Marion Marlowe in Cleveland, or, The Mystery of the Red Rose — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

10 Mr. Temple glanced around, but there was no doorkeeper in sight, and his first thought Was one of admiration for Mrs. Burnside. She had pluckily kept this fellow until she could send for the manager. The actress breathed a sigh of relief as Mr. Temple appeared with her beautiful lit- tle daughter still perched on his shoulder. ‘“This—er—gentleman wishes to see Miss Marlowe,” she began, quickly. ‘The door- keeper was out, but I happened to see him as he entered. He says his business with our star 1s very important, Mr. Temple.” The fellow scowled fiercely as Mr. Temple set little Ruby in her mother’s arms, and then calmly confronted him. I attend “Have you “Tam Miss Marlowe’s manager. to her business,” he said, curtly. a note or verbal message for her?” There was another scowl and a sharp glance from a pair of beady eyes; then the fellow dfew a dirty-looking parcel from his inside vest pocket. “A leetle gift for ze lady from an ad- mirer,’’ he stammered, with a strong French accent. “Ze givaire inclose his card. Bon jour, inonsieur et madame!” With an astonishingly quick movement, he placed the parcel in the manager’s hand, and the next second was gone through the door- way into the darkness. Mrs. Burnside and Mr. Temple stared at each other, then both were brought to their senses by the sound of a scuffle. The doorkeeper had come back just as the fellow darted out, and in a second he had thought of the manager's orders. He grap- pled with the fellow, and a violent scuffle ensued. As Mr. Temple pushed open the stage door, there was a flash of light and the report of a pistol. “Onick! Call help! iouted Mr. Templg, rushing outside, \Irs. Burnside rushed back into the scene He has shot him!” me up. MY QUEEN. room, shrieking, and, at her first cry, every : member of the company came flocking to the sidewalk. , ‘“He’s only winged him! Poor John! He was trying to do his duty,” said Mr. Temple, ‘“Fortu- nately; an officer saw him, and is on his track. as he helped his doorkeeper inside. I can’t go after him myself—it is time to start the orchestra.”’ “T’m all right! mured the doorkeeper, gamely. ‘‘Just let Jim here go home with me and get a doctor to fix I'll be on deck again by this time to-morrow.” Dr. Brookes took him by the hand and led him under a light. It’s only a scratch,” mur- He had a surgical case in his hands that looked decidedly business- like. “Til fix you up in a jiffy, and then you can go home,” he said. “I’m not on for twenty minutes yet, and I have Jim to assist me. The rest of you go on. You are not needed in this operation.”’ “But I can stay, surely. You know I don’t ] go on until you do, doctor,” said a thrilling voice. Marion had come with the rest when she heard Mrs. Burnside, and she was eager to assist in making the injured man comfort- able. with a smile upon his face. Dr. Brookes turned and looked at her “My little nurse is always welcome. I “You shall bandage the arm, Marion, just as soon cannot refuse her,” he said, softly. as | have bathed it.” The rest of the company went back to their dressing-rooms, but Mr. Temple bit his lips as he turned his back upon Marion and the doctor, y He had been trying for a long time to con- quer his jealousy for the doctor, but such scenes as this, where the young physician's affection fairly blazed frém his eves, made it difficult to keep his OG OIMIG, efoto) S com Fs, . sill ¢