Marion Marlowe in Buffalo, or, Betrayed by a Rival Company — page 5: what you’re looking at

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z MY QUEEN. they've offered her more dough, and, you know, no actress can refuse a raise of salary.” “Bosh! You don’t know what you are talking about, Jones!” said Bert, turning his hack on him; then he said quietly to the manager: “What shall you do about it, Mr. Temple?” The manager still looked worried, but he tried to speak cheerfully. “See Miss Marlowe first, of course, and be sure that there is no truth in it, and then Ill get out an injunction to stop them from using her name. Ten to one they have had the nerve to borrow it without asking permis- sion.” He glanced at his watch and then turned to leave the station. The Temple Theatrical Company had been on the road now three days, playing one night stands until they reached Buffalo. Now they were booked for three nights at the Al- hambra, the best theatre in the city, and this sudden announcement that their star was about to leave them could not but produce a little consternation. Mr. Temple had already sent the lady members of the company to a good hotel, and, now that the baggage had been attended to, he was ready to follow. Before they had fairly left the station Bert Jackson touched his arm. “Look at that!’ he exclaimed, indignantly, pointing to an enormous poster. “If they haven't had the audacity to bill the town! Gee whiz! This beats me! I can’t under- stand it!” “Mr. Temple bit his lips as he read the post- er. It was another announcement that Mar- ion Marlowe would positively appear at the Palace Theatre. “Who are Rippel and Rose, and what kind of a show have they?” asked Bert, when he had somewhat recovered from the shock of the sight of the poster. “A lot of barn-stormers!’’ was the disgust- ed reply. “They have a reputation in the West for all sorts of trickery. They steal their plays, and it begins to look as if they steal their players. It’s their first trip East, [ fancy, and, of course, they are stopping at [ suppose it’s Miss Marlowe's re- Why, nothing. eont adventure that has caught them. since the poor girl was thrown from that train last Monday night, the public has posi- tively been clamoring to see her!” “Well, why don’t they pitch one of their own actresses off, if they want an ‘ad?’” right to try and make capital of our misfor- tunes. I call them a lot of impudent ras- cals !”’ “T’ll see a lawyer at once,” said Mr. Tem- ple, quickly. “As you say, Bert, there’s no question about Miss Marlowe’s integrity. I am only wasting time by waiting to see her.” “Hold on, Mr. Temple! I’m not so sure of that!” said Jones, who was still behind them. “I saw Rose talking with Miss Mar- lowe not fifteen minutes ago. He was wait- ing in the lobby of the Imperial, when she and Miss Allyn got there. In my opinion, that looks mighty suspicious. I’d see her first, if I were you. Why, the man wouldn’t dare use her name without her permission!” Bert Jackson wheeled around suddenly and confronted the fellow. “See here, Jones! You are an honest liar or I would settle you! You mean all right, but you are off your trolley! What you don’t know about Miss Marlowe would fill a whole library. You’d better let up insinuat- ing that she is treacherous, or I'll polish off the sidewalk with you!” “IT only told what I saw,” muttered Jones, a little stupidly. “Well, you're bugle-eyed,” retorted Bert. “You ought to wear glasses!' If Miss Mar- lowe spoke to Rose at all, it was to refuse his offer. I'm not a betting man, but I'll gamble my last dollar that I'm right on that subject!” “Have it your own way; I’m done!” re- torted Jones, walking off. “I told what I saw and what I believe. It remains to be seen whether I am ‘bugle-eyed’ or not. As like as not, Jackson, you'll find something wrong with your own vision when you get to the theatre this evening.” “T don’t understand how Rose came to speak to her, at all,” said Mr. Temple, after the “supe” had gone; “it certainly looks as if he was trying to secure her services, and if she should leave us, it would be dreadful, Bert! There’s only one Marion Marlowe! [ should hate to lose her!" Gomicbooks;com