorted countenance that she had ever seen, and the groans were so pitiful that she nearly fainted when she heard them. “Is that Danny, madam?”’ she managed to say. Then, with a heroic effort, she bent over and knelt by him. “Poor lad! Poor little lamb,’ moaned Liz ©’Connell behind her apron. “Sure he’s that bad loidy that ’m afeard he’s a dyin’. | sint fer ther docther, but Hivin only knows what’s ter pay him.”’ ‘“T will attend to that,” said Marion, with- out looking up. “You are a good, kind woman to try to take care of him.” There was a-step behind her, but Marion did not turn her head, for just at that mo- ment Danny groaned more piteously than ever. “Oh, you poor, poor boy!” said the young girl, softly, as she leaned forward and put one hand on the distorted forehead. That instant a heavy blanket was thrown over Marion's head and wound so tightly about her throat that it completely stifled her. Then two strong arms reached around her and pinioned her arms. She was a prisoner in the place to which she had come as a ministering angel. CHAPTER XIIf. A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE. Five minutes later the scene had changed. The blanket was unwound from Marion's head, and only just in time, for she was choking badly. Liz O'Connell fanned her vigorously while some one held water to her lips, and after moments of misery Marion revived a little. When she looked around she found tha; GOMIGIOOKSAGO