Marion Marlowe in St. Paul, or, The Company's Mascot in a Double Deal — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

8 _ MY, QUEEN. asleep a little bit: but, I tell you what I’m going to do: I’m going to keep faum for a while. When I find I can’t catch the thief myself, Pll report it to the police. Now, don’t . ask me any questions, please, for I don’t want to answer! If you knew how mean I felt pons spare my feelings!’ ae will not so much as whisper it to you again,” said Mr. Temple, laughing; but whenever you need us, Bert, just let us know. We'll run down anything in town on a min- ute’s notice.” “All ready for rehearsal!’ called Mr. Deer- ing, and the members of the company who were in the dressing-rooms came trooping to the scene-room. “Bert Jackson is down in the dumps! Have you gone back on him, Ellis?” called out Miss Watson, the soubrette, with a little spite in ber accents. Miss Ellis tilted her nose in the air in a disgusted manner. “Don’t you wish I had?” she answered, loftily. “You’ve been angling. for him ever since you joined the’ company !” : “Nothing of the sort! He isn’t my style at all,” was the slightly embarrassed answer. “T should say he wasn’t,” chirped Miss EI- lis, indignantly. “Why, if he was your style, Watson, he couldn’t stay in the company! Mr. Temple doesn’t engage freaks or curios as comedians !” “Well, I never!” ejaculated Miss Watson, as the ingénue vanished in the wings. “She’s too shatp for you, Lida,” laughed Bob Hinton, as he passed her. “It don’t ever do to try and twit a girl of her lover. You ought to know that without my telling you!” “But he ain’t her lover,” snapped Miss Watson, who was almost ready to cry. “Tm not so sure,” was the low answer, as Ilinton moved a little nearer; “but never mind if he is, Lida; you can have one when vou want one. I ain’t such a bad fellow, if IT haven’t any money.” He slipped his arm around her waist and was just about to kiss her, when something coft and wet hit him squarely in the fore- head. “Break away, dere, baby !” piped a childish voice, and a boy’s head popped up suddenly from behind a pile of scenery. “Great jumping Jerusalem! It’s the news- boy!" said Hinton, savagely. “How the deuce did you get in, and what do you want here, sonny ?” The boy scrambled over the rubbish and made a profound bow, at the same time hand- ing out a dirty playing card with an ace of spades on it. “Me name is Jackets, an’ here’s me card,” né squeaked, merrily. “Now, git er move on yer, cully, an’ persent it ter der loidy! I’ve come On er invite, a’n I’m in er jewillikins of }? er hurry! CHAPTER \V. THE BRIBES OF VILLAINS. “Don’t let that kid go until I get back!” Bert whispered the words in Marion’s ear | as Jackets was balancing himself on the end of a trunk in the star’s dressing-room after the rehearsal. r<8 Marion nodded her head. She did not understand the order, but she was quite willing to trust to Bert’s judgment and dis- cretion. “Now, ‘Jackets’, ” she said, ‘merrily, “you are to be my mascot! I wish you to come to the theatre every afternoon and evening, but you mustn’t expect to see the show except from the wings after this evening. You are to stay behind the scenes with me and bring me good luck. You understand the nature of your new vocation, don’t you?” “Bet yer-life!’ was the prompt answer, as the youngster finally managed to maintain his equilibrium. ‘“V’se am jes like de goat an’ de dogs dat de sojer boys had w’en dey wuz in Cuby,” he said, soberly. ‘I’m ter chase de hoodoos ter kingdom come, an’ ware de golden wand wats ter bring in de shekels. Oh, I kin do de mascot ack all right. De question is, w’en do I sell me poips ?”’ | “There's a business head for you,” laughed Miss Allyn, who was listening. “The gen- tleman wants to know what you are going to pay him, Marion.” “Oh, but mascots are never paid! That would break the charm!” cried Marion, with a sly wink at Miss Alyn. Ebooks.com J cei aa tt i i a ie ll ee