Marion Marlowe in St. Paul, or, The Company's Mascot in a Double Deal — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

you!” cried Bert, promptly. “I'll sally forth with a lasso and corral one this very day and iy bring him around to the theatre in time for the rehearsal!” __ Marion’s great gray eyes turned upon him with a little twinkle of amusement in their depths. | “TT doubt if you could catch my mascot that way,” she said, smilingly: “for; oh, Bert! I want that newsboy—the tiny little fellow! I have taken a great fancy to him for some rea- son or other.” q They were in front of their hotel as she finished speaking, and Bert gave a peculiar . whistle before he answered. _ “If you had asked me to bring you an Indian or a bucking bronco or a desperado > some sort, it would have been dead easy,” i he said, with a shake of his head; “but, be- _ tween you and me, Marion, that kid looked _ cHppery. However, I’ll do my best, if you really want him!” CHAPTER ITI. BERT’S LOSS. . The company was hardly quartered in the hotel before Bert started on his errand. He _ would have scoured the length and bteadth _ ofthe city to please his old friend Marion. Miss Ellis, the ingénwe, was also very dear - to him, but as yet Bert had not quite decided _ which was dearest; but, as he was anything but a love-sick youth, the question did not bother him. » “Hello! There he is!” he whispered, as he suddenly caught sight of the little newsboy only about two blocks from the hotel. “Now, I wonder who that swell mug is who is talk- ine with him! Looks as if he might be the Mayor of St. Paul, or the Governor of Min- nesota.”’ He waited a minute until a well-dressed man of middle age had completed his busi- ness with the boy, and then called out to the little chap to bring him a paper. “Hello, youse!’’ was the boy’s greeting, as he darted across the street. “Wot pap der yer want dis time—de Pierneer or de Sun , Kise ” “Oh, either will do—I’m not particular, hustler! I’m just buying the paper to get a ied you,’ MY QUIN. & word with you, see? You know you told me you hadn’t time to talk with fake actors es “Oh, I reck’n yer ain’t no fake!” said the boy, looking up at him admiringly. “I reck’n yer de right sort, since yer gimme ther pasteboard! Are yer dead sure it’s on de square?” he asked, suddenly, as he jerked it from his pocket and eyed it suspiciously. “Sure! It’s for the first row in the or- chestra, too,” said Bert, laughing. The boy nearly. dropped his papers in as- tonishment at this news. “Naw! Is dat so? - Me in de first row, wid de bald-headed ol’ duffers! Great I[n- juns! won’t I have fun with de bil-yard balls! I'll jes take er lot er paper erlong an’ plug spit balls at ’em! It'll be er circus! Sorry yer won't be wid me ter see it!” The boy was fairly dancing about on the sidewalk,: he was so overjoyed, but Bert began to tremble for what was coming. “But: you mustn’t disturb the show,” he began, with great solemnity. “Why, if we give you the ticket, it wouldn't be fair for you to queer us! For heaven’s sake, save your spitballs until after the performance!” “T’ll trow ‘em between de acks,” retorted the small boy, complacently. “Den dere won’t be no queerin’ de play fer youse an’ de loidy !” “Ahem! That is what I wanted to say to ’ said Bert, quickly. “I have a message for you, hustler, from Miss Marion Mar- lowe, the beautiful lady that you saw looking out of the stage window this morning.” “Whoop! Gee whiz! Wot yer givin’ us, yer bloke? Tink I’m such er lobster I don’t know yer is’ er kiddin’?” cried the clever youngster. “But I’m not kidding! This is dead straight,” said Bert, very soberly. “Miss Marlowe said, when she saw you this morn- ing, that she could see histrionic talent stick- ing out all over you, and she wants to offer you a position in her company.” The boy looked himself over critically as Bert was talking, and at this surprising offer he “dropped his bundle of papers and did a Sebaziot back somersault on the pavements. Good! That’s out of sight! So you'’xe really got a specialty!’ cried Bert. delioht- Pe eS edly. “Well, that is a Pears satel vere Lgese¢2(6)