Marion Marlowe in Denver, or, The Tragedy of Pike's Peak — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

e MY QUEEN, is stranger than fiction. Such a career as Marion Marlowe’s has not had a parallel, as far as I know of, and to think that she is only _ a young girl straight from her father’s farm! Yet she seems a victim of destiny. If it ‘wasn't tor her cleverness and courage, she would have been killed a dozen times over.”’ “More’n that,” said Bert, running over a ew incidents in his mind. “Why, her fife has been in danger in nearly every city that we have played in. She’s been kidnapped, abducted, chucked off a train, sandbagged, black-jacked, shanghaied “Hold on!” cried the doctor, laughing. “It’s not quite so bad as that, but it would have been about the same if she had, for we were nearly crazy about her. Anyway, this is the time when I take a hand in the deal! I’m going to make a call upon Messrs. Waldo & Wilson!. He started from the chair with a look of determination in his dark blue eyes, but Bert’s hand was placed rather heavily upon his shoulder. “Better get your shave now you are here, old man. You'll be able to talk better if your chin ain’t so prickly.” The doctor laughed as he reseated sirpaelt in the chair. “That’s just like me,” he said, jovially. “T forgot my face entirely, I forget every- thing, my boy, when I am thinking of Marion.” “So we do all of us,’’ chirped Bert, as he, too, dropped into a chair. “Why, when I think of her troubles, I imagine [ am not here-on this earth at all! I can feel little red- hot flames creeping all over me, and hang me if I don’t smell brimstone, old fellow! It is hades itself to think of what she has suf- fered! Then, when I picture her pretty face and her glorious voice—well, then things are different, very different, doc! I can see golden harps and no end of halos, and [ al- most feel the wings sprouting out of my shoulders.” : . “Tn other words, her smile is heaven,” murmured the doctor, dreamily. “Well, you are not the only man who has thought so, my dear Alberto.” “No, and I won’t be the last, not by several carloads, I fancy ‘ef Bert. “Such beauty as Marion’s was intended for no one retorted man. She was created to be worshiped by the whole genus homo. It would be a mon- umental catastrophe if Mario should mar- ry “You mean that no one man will ever de- serve her,” went on his friend. “Well, I euess you are right, but all men are selfish. They desire, oftentimes, what they do not de- serve, but I am not so sure that is anything: against them.” “Kindly excuse me from replying! Ill con- : 4 - ic tinue in our next!” blurted Bert, as a skillful — barber began tickling his throat with a razor. There was a quarter hour of silence, and a little later the two sallied ferth and, as soon as they reached their room in the hotel, they both looked again at the paper. “Hello, doc! voice in the corridor. . “Come in, Olcott!” was the answer, as the doctor folded the paper. Orrin Olcott, the “villain” of the company, came in, smoking a cigar. | “Well, if this ain’t a great town,” he be- gan, glibly. “Every man I’ve met since we struck the place has got a lode and “Gee, whiz!” broke in Bert. “Is that what they call it? Now, in New York, we say a ‘jag’ when we speak of that condition, Ol- cott !”’ “Come off! I mean a ‘claim!’ retorted Ol- cott, laughing. “They are all going around with a ton or so of ‘specimens’ in their pock- | ets, and all they talk of is ‘pay streaks’ and ‘chlorides.’ Every blooming one of them is daft over the prospect of getting rich some cay when the mines up in the mountains are a little better developed.” “Well, I’m sure I hope they will,” said the doctor, amiably, “and, in the jargon of the country, I’d like to ‘corral the tailings.’ There’s wealth to burn in the Rockies, Ol- cott !”’ “T hope we pick up a few handfuls, then,” was the laughing answer, came to say is that we start for Colorado Springs in the morning; then it’s only five miles to Manitou, and then—hurrah for — Pike’s Peak and a view of the country!” “Have you seen Mr, Loa | ?” asked oad | growing interested, _ “Yes, and he’s arranged everything all O. comichbooks: cor Are you there?” called a. “but what I really —