Marion Marlowe on the Prairie, or, A Thrilling Ride Across Kansas — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

"eh Fe = * “ae as oN called Bert, at that minute. MY QUEKN. “T’ve watched, too,’’ was the reply; “but I guess it is just as you say. They are swal- lowed up by the rolling prairies and en- veloped in silence.” “We'll be a little nearer them at Topeka— that is one thing,” remarked Miss Ellis ; “‘and that is about the only thing that is cheering my drooping spirits. I am positively yearn- ing for a glimpse of a genuine ‘broncho- 799? buster “Well, here’s a pretty fair sample of one,” The girls had been standing in the scene-room, and all turned quickly as he spoke. “Tust take a look at this specimen! He is genuine, [ reckon!’ he went on, excitedly. “Now, how the deuce did you get in here, mister? Did you tomahawk the doorkeeper or lasso the manager? ‘You look as if you might do almost anything that you undertook tc do!” The individual addressed grinned good- naturedly at his question. He was a young man, not over twenty-five, very tall and mus- cular and dressed in the regulation costume He had on buckskin leggings and trousers and a red flannel shirt, while his belt looked like an arsenal, it was stuck so full of pistols. of the cowboys in the Rockies. “He wants to see the manager,” explained the doorkeeper, who was close behind him. “Now, you wouldn’t expect me to try and Stop an infernal machine like that, would you, Mr. Jackson? Why, he’d have plugged me full of holes if I had ever refused him.” “Not ther least danger, boss! « This. hyar belt is as empty as er prairie grave!” drawled the new-comer, pleasantly. “Ther shootin’ irons is all thar, but ther ain’t no stuff ter load with. Ef I toted both, I’d be corralled by ther authorities.” “Well, they’d have my blessing when they undertook the job,” laughed Bert. “I'd tackle a buffalo bull or a cinnamon bear, but 11 excuse me from being on earth when you get to work with those weapons,”’ “I reckon [ kin shoot purty straight,’’ said the stranger, grinning, and just at that min- ute Mr. Temple came up to him. “Did you wish to speak to me?” began the manager, politely. The fellow pulled off his sombrero and made an awkward bow. “I reckon I do,” he said, with another grin. “I reckon I want a job with you, boss. I’m just hankerin’ for ther chance ter be a play-actor.” Every one held their breath for a second: then some one gave a tug at Marion’s dress. She looked down just as Jackets whispered shrilly in her ear: ‘“Dat’s him, Miss Marler! dude wot gimme de nickel! Wot do youse tink er him? Ain’t he de limit 2” Dat’s de Injun CHAPTER VI. A SUSPICION. Marion could not wait to hear Mr. Tem- ple’s decision, for she had to hurry to her dressing-room, so as not to delay the rising of the curtain. When the performance was Over, and she and Alma were busily packing their theat- rical trunks in the dressing-room, Bert gave a loud rap on their door, and then fairly roared with laughter. “What do you think? Mr. Temple has en- gaged him!’ he cried, as Alma sprang to open the door for him. “He's got a mag- nificent voice, and can do stunts galore. He’s going to use him in the rescue scene in the new play. He’s so much bigger than the other ‘supes’ that he’ll show off to good ad- vantage, and, besides, he can drag Marion from her Watery grave and toss her ashore just as though she was a feather. He’s as strong as a buffalo, and he is really very tame ! You just ought to see im mel (C0)(O)(O) EReO he talks of Marion.” GO