Marion Marlowe in Salt Lake City — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

y It’s only a fake! Get out your geography, my boy, and take your bearings! inal Jordan! tation! A base imti- As if Heaven was anywhere in the vicinity of Salt Lake City!” Dr. Brookes laughed good-naturedly as they retraced their steps, then he pointed to the dome of the Mormon tabernacle that loomed up some distance ahead of them. “YT guess you are right, Bert, but there are no end of ‘saints’ here, nevertheless. know about the angels z3 I don’t “Oh, we brought them with us!” broke in Bert, quickly. “We have five big ones and a little one in the Temple Theatrical Company, not to mention Jackets and my- self, who are a couple of cherubs.” “Jackets is no cherub,” began the doctor, and, just then, a yell fell upon their ears, and Jackets, ‘the mascot of the company, came tearing down the street after them. “Hi there! Hold on, youse!” he piped, waving his hat in the air. “Did youse git on ter ther Injuns wot wuz right behind your” answered Bert, as he “Where did They disap- “Ves, we saw them,’ waited for the boy to come up. they vamoose to, anyhow? peared like two comets.” “Dey’re in de saloon on der corner. L seen ‘em tro’ de screen, ” said Jackets, star- ing back over his shoulder. “Now, wot’s. de good of Injuns, I’d like ter know, if dey’re jest like oder folks! W’y, dey're in dat sa- loon er drinkin’ jes’ like a couple ’er lushes wen dey’d orter be out here doin’ the scalp act dis minute!” “T guess they are tame Indians,” said Dr. Brookes, laughing, “and a civilized redskin is very much like any other man, only he may possibly be a little more fond of ‘fire water.’ ” “THello! Pert, as the two walked on. hoofs, and then three men What’s coming now!” exclaimed There was a clatter of horses ‘1 uniform came galloping t toward them, MY QUEEN. “It’s a sergeant and a couple of soldiers from Camp Douglas,” said the. doctor, after a quick glance. “Now, who the mischief do you think they are after.” “Jackets, of course!” was Bert’s prompt answer, as he made a sudden dive in the small boy’s direction. “Not on yer life!” squealed Jackets, as he darted to one side and then gave a shriil cry that made the mounted officer pull his horse up sharply. é “Be youse after de Injuns?” he called out, boldly. “Kaze, ef you be, youse has got ter hustle! I jest seen ’em doin’ de skedaddtle ax over t’wards de pavillyun!” ' Bert held his breath at that bit of iaforma-_ : but the litely to his apparently honest informant. he said, ‘and I am very sue indeed to ge’ tion, sergeant, totiched his cap po- “Tam after two runaway Indians,” briefly, * your information.” : He was just about to put spurs to his horse when Dr. py recovered from his astonishment. “Hold on a minute, sergeant,” he called, laughingly, “I guess it was the wrong In- dians that Jackets saw, but, perhaps, I can help you out by a word of advice: Take a look over the screen door of that corner sa- loon as you pass if.” . Jackets turned away with a disgusted look. “Dat’s wot I calls er low down trick, ter squeal on de Injuns!”” he muttered, resent- fully. “Wot’s de matter wid lettin’ dere jag? Jes’ tink of de fun we could er ‘em git had wid ’em.” The sergeant smiled grimly as he thanked the doctor; the next moment he dashed down to the corner, where he ordered his men to dismount and go in search of the runaways. , “Come on, Doc! There may be some fun yet!” called Bert, as he started toward the saloon. EO MMICLOOLKS,. CORN