Marion Marlowe in St. Paul, or, The Company's Mascot in a Double Deal — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. rage; then the old cunning trept back into his eyes, and he hurried back to the club in search of Tupham. He had something to tell him that would not stand delay. It was that Lottie Evans, ihe newsboy’s mother, had thrown off her shackles. Like a flash, it came to him exactly what had happened. ' The girl had been won over by Marion Marlowe's beauty, and, no doubt, the actress liad taken a fancy to her, as she did to “Jack- ets,” and, perhaps, even installed her in some position in the company. ) It was only a guess, but it was a plausible one, for Dan Hobart was an adept at reading human nature. - Just once he hesitated. If he could only get hold of “Jackets!” As he had said to Tupham, the child was his most loyal sub- ject. He stopped at the clubhouse door and re: volved the matter in his mind; then a gleam of satisfaction shone in his face—a scheme lad sprung into his brain that was well worth trying. He had about played out his game in that particular city, and the police were growing sufficiently suspicious to make him feel de- _ cidedly uneasy. He had been considering Tupham for some little time, and, now that Tupham seemed about to defeat. him in his wager over the actress, the last vestige of that “honor among thieves,” which he advocated, disap- peared completely. Here was his chance to get square with a vengeance. He would be a fool, indeed, if he did not take it! : He went into the café and found Tupham seated at one of the tables, and, as he dropped into a chair, he remarked, very coolly: _ “By the way, Tupham, that romance of the newsboy’s mother came back to my mind Jast night. J happened to meet her on the street—you know—the girl who died in the slums of Minneapolis.” Archibald Tupham sprang from his chair and then sank back again, while his coarse face turned to a livid purple. “You met her, the mother of ‘Jackets!’ How do you know?” he tried to say, calmly. Hobart lit a cigar and answered without a sign of hesitation. “As if a man could doubt a woman’s word, €specially when she is merely claiming the cwnership of a child and the identity of that child’s father,” he said, indifferently. _ . ‘Did she tell you that?’ questioned Tup- _ ham, hoarsely. x. Hobart puffed his cigar to see that it was 23 smoking properly, then removed it from his lips with a flourish, as he answered: “She told me she was Lottie Evans, and I knew the rest,” he said, tantalizingly. “I con- gratulate you on your old sweetheart, Tup- ham. She must have been very pretty!” With a cry of rage, Archibald Tupham rose to his feet. He did not make any reply, but walked straight from the clubhouse. “Now, the rest is easy,’ whispered Ho- bart, between his puffs. “My game is to ex- pose Tupham and ruin his reputation. He ay compromise and he may not; Ill have to take chances. It’s more likely he’ll abuse the girl or murder her outright, and, of course, his son and heir, ‘Jackets,’ will come in as the motive. Once let the kid get the boodle, and Dan Hobart will know what to do. He'll corral kid and all, and make tracks fo? another city, where business in our line is a little more easy.” He strolled out of the club a little later, and sauntered slowly down the street. Suddenly some one pulled his coat-tails sharply. He turned and discovered “Jack- ets.” “T broke away frum ’em, boss,” said the boy, with a grin of delight. “Dey can’t make no bloomin’ jav actor outer dis chicken, you bet! Now, what’s de game ter-day, boss? Is der anyting doin’? I’se aint nipped er ting fer two days an’ it’s er gittin’ discouragin’ !”’ ; pe ~~. — CHAPTER XII. et A WEED OF .HON OR. ‘He has gone! ‘Jackets’ has gone! Oh, Bert, what shall we do? The child has run away again, and his poor mother is nearly crazy!” Marion asked the question with tears in her eyes, as she and Alma met Bert and the doc- tor in the hotel parlor. “And to think we only left him with Ol- cott while we went to see about the car- riages !” “Well, Olcott is a chump, and no mistake!” was Bert’s disgusted answer. “We must get him back, that is all there is about it,” went on the young girl, decidedly. “His mother is sure that his father has stolen him; still, I can’t help feeling that she is mis- taken in that. Why, how could any one ea, that Ida was determined to leave the city: “Oh, he’s quietly vamoosed and gone back to selling papers,” said the doctor, laughing. “It would be actually impossible to keep that child from the streets. He’s a typical gamin. You can’t make anything else out of him.” “Well, if it wasn’t for our visit to that flour ECOmicoooks.c© im