Marion Marlowe in Cleveland, or, The Mystery of the Red Rose — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

bk aa _. broke in Dick Hinton, with a laugh. MY QUEEN. 9 snapped ominously as she saw her fairly beaming on Bert Jackson. CHAPTER IV. A MYSTERIOUS PARCEL. Long before the curtain rose on the even- ing performance, every attaché of the thea- tre had been posted in regard to the “masher,” who was to make his appearance with a red rose in his button-hole. Every person who had seen the mysterious fellow with the pass during the afternoon was warned to look out for him again that even- ing. . With these precautions, both Marion and If the “crank’’ appeared, he would be watched as carefully Mr. Temple were satisfied. as possible. “They seem to be having hot times in the city nowadays,” Bert remarked to Mr. Tem- ple, as the manager met him behind the scenes just before the orchestra started. “They are having street-car strikes galore, and half the lines are tied up. I was two hours and a half getting out to Garfield's menument !” “And I took chances with my life trying to call on some acquaintances out on Wood- ae got on a car that I was mighty glad to leave, and I hear that it was blown off the track not ten minutes after I left it!” lawn avenue,” chimed in Mrs. Burnside. “Well, I went out to the work-house,” Et ive cot any friends in town, I knew I'd find ‘em out there; and, say, there wasn’t a spare berth for a fellow, for so much as a night! They are taking in culprits at the rate of iorty a minute!” “Come off, Hinton! Don’t stretch it; the truth is bad enough,” laughed Bert. “The town is chock full of fire-eaters, or anarch- ists, or something!* They can’t tell me these riots are made by honest laborers!” ~~ a “Well, I hope they do their rioting at the extreme ends of the city while we are here,’ said Mr. Temple. “I don’t want to lose a penny of our three days’ business ! We have done all right, so far, and I hope to keep up the record.” “And we've been up against snags ever since we started, too,” said Bert, soberly. “First, Marion got thrown from a train, and barely escaped with her life. Then we near- ly lost her at Niagara through the rascality of our rivals! Yes; I hope nothing happens to upset us here! I'll succumb to nervous prostration if we strike many more such ad- ventures !”’ “Well, so far, we seem threatened by noth- ing worse than an anonymous letter,” said Mr. Temple, smiling; “and if this car strike doesn’t extend to the Euclid avenue lines, I euess we'll leave Cleveland better off than we reached it.”’ “Oh, Mifter Temple!" called out a child's voice at that moment, and little Ruby came running across the scene-room toward the manager. “Mifter Temple, mamma wants you! Please come quick!” lisped the child, as she ran straight into his arms and was lifted to bis shoulder. “What’s the matter with mamma?” asked the manager, starting off promptly. He was walking straight toward the dress- ing-rooms, but the little one stopped him. ‘“She’s down at the stage door,” she said, trying to turn the manager about by pulling on his mustache; “and there’s a big man wif her, wot she’s awful ‘fraid of! She whispered to me to wun and get Mifter Temple.” The manager scowled as he hurried to the stage door. There was something in the child’s news that made him a little nervous. When he reached the door, he found Mrs. Burnside confronting an ugly-looking fellow. He was big and black, with coarse, vulgar features. . ECOmiclookxs.com