Marion Marlowe's Christmas Eve, or, The Treachery of a Factory Inspector — page 26: what you’re looking at

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24 If you can get her down into the workshop the men will help you.” “Or you'll make it hot for them: ain’t that so, sis?’ laughed the fellow. ‘Well, I'll tell them they must help or you'll ruin their busi- ness by reporting the state of their building to the Board of Health or taking off all their girls under fourteen to-morrow !” “That will do it,’ said the woman, with a malicious sneer. “They’d kill her for you if you threatened all that! They dread a plumber’s bill far worse than they do mur- der’ “Tl fix her—and them!” said her brother, darting away. ‘The prettiest girl that I ever saw. It’s worth taking some risks to have the fun of taming her!”’ Miss French left the building quickly and hurried away, little dreaming that a pair of sharp eyes were following her. For Tom, the office boy, had suddenly changed his mind about accompanying the doctor. As soon as he saw Miss French in the doorway he determined to track her, for he felt almost sure that she would go to meet Marion. | If any one had asked him why he thought so, he would not have been able to tell them; but he followed his first instinct, which was to shadow the woman. Through one street after another the boy kept closely in her wake, and was thoroughly astounded when she finally led him into a really fine neighbor- hood. ‘“Hully Gee! but she’s swell!’ he muttered to himself. ‘twenty-five per don’t pay fer all dat. W’y, dat house is er corker, but den she may have a hall bedroom.” Then the boy began racking his brains a little, and as Miss French let herself into the handsome mansion with a latchkey, he waited just long enough for her to reach her room, then went up promptly and pulled the door- bell. “T’ve er message fer Miss French,” he said, politely, to the maid who opened the door. “She just come in, but [ couldn't ketch her. I'll go right up if you'll jest say which her room is,” “Second floor front,” said the maid, good- naturedly. Without losing a second, might change her mind, Tom bolted up the stairs and rapped on Miss French's door. for fear she The next moment he was confronted by Miss french herself, looking very much at home in a handsomely-furnished apartment, MY QUEEN. CHAPTER-XII. THE SCENE ON THE ROOF. he shrieks of a score or more factory whistles awakened Marion Marlowe, for, for- tunately for her, she had drifted from the realms of unconsciousness into dreamless slumber. i As she sat up and looked around, the hor- | ror of her situation dawned suddenly upon her. It was six o’clock, and the sweat-shops were Closing. The banging of iron shutters on every side told that another day of toil had ended. It was now Christmas Eve. Marion sprang to her feet with a fresh terror in her eyes. She had suddenly ob- served that. all the skylights were being closed, and that she was fast being shut out from all prospect of assistance. * In a very few minutes she would be alone and doomed to spend the night on the cold roof of this building. ti Below on the street all was joy and hi- larity in anticipation of the holiday the next day, for Christmas is widely, though not uni- versally, observed on the East Side. At last a black head apeared above a dis- tant skylight, and Marion darted forward, fairly shrieking for assistance. There was a minute’s hesitation, then the head appeared above the opening; then it was suddenly withdrawn, only to give place to another. This time Marion fairly gasped with a new sensation, tor the man who was coming to- ward her was no other than Jim French, the bully who had insulted her on the street the previous evening. “T am lost! lost!’ she whispered, as her lips turned white with terror. “Oh! what a wicked woman that inspector is; for it must be her doings. She has sent him to me.” As the fellow approached her, Marion felt her nerves grow tense. She would defend herself tooth and nail, if need be; but, oh, the pity and the horror of what was coming!” With a leer on his cruel face, Jim French came towards her, first kicking the skylight carelessly over the opening, as if to prevent intrusion: “TTello, Birdie! So here you are!” he called out, tauntingly. ‘Well, I must say they've put you in a pretty coop! Glad to see me, ain't you? Come, own up, pretty!” Marion clinched her hands and set her teeth firmly. “If you have come to help me escape from this awful place, I am certainly very glad to see you, Mr. French,” she said, sternly; “but if vou have come to insult me, that is another thing, and I have no way of knowing which is your intention.” —— — or~. Eomicbooks.co * *