F. Berkeley Smith.
New York, 1916.
ILLUSTRATIONS
| Lamont was again beside her pleading to take her home | [ Frontispiece] |
| FACING PAGE | |
| “I forbid you,” he cried, facing him savagely, “to dragthat child’s name before this company” | [ 210] |
| “Well, neighbor, ain’t a minute late, am I?” | [ 230] |
| “Tell me you love me,” he insisted | [ 298] |
ENOCH CRANE
CHAPTER I
Joe Grimsby stood on the door-mat—a very shabby and badly worn door-mat, I must say—trying to fit his key into the tiny slit which, properly punctured, shot back the bolt which loosened the door, admitting him to the hallway leading to his apartment on the third floor of No. 99 Waverly Place.
“Somebody must have—no, here it is. Hello, Moses, is that you? I was just going to put my knee against it and——”
The old negro janitor bowed low.
“I wouldn’t do dat, sir; ’spec’ yo’ hand is a little unstiddy. You young gemmen gets dat way sometimes, ’specially when so much is goin’ on. Hold on till I turn up de gas. It gets dark so early, can’t find yo’ way up-stairs in de broad daylight, let alone de evenin’. I jes’ lighted a fire in yo’ room.”