Marion Marlowe in Chicago, or, Trapped by a Lunatic — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

‘jon went over to her and endeavored to make her more comfortable. ee “We wouldn’t have done it if you hadn't been so wicked,” she said, sternly; “but we'll send some one to you, Just as soon as we are safe. It will probably be a policeman, but I guess that by that time you'll be glad to see him.” “She will, indeed,” said Mr. Temple, smil- ing; then he opened the door again and took another glance into the alley. Bee “Quick! Marion, look! Something is hap- pening!” he cried, softly. “I just saw a dozen forms scoot by, and there’s an awful racket in that groggery! Oh, if it is only a raid, we will be safe in a minute!” _ Marion sprang to the door and listened in- tently. | > “Tt does sound as if something was going ou,” she said, cautiously; “but perhaps it is only the customary noise of the alley. You and I are hardly fit to judge, I fancy!” Before Mr. Temple could reply there was another rush of feet down the alley; then the unmistakable sound of a night-stick being rapped against something awoke instanta- eous feelings of joy in the hearts of the two prisoners. + “Tt is the police,’ began Marion, when a ringing voice in the alley interrupted her. “There he is, officer! There’s the bow- legged negro! Quick! He’s down in the mud! Turn the barrel over him!” _ Marion waited for no more! It was Bert Jackson’s voice. She darted out into the mud -and darkness of the alley. _-“Bert! Oh, Bert!” Her voice rang out like a trumpet. “Here we are, Bert! down here! found Mr. Temple!’ | _ There was an instant of silence; then a great shout followed, and a perfect army of burly bluecoats came tearing down the alley. _ As Bert reached Marion’s side he caught her up in his arms, and, for a moment, she was in danger of being devoured bodily. Then the young man set her down gently and fairly hugged his manager. For once m his life, Bert was far beyond talking. Explanations followed, and the march to liberty was begun. Under-such able protec- tion they were soon out of danger. At Dominick’s groggery one of the police- men telephoned to the station-house, and an hour later Marion and her manager were sit- ting in the sergeant’s office, telling him as calmly as they could, the details of their ex- periences. _ Bert took charge of the telephone and soon had the rest of the company notified. . _ Not only the star had been found, but the manager also. bi " I have MY QUEEN. 25 “And, oh, Alma!” cried Marion, when she fell into her friend's arms a little later, “to think that the guilty should have been cap- tured, too! It is perfectly wonderful, as well as perfectly awful!” oe “A rattling good night’s work, I call it! was Bert’s comment, as he watched her eager- ly. “We got the drunken driver, as well as Bill Jones and Preston! Oh, there’s no place on earth that can beat Chicago!” . “I guess you are right, young man,” spoke up the chief of police, who was present at the reunion. ‘We have the worst people and the best ones in this little village. It’s a big con- tract to please them all. You can gamble on that! But we do our best to keep law and order.” “T fancy a man without a cent in his clothes and no jewelry would be comparatively sate, even in Dago alley,” said Dr. Brookes, grim- ly; “but show those rascally natives a ninety- eight-cent watch and they’d fall over each other to commit a murder.” They were all grouped around Marion in the hotel parlor, and, at the chief’s request, she told them of the raffle. Bert’s eyes snapped fire as she described the scene, and neither Alma Allyn nor the doctor could quite restrain their feelings. “In the hands of a lunatic! That is where you were, you poor dear!” cried Miss Allyn, tearfully. “IT was in the hands of a score or more at that time, if I am any judge,” said Marion, sadly; “but Percy Preston was mad—thor- oughly so. I was glad when Bert told me he was in the hospital.” “Percy Preston is dead,” said the hotel clerk, coming in. “Here’s a telegram for you, doctor, that I accidentally opened.” There was a general sigh of relief; he was safe at last. Dr. Brookes hastened to the office to notify the authorities at the Matteawan asylum. “I guess I must lie down for a while now,” said Marion, sweetly. ‘‘What time this after- noon do we rehearse, Mr. Temple?” There was a smile of admiration upon the manager's face as he replied: “T think, Marion, our audience will be glad to see us just as we are to-night,” he said, happily. ““Miss Allyn has written up the whole affair, and I have sent it to the papers, so you have nothing to do but rest until even- ing. “And to-night I shall outdo myself!” cried Marion, gayly; “for I am just overflowing With joy over the safe return of my man- ager!” “Always thinking of others,” murmured Mr. Temple, as she left the room; then he GOMIGIOOKSEEO