Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

OLD SPECIE. 143 A tempest was brewing. Feet sounded on the stairs. Snyder was coming down. He had on his trousers and shirt, but was in his slipper feet. Looking at him, he seemed ugly. Old Specie met him near the foot of the stairs. He saw the man had a pistol in his hand. “Stop right where you are!”’ ‘‘Ain’t you going to let me see that meter?”’ ‘*T tell you there ain’t any in the house.”’ ‘‘And I believe there is. If you don’t let me see, I’71l be back with an officer and a search warrant.’’ This staggered the man somewhat. “You get out of here, and go back to the place you came from. They’ll tell you it’s all a mistake. You ain’t going prowling around here if I know what’s what.” “But, my friend——’’ ‘“Not a word!”’ wa [nesaben Td ‘Scoot, or I’ll give you a lead pill.” Why did not John appear behind, as he was ex- pected to? Surely there had been plenty of time for him to accomplish his work. Old Specie knew the man would not stand any more nonsense. He must pretend to obey, and whirling suddenly upon him, use his own revolver if it was necessary. ‘You invite trouble, sir. I shall certainly be back again soon, and then——”’ ‘‘Are you going?’’ shouted the man, for the howl- ing of the dog-fiend in the back yard had now reached a terrible pitch. - Gomicboo gS) (E(0) =|