Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

118 OLD SPECIE. - He wanted no doubts as to the cause of Amy’s death to spring up in the future when he was enjoy- ing the benefit of her fortune. And now it was over. | He had returned to the house—his house—without the shadow of remorse for the awful act he had gone through with. 7 Some men seem to have been born without that useful faculty for self reproach, yclept a conscience, and consequently do not seem to feel remorse. All they think of in connection with a crime in the past is the danger of discovery. Eliminate that and they are happy. It is a strange world this, and it takes all manner of people to fill it. Caldwell did not seem to notice that there was some one in the library. It was dark there to him after coming from the bright sunshine outside. The detective coughed. Turning instantly the other stared at him. “Mr. Caldwell, I presume.”’ ‘“Who the duse are you?”’ “Allow me.”’ He passed the other a bit of pasteboard. Holding it toward the light that struggled in through a window, he read aloud: ‘“TIMOTHY JENKINS, “Attorney and Counselor at Law, ‘Temple Court.’’ Then he looked at the intruder. ‘"A lawyer, eh?”’ ‘Exactly, sir.’’ ‘*May I ask your business here?”’ Comicbooks €o =|