Marion Marlowe in St. Paul, or, The Company's Mascot in a Double Deal — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

I “You are so good and kind,” whispered the poor girl, sadly. “Why, Miss Marlowe, [ am only twenty-four, yet look at my face! It is as thin and hollow as any old woman’s!”’ “A little happiness, a little freedom from fear, will bring your beauty back,” was Mar- ion’s answer; Ida, so do not lose courage.” , Ida Inez, as she called herself, clenched her thin fingers together. There was a struggle ‘going op in her breast that was fast over- whelming her. She had written to this girl to awaken her interest, to meet her face to face, if possible, so that she might aid in her biting. But now that she knew her, the task was impossible. Even with the thought of her child’s danger to goad her on, she could not bring herself to perform the treach- -erous deed which Dan Hobart had exacted of her. Alma Allyn came into the dressing-room _ just then, so the conversation ended, but poor Ida’s every look showed the turbulence of her emotions. ; What would be the outcome of her daring act? As she read her lines during the rehearsal, the question had stared her in the — face. Now, as she lingered in the dressing-room, the horror of it haunted her. Marion and her friend went out and left her for a moment and, suddenly, like one awakening from sleep, she shook off her in- decision. . - Standing before Marion’s picture, sic raised her right hand to heaven, while her lips moved silently. Come what weuld, she would stoop to no such perfidy as this! No innocent girl should be wronged by her --aid; no, nor led into temptation, if she could prevent it! After that she was calm outwardly, but there was still a chill at her heart. As they were parting at the stage door, she whis- _ pered her fears to Marion. “Please, Miss Marlowe, tell them all to _ tall me Ida Inez,” she said, eagerly. “You See, if he finds me, he will force me to go back to the mill. He does not intend that I shall = ever escape him!” She could look the beautiful girl squarely - MY QUEEN. ‘and you are very pretty now,. 21 in the eyes now, for she had freed herself of her guilty conscience. — “And your boy? Has he power over bim?” asked Marion, quickly. -The woman shook her head. “It is only me that he owns, soul and body,” she said, withfa blush of shame; “but if I can find my boy, | will tie him hand and foot, if necessary, and take him away from St. Paul by force, so that he will be safe from that monster—the man whose evil nature has been reproduced in my poor little baby !” Marion’s heart grew sick at the fearful statement, and the words haunted her for hours, they were so cruelly truthful. As they were walking to the hotel, she re- peated the conversation to Miss Allyn; she needed her friend’s advice in her new de- termination. “We must help her to escape him,” said, in conclusion. ‘Now, if we could only find ‘Jackets,’ but he has hidden himself, she says. He knew of Bert’s visit to his mother, and I suppose he thinks we are after him.” “And so we are, but only for his good,” said Miss Allyn, laughing. “We are_ his friends, not his enemies, if he only knew it.” she “Oh, Alma!” cried Marion, suddenly. “li we could only bring him to justice! The man, I mean, who wrecked Ida’s life! Why, ii he is rich, he should educate and support his child! If he is respected, he should be cxposed! If he is guilty, he should be pun- ished! The poor girl says she is in danger oi her life! The day she mentions his name he has threatened to kill her!” _ Miss Allyn gasped! It seemed too horri- ble to be true. She was about’ to reply, when a piercing scream startled them. “It’s ‘Jackets’! Come quick!’ cried Mar- ion, as she darted down the street. Miss Allyn raced after her and, in a min- ute, they.turned a corner. “Jackets” was there, wriggling like an-eel, in the hands of a big policeman, while a dozen men and women were looking on gleefully. “That’s the kid! Take him in, officer!” said a businesslike-looking man, who was searching through his pockets. “I felt his hand slip into my pocket as slick as any- thing! Why, any other day in the week he might have pinched a thousend dollars !. Ona