Marion Marlowe in St. Paul, or, The Company's Mascot in a Double Deal — page 5: what you’re looking at

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MY QUEEN. : 3 * companion’s face, stealthily. “I heard was a good girl, but a trifle simple-minded. Well, it is safe to say that the kid inherited nothing from his mother.” she “T’ve got to leave you here. I want to look at the ticker,’ spoke up Tupham, as he glanced up at the sign over a broker’s office. “We'll meet Thursday at the Hotel Ray- mond, and the winner can claim his stakes,” was the laughing reply. “I'll have ‘Jackets’ there at about three-thirty. Meanwhile, [ wish you success with the beautiful actress!" “The best man wins. Let it go at that,” was the reply. ‘Fair means or foul, every- thing goes, Dan! I’m not losing either the actress or the fifty, if 1 can help it.” “Neither am I,” was the answer; and then the two parted. “There is honor among thieves, they tell me,” muttered Hobart, as he strolled down the street. ‘Well, I’ll be as honest with you as you are with me, Archibald Tupham! [ll say nothing of your private business, as long as you keep mum about mine; but when it comes to this actress affair, why, it is entirely different. You'll trick me, my friend, or Pll trick you! There’s no honor in a game where the stakes are a woman! Thinks I don't know the rest of that romance,” he added, erimly. “Well, if there’s anything about ‘Jackets’ that I don’t know, I'll eat my hat! So his mother is dead, is she! Well, that is a sunprising bit of information! Now, I was under the impression that she was very much alive; but, then, any one, even Dan Hobart, is liable to be mistaken!” He chuckled to himself as he turned a cor- ner, then stopped short, put on his eye glasses again, and stared a minute. Another picture of Marion Marlowe right in front of him. “By Jove! she is magnificent, and no mis- take!” he muttered, admiringly. “I'll win a kiss from those lips, or know the reason why! Why, if Tupham was here now, I’d raise that bet to five hundred dollars! It’s worth it, every cent of it; but pshaw! what am [ thinking of? The girl is only an ac- A bouquet, a supper and a bottle of wine! As if I didn’t know the Way to do it!” tress ! was . CHAPTER II. THE MASCOT. “What’s the matter with St. Paul!” “Dere’s nuttin’ de matter wid St. Wot’s de matter wid youse?’” The answer came so promptly that it was almost startling. Bert Jackson, comedian of the Temple Theatrical Company, stuck his head farther out of the window of the hotel stage, which was standing at the railroad depot, and, by stretching his neck considerably, he managed to catch sight of the youngster who had re- plied to his greeting. “Well, Vl be jrzgered'! If it ain’t a real Live cowboy, minus the ‘pop’ and sombrero! Come here, kiddy, and let us have a look at vou!” he called out, jovially. “Not on yer tintype! Got sumthin’ else ter do ’sides gas wid er fake actor!” respond- ed the youngster. “A fake, am I? Well, I like that, young man! Why, I’m the only thing that ever happened in the histrionic line! Come over here, you young Westerner, and take a lock at me! Bring along a morning paper while you are about it!’ was Bert’s delighted an- swer. . “Dat’s different!’ said the boy,-as he se- lected a paper from the bundle under his arm. “Dis kid ain't got no objections ter trans- actin’ biz, but when it comes ter conversa- tion, he ain’t in it—see!”’ “In other words, you are only out for the stuff!’ said Bert, as he reached down a nickel. “Well, you are a fair sample of what we New Yorkers know as a hustling West- erner; but why don’t you take a day off, sonny, and grow up with the country? You look like the twin brother of a prairie dog, or one of those cunning little beasts known as gophers !”’ “And youse looks like ‘er bloomin’ jay!’ was the grinning retort. ‘Gimme me a show, vouse, an I'll grow up quick ernuff. I ain’t got no time ter do nothin’ now ‘cept sell pa- pers.” ; “Cduldn’t you manage to take an evening off and go to the theatre?” asked Bert, so- berly, as he winked at the other members of the company, who were peering through the Paul! ~ COMmiIcooOoks.€©