Frank Merriwell's Fame — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

TIP TOP WEEKLY. Now Lawrence had learned that Merri- well was not the real manager of the com- pany, but had accepted a salary, like the oth- ers, and was to be paid a royalty on the pro- ceeds derived from the performance. And straightway Lawrence lost no time in showing his independence. This was the be- ginning, he told himself. There was more to follow. ‘ It made him “sore” to see Merriwell fill- ing the part of “John Smith,” which was ex- It made him “sore” to be forced to play “second fid- actly suited to Lawrence’s fancy. dle” to this young upstart, who really had no right to act so well with so little knowl- edge of the stage and absolutely without training. Lawrence pictured himself playing “John Smith,” and the picture was so pleasing to his fancy that he felt that the time must come when he would be given an opportunity to step in and show what he could do as the simple, brave and noble young Westerner. At the end of the second act a property tree trunk that spanned a chasm had broken beneath Frank’s feet just as he was carrying Elsie across a chasm, and the two had fallen out of sight in the canvas depths of the chasm. This accident had given Lawrence a momentary start of satisfaction, for he had hoped. that Merriwell would be injured— would have a sprained ankle, broken leg or something of the sort. But Frank had come out of the accident without injury, and had held Elsie so she was not hurt, not a little to Leslie’s disgust. Lawrence had wondered over the breaking of the tree trunk, and, at the first opportunity, he had examined the broken pieces. What he discovered caused him to whistle softly to himself. A little later, while the play was going on, With Hands Buried in His Red Hair, Clif Jerked Him Out of the Window. Lawrence met Lockwell alone behind the scenes, “I say,” he drawled languidly. “Lucky Merriwell wasn’t hurt, eh?” “Lucky!” exploded Lockwell. Then he suddenly changed his manner, saying, “Oh, yes, of course, very lucky!” : “Wonder what made the old thing break,” murmured Lawrence, carelessly. “How do you suppose I know?” asked Lockwell, swiftly. “Don’t you know?” asked the inquisitive actor, pointedly. “Of course not. Suppose it was not strong enough to bear the strain. What are you driving at?” “It was strong enough at rehearsals.” “What are you driving at?” Lockwell was nervous, and Lawrence saw it. “Oh, nothing,” he softly said. “Only, if I were in your place, I’d take care that Mer- riwell does not get to examine that break.” Lockwell started back, and then he stepped forward and his hand shot out, falling on Lawrence’s shoulder. “See here,’ he hoarsely exclaimed, “what are you insinuating?” “Not a thing, my dear fellow,” was the answer: “It is plain to me that there are others besides myself who are not stuck on Frank Merriwell.” “Stuck.on him! Why, I de 4 Lockwell stopped short. - , “Go on,” urged Lawrence, quietly. “Oh, I don’t know anything about you!” exclaimed Lockwell. “I won’t talk to you.” ‘Then I will talk to you,” said Lawrence, with sudden decisiveness. ‘I know all about it, and you cannot be any more sorry than I am that’Frank Merriwell did not break his leg in falling. That chap may be all right, but he’s getting too high in the air to. suit See No. 30 of True Blue. _——— michboo!