Marion Marlowe in Denver, or, The Tragedy of Pike's Peak — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

rane! | MY QUEEF ope A WEEKLY JOURNAL FOR YOUNG WOMEN — | ard he N. Y. Post Office, by STREET & SMITH, 2398 William St., N. Y. al be t Oper year. Entered as Second Class Matter att ‘ feos : 7 Snes nt Act of Congress, in the year 190t in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. No. 26. —_—— NEW YORK, March 23, !go1. Price Five Cents. RN Marion Marlowe in Denver; OR, THE TRAGEDY OF PIKE’S PEAK. By GRACE SHIRLEY. CHAPTER I. — THE NOTICE, “If Miss Marion Marlowe will call at the office of Waldo & Wilson, Attorneys at Law, she will learn something to her advantage.” This announcement in a Denver morning paper attracted the eye of a handsome young man as he sauntered into the barber shop of one of the best hotels in that fine Western city. He re-read the paragraph attentively as he seated himself in a chair, and was so deep in thought that some one entered and spoke to him, twice before he answered. “Well, Ill be jiggered! Where the mischief are you, anyway, doctor? Are you solving a Chinese puzzle or adding up the stock quotations? Dr. Reginald Brookes, the handsome leading man of the Temple Theatrical Company, looked up at last from his paper, the next minute he was pointing out the paragraph to his boyish-looking ES as “Read that, Bert, and tell me*what you think of it,” he said, shortly. Bert Jackson, the youthful comedian of the company, glanced at the notice and then gave a whistle of astonishment. “By Jove, doc! What do you suppose it is? Maybe somebody has died and left her a for- tune.” “Or, perhaps, some one is up to tricks again! I’m mighty suspicious of it, Bert!” was the cautious answer. Bert Jackson put both hands in his pockets and stood beside his friend’s chair. The at- tendants were all busy, so there was time to talk a minute. “I did hope we w vere going to get out of Denver without any tragedies,” he said, gloomily. “T’vye got so I dread them, doc. for they all bring harm to Marion! She is no sooner out of one scrape than she’s into another.” “She has certainly been unfortunate,” was the doctor’s thoughtful answer, though truth CoOnniclbooks (S©)