Marion Marlowe in St. Paul, or, The Company's Mascot in a Double Deal — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

ee you make ’er,”’ softer. MY QUEEN. her manager. I'll leave no stone unturned to win that wager!” He dropped into a friend’s office after that and wrote a couple of letters, and, be- fore they were finished, “Jackets’’ was once more being interviewed on a lonely corner— this time by his rival, Mr. Daniel Hobart. “Well, ‘Jackets?’ ” The exclamation was answered by a pecul- iar grin from the boy. Then the small, dirty hands dove down into the ragged pockets. “Dat’s de kermedian’s watch, an’ dere’s de star's dimund ring,” he said, indifferently. “Now, gimme er dollar, boss. I wants it fer me mudder.” ~ | Dan Hobart secreted the valuables with a lightning-like gesture, and then handed the child a silver dollar. “How did she take my note?” he Prides after a quick glance around. The boy shrugged his shoulders, and his grin grew wider. “Youse ain’t one, two, tree in de game, see!” he said, glibly. “She ain’t got no use for needer of yer, boss. Yer dough is safe, and so is yer rival's.” “You mean that she won’t dine’ with me to-night?” asked Hobart, in astonishment. “Naw, nor enny odder night—not ’nless was the boy’s cool answer. “I'd do that quick enough, if I knew how,” began the man. Then he turned to “Jackets” and eyed him narrowly, “You are a clever boy, ‘Jackets.’ Give me a pointer?’ he said, softly. “Tell me how to win that bet, and you shall have the fifty.” The boy’s eyes flew open, and his hands went back into his pockets. “Dere’s a gal in de company dey calls Lida Watson. Jest corral her, boss, an’ she’ll do de res’. She’s got it in fer de star an’ de hull kerboodle of dem,”’ he said, elibly. “Thanks, ‘Jackets!’ You're a shrewd one —a true son of your father! If I win this deal, you shall surely have the fifty.’ “See here, boss!” The boy had suddenly straightened up, and his voice had grown “Wot does er pickpocket like youse know erbout my fader?” Dan Hobart caught his breath and stared at the-questioner. There was a look on the 7 tt dirty- face that he had never before seen there. “My fader wus er rich man, an’ er gentle- man—mudder says so,” said the child. “Now, youse come off, Dan Hobart! Don't youse git fresh erbout my fader!” Dan Hobart, the “man about town,” walked away without answering. For some reason or other, he did not care to rile “Jackets.” . “That boy would give me away in a min- ute, I believe. tered, anxiously. Then he, too, dropped into a friend’s office and wrote some letters, one of which was ad- dressed to Miss Lida Watson. That evening, when Miss Watson was in her dressing-room, just before the perform- ance, two letters were handed to her, each accompanied by a bunch of roses. “You just ought to see her! She’s almost beside herself with joy,” whispered Mrs. Burnside to Marion. “Why, the girl im- agines that she is a great artist now, and all because two of the ‘Johnnies’ have noticed her.”’ “T can’t quite uriderstand their beginning so soon,’ said Marion, with a careless glance at some wilted bouquets in the corner of her dressimg-room. “Why, the public of St. Paul has not seen us yet. How is it that they send flowers before the first performance ?” “I can understand why they send them to you—they have seen your picture,” spoke up Miss Allyn. “But why they should favor Miss Watson I can’t understand. She’s pretty, all right, but nobody here knows it.”’ “IT hope her head will not be turned by it,” said Marion, sorrowfully. “Why, Marion! hasn’t she been ixoplciy 4 to turn Bert’s head ever since she came into the company ?” asked Mrs. Burnside, laughing. “That is different! Bert can take care of — himself, and I am afraid she can’t,” said: Marion, quickly. “She.is old enough, and has been on the stage long enough, not to be silly,” spoke up Miss Ellis, sharply. “Of ‘course. vou'll all think I am jealous of her. if I Say anything more, but I do think she deserves all she eet if she persists in flirting.” ke - [’d better be careful,’ he mut» “Well, Bert is safe froaotaey Fr Mreeco ' ays