Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

OLD SPECIE. 73 and went away, so that this part of the business did not trouble him any. : A skeleton key would open the door. His position was not very comfortable, as the casket was some inches too short for him. As he did not expect to occupy his cramped quar- ters long, this did not matter. The question was, would Ben take his key and go, or venture in. In either case the detective knew he must meet an emergency face to face. ~ He could not conceive that Ben would come away out here just to hunt for his key, which he had lost. © Some more powerful motive drew him. Ah! his footfalls sounded on the stone steps. The suspense would soon be over. Old Specie could hear him muttering as he swung the door open. Then he entered. ‘Ab! it’s all right—everything safe. I can carry _ out my plan now. When I—what’s this—the screw- driver, and I remember dropping it as I sprang to hit that Ramsay. But the lid is on, and—great ~ heavens, the screws are gone!”’ This fact seemed to stagger the man for about five seconds, during which time the detective could imagine him staring at the casket with horror on his face. Then siddenty the lid was torn off. Ben Bolt bent forward. The sun had just risen. His genial rays found an entrance through the open door of the tomb. Hence the interior was no longer wrapped: in heavy gloom, Eomicbooks (<(0) =|