Marion Marlowe in Cleveland, or, The Mystery of the Red Rose — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

12 “You impudent boy! I’d like to see my- self!" retorted Miss Ellis, scornfully; then she was obliged to leave him, and the con- versation ended. “Well, so far all is well! There’s not a sign of the masher with the red, red rose in the house,’’ said the stage-manager to Mar- ion, as the curtain fell upon the third act, “There are chaps with chrysanthemums and all sorts of posies in their button-holes; but I’ve looked the house over carefully, and there’s not a rose of any sort or descrip- tion.” ‘ ‘I guess he’s changed his mind or trans- ferred his affection,” laughed Olcott. “Those cranks are always uncertain in their doings. Perhaps he bas even forgotten that Miss Marlowe was the object of his passion, and has gone to some other theatre to spend the evening.” “T hope to goodness he has! One crank in a night is enough,” said Mrs. Burnside, ner- vously. “I feel almost sure that that fellow was the one. He asked for Miss Marlowe and left a parcel for her. By the way, did you get it?” she asked, suddenly, turning to Marion. The young girl was on her way to her dressing-room, but she turned her head to answer: “T have not seen any parcel, Mrs. Burn- side. Are you sure he left one?” “Certain! He gave it to Mr. Temple just as he darted out. Ten chances to one he has it in his pocket.”’ “T’'ll ask him. I’ve got to go to the front,” said Olcott, obligingly. “Pm not on again until the last act. It won't take me a minute to wash off my make- up.” | ) “I’m very curious to knew what it could be,” said Marion, seriously. “Well, according to the bearer’s appear- ance, | should judge it might be a box of spaghetti,’ langhed Mrs, Burnside. “‘He was the most dagoish-looking Frenchman I ever set eyes on!” “And a cold-blooded murderer, probably, at that.” chimed in Bert; ‘‘but that sort of thing seems to be the proper caper in Cleve- land just now. There were several people shot On the street-cars to-day, according to the evening paper. MY QUEEN. “And no end of accidents from brickbats and stones,’ remarked Dick Hinton. “It is very apparent that King Riot reigns. The mayor seems helpless to protect his people.” “Well, we will try to protect ours a little better than we have,” said Mr. Temple, com- ing up. “I blame myself for that affair, this ; evening. With the city in such a turmoil I should have been more careful.” “Have they caught him, Mr. Temple?” asked a dozen voices. “Not yet, although I’ve been hoping to hear to the contrary. He must have run like * a deer. The policeman lost him completely? ‘How about that parcel—the one he left for Miss Marlowe?” asked Mrs. Burnside, eagerly. Marion had just reached the door of her dressing-room, but she turned back to hear the answer. P ‘“T am sorry to say that I have lost it,” said Mr. Temple, soberly. “I remember that the fellow almost forced it into my hand, but the _ scuffle and the pistol shot rattled me com- pletely. I haven't the remotest idea what I did with the parcel.” ‘Have you searched your pockets ?” “Yes, and everything else! I’ve had every employee of the theatre searching for it,” was the answer. ° “T am almost sure you put it in your pocket,” said Mrs. Burnside, thoughtfully. “Then my pocket must have been picked while I was on the sidewalk,’ was the an- swer; “and there was not a soul around, ex- cept the members of my company.” “Oh, well, then, I must be mistaken,” said Mrs. Burnside; slowly. As she spoke, she glanced up and saw Marion near her. The young actress had come back to hear what Mr. Temple was saying; and,‘as she listened, her glance rested unconsciously upon the face of Miss Chester, Mrs. Burnside’s eyes turned immediately in the same direction. Neither had the slightest significance in their glance, but, as Miss Chester saw it, her face flushed crim- son. In an instant she turned on her heel and rushed toward her dressing-room. Mar- — ion and Mrs. Burnside looked at each other, but there was nothing said, They were comicbooks-com