Marion Marlowe in Denver, or, The Tragedy of Pike's Peak — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

va MY QUEEN. 7 her cheeks were crimson. It was evident that something strange had happened to Marion. CHAPTER IV. : AN ANXIOUS QUESTION. “Gee whiz! What a crowd! It’s the big- gest house we've had yet!" whispered Bert, tc the doctor, as he peeped through a hole in the curtain, while the orchestra was playing, just before the evening performance. Dr. Brookes took a peep, and his face grew radiant. “Marion was magnificent at matinee this afternoon, and, of course, as this is our last performance, every one wants to see her,’’ he said, joyfully. “Those two lawyers, Waldo and Wilson, are in a box,” said Mr. Deering, the stage manager, coming up. “I saw them in the lobby, and had a talk with them. They both spoke of our star’s marvelous beauty, and Waldo expressed himself very enthusiastic- ally, it seemed to me. He left a basket of flowers with one of the ushers that. will be passed over the footlights later.” “It’s the only theatre we’ve seen in some time that would allow that,” remarked the doctor, “and how these Denver chaps ha#e taken advantage of it, but, by the way, Mr. Temple, what do you think of those attor- neys? They tell me that Waldo is especially clever.” . The manager was just passing, and was obliged to reply, but he hardly looked at the doctor as he answered his question. He stroked his mustache nervously, as he tried to control his voice. There was a struggle going on in his soul, but he was striving not to show it. _ “He is clever, all right,” he said, finally; “but I like Wilson better. out-spoken, while his partner is smooth and oily. They are as opposite as black and white, in my opinion.” . '“There’s no flaw in the commodore’s will, I hope,” said Bert, quickly. “I’d feel dread- fully if anything should happen that Marion did not get that money.” -“There’s no flaw in the will. The com- He is frank and ° modore was too clever for that,” said Mr. Temple, almost bitterly. “Marion will get her money, every penny of it, Bert, but, of course, it will be some time before every- thing is settled.” “I'd hate to be a lawyer,” said Bert, with a grin. “It can’t be very pleasant to be for- ever settling fortunes for other people, and holding a lot of boodle in trust that don’t belong to you. It must be an awful tempta- tion to monkey with a will or to tuck on a few fees that you are not entitled to. Now, Waldo & Wilson, for instance—they make a specialty of wills, I hear. Of course, they get a big fee, but what is that in comparison to the wealth they handle. [ll bet it makes them envious just to read the figures.” “Well, lawyers haven’t the name of being over honest,” said the doctor, thoughtfully ; “and I did hear that Waldo was a tricky fel- low, but, of course, one hears: that about all successful lawyers. They say he is a wealthy man, but just a bit of a miser.” “Mr. Wilson is free enough,” said Mr. Temple, absently. “He is something of a philanthropist, I am told, by men who know him. I asked a few questions just to cor- tobborate what I had heard of his reputa- tion.” “Has any one seen Marion?” Alma Allyn asked the question softly, as she made her way between two canvas groves and a farmhouse that were just being shifted to their proper positions. “She isn’t in her dressing-room, and neither Miss Ellis nor Mrs. Burnside have seen her! Do, somebody, get out a search warrant for her at once. You know we are to start fifteen minutes earlier to-night, and, perhaps, she has forgotten.” Bert darted off of the stage in one direc- tion, and the doctor and Mr. Deering in another, which left Alma and Mr. Temple standing in the center of the stage together. “IT never saw Marion so nervous as she was to-night,” began Miss Allyn, anxiously. “I suppose it is all on account of getting that money. The poor girl feels dreadfully about the commodore’s death, too. She oon said over and over that she will never re- cover from the shock of it.” eal fectly : H ertecly natura fet sR. hr