Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 598 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

aw 2 seatiag those who preferred to wait until nearly time for the opening chorus before entering the theater. All was bustle, life and light, and parquette, boxes and dress circle were rapidly becoming a sea of faces, shining with anticipa- tion of pleasure to come. The members of the orchestra were filing into their chairs one by one, tuning their instruments and chatting with each other, waiting until the leader, in all the magnificence of evening dress, white tie and hair painfully brushed and scented, should condescend to make his appear- ance, On the stage, behind the curtain, the busy note of preparation was being sounded. The scene, a Japanese garden, with plenty of fans, umbrellas and lanterns of many-colored paper, had been ‘set,’ the stage-carpenter dodging here and there, putting the finishing toucnes. A few young men and girls, members of the chorus, in the quaint Japanese costumes now so familiar to every one through ‘‘The Mikado,” strolled about the stage exchanging a few words of badinage with the stage hands or telling each other that they were “frightfully out of voice to-night,” while the stage-manager, a short fussy man witha flabby face, who would later in the evening appear as the Mikado walked backward and forward in his shirt-sleeves per- spiring profusely, as he looked to see that every- thing was all right. ‘Orchestra in! First act!” he bawled, and the elegant leader, who had been peeping at the audience through a small hole in the curtain, made a frantic dive for a narrow, crooked stair- case that led below the stage in one corner. A moment later he emerged, smiling and serene, in the orchestra, and sat down to his piano. ‘‘Mr. Graul,” exclaimed the principal come- dian, dressed for Koko, the Lord High Execu- tioner, ‘‘ before you ring up the curtain, you had better tell us what we are going todo fora leading ‘tenor to-night.” a What do you mean?” asked the fussy stage- manager, shortly ; ‘‘ where’s Piper?” “ Sick.” ‘Sick? Sick? Why didn’t he sav so before? Where is he? IT’ll fine him $10. What does he mean by getting sick five minutes before the curtain goes up? Sick, indeed! Doesn’t he know that we baven’t a tenor in the company that can sing the music of Nanki-Poo?” ‘‘Guess he does.” answered the comedian, coolly. ‘I thought T’d just tell you, however. He is sitting in his dressing-room, with a flannel bandage around his throat, and a voice that can’t go above a whisper. He thought he would be all right by this evening, but he has got worse.” Long. before the comedian had finished his re- marks the stage manager was in the tenor’s dressing-room. He found that artist sitting disconsolately on a trunk, half-dressed for his part in the opera, and wondering what he should do when the time came for him to sing. ‘Well, Piper, what is this [ hear about your being sick?’ blurted out Graul, as he entered the stuffy little dressing-room. ‘*My voice has gone back on me,” answered Piper, in a wheezy whisper. he stage-manager’s mouth opened in dismay as he heard the wheeze, and he rushed away to the stage to see what he could do about filing Piper’s place. It was out of the question that he should attempt to sing to-night. sagem The orchestra was rattling away on the over- ture, and the magnificent leader was watching for the signal from bebind the footlights to play the music that accompanies the rise of the curtain for the opera, The members of the chorus were crowded on the stage—its male contingent in the half-circle ready to sing their opening number, *‘ We’re entlemen from Japan, while the girls were ud@led behind the wing to wait for their cue. With the eye of a veteran Peter Graul looked over the group of men and shook his head. ‘‘ There isn’t one of them that could do it,” he muttered, ‘‘even if he knew the music.” Then aloud: ‘* Will any of you do the leading tenor part, Nanki-Poo, to-night?” No cne volunteered, and @raul shrugged his shoulders in despair, when one little fellow, with a remarkably thin, discordant voice, who was retained in the company only because his sister was a useful member, offered to do the part, The stage-manager fairly howled at this, and the young man retreated to the ranks and was heard no more. The situation was a desperate one. The audi- ence were getting impatient, and were manifest- ing the fact by stamping and shuffing their feet. Something must be done promptly. Se rr Flute, the Singer Detective. Poor Graul was hotter and flabbier than ever. ‘* Where cau I get a tenor!” he wailed piti- fully. ‘* T will sing for you !” The offer was in a clear, boyish voice, and came from the lips of a bright young fellow, about twenty year's of age, dressed in blue over- alls and the general habiliments of a scene- shifter. He had a ruddy complexion, piercing gray eyes, and a wealth of blonde curls, which showed themselves under the old hat he wore like the nimbus of a saint. ‘‘What is your name? What do you know about singing? How long have you been em- ployed in the theater?” The young fellow answered the three questions one after the other in regular order. ‘‘My name is Arthur Graham, but I have been nicknamed Flute! I have been a member of a musical society for seven years, and have sung the role of Nanki-Poo in the Mikado three times in amateur performances. This is my first night in this theater. The stage-carpenter took me on as an extra.” ‘‘Humph! I'll have to try you. Come with me to the dressing-room and get into the clothes,” He walked rapidly across the stage, and then, telling the young man to wait a moment, ran back to the place where the curtain-bell hung, and rung up thecurtain. Then, as the opening chorus of the opera arose in a lusty burst of harmony, he led the new tenor to the dressing- room, and with his own hands assisted him to put on the costume of Nanki-Poo. ‘* Sure you know the music and all about it?” whispered Graul, as he stood in the wings by the side of the new tenor, who was waiting until his time came to go on, The young man did not answer. His eyes were fixed npon the face of a man standing be- hind a wing on the opposite side of the stage who, made up hideously for Pooh-Bah, ha taken off his Japanese wig and revealed a luxu- riant head of hair, pure white. ‘* Who is that man?” he asked, with a des- perate effort to control his voice. ‘“What man? Never mind atout him iow, Keep your thoughts on your business, or vou’ll break down,” returned the stage-manager, im- patiently. ‘* But—tell me—who is he? I think I have seen him before,” persisted the other. ‘*T dare say you have seen him before. He has been a member of this company for some time. Hisname is Roundel—Norman Roundel. Now, goon, There’s your cue,” A slight push from Graul, and Arthur Gra- ham was before the audience! He walked gracefully toward the footlights, and, after a few words spoken. prepared to sing his first solo, ‘* A wandering minstrel, I, a thing Of shreds and patches,” rung out a voice, clear and sweet as a bell, as the young man proceeded with the ballad that every one knows as one of the most taklng that Gilbert & Sullivan ever produced. ‘* Flute! Yes, indeed, that’s his name,” ejac- ulated Graul, delightedly, as the audience burst into a perfect hurricane of applause. ‘‘ I never heard such a voice in comic opera before, It és as sweet and clear as a flute.” The fussy stage-manager did not trouble him- self any further about the new tenor, now. hastened to his own dressing-room, and was soon painting away at his face and putting on the costume worn by the Mikado. At last Nanki-Poo came off the stage. As he did so he almost stumbled over the regular tenor, Ezra Piper; who was sitting on a low stool just behind a wing. ‘¢ You sung that very well,” said Ezra, in his wheezing whisper. ‘‘ Allow me to congratulate you,” He put out his hand. Grabam took it, but let it fall. It was cold and clammy, and the young man could not repress a shudder. -‘*T guess you are not well,” he observed, try- ing to speak phage 5 ** Not very,” was the answer, as Graham pass- ed on to get a glass of water, for his throat was hot and parched. As the young fellow walked away, Norman Roundel stepped over to Ezra Piper and whis- pered something in his ear. | Piper started. ** Are you sure ?” he gasped, huskily. **Quite. And what’s more, I believe he knows us, and is in thisetheater for nothing else than to pipe our lay !” As Norman Roundel uttered these mysterious words he snarled like a wolf-dog, making him- self look absolutely demoniacal in his Japanese make-up. ‘‘ But why should he come here?” asked Piper, as, the act over and the curtain down, he moved into a dark corner with Roundel. “Simple enough. He wants to keep a close watch, and he thinks he can spot us if he stays in the theater.” ‘* What shall we do?” ‘* Shut bim off, right away.” “* How?” Norman Roundel took from his belt a keen dagger that he wore in the character of Peob- Bah, and felt its edge and point significantly. ‘*Wouldn’t do!” wheezed Ezra—‘ unless he was to attack me first. Then it would be self- defense,” ‘‘T havo it,” exclaimed Roundel, after a pause, ‘“* Well?” ‘‘T have made it a point to become very fa- miliar with this stage.” **’Yes?” ‘*T will go below and take out the supports of that center trap. You get bim in conversation and see that be walks across it. Then—” A significant wink finished the sentence, ‘‘ But—isn’t it dangerous—for us, I mean?” ‘*‘ Ezra, you were always a white-livered cur, If you weren’t such a good workman with the drill and jimmy I would have sbaken you, long ago, This fellow knows us, I tell you, and we must stop his coming to the theater or going anywhere else for a week or two.” ‘He might break his back if he fails down ee, whined Ezra. ‘‘How bad that would e.’ Roundel grinned, and Piper pulled down the corners of his lips derisively. Then the former went down below the stage to do his part in the nefarious job, and Piper looked around for Flute, as everybody on the stage was already calling the new tenor. As the conspirators moved out of the corner a young girl, ina neat street costume, stepped from behind a dusty scene, and, with parted lips, through which the breath came quickly and convulsively, gazed sternly after them, ‘‘ The villains!” she whispered, with her pretty white teeth tightly clinched. ‘Ill foil them. He’s too nice a young man to suffer at their hands.” She blushed slightly, even though there was no one to hear her expressed admiration of the new tenor. ‘¢ T must be quick,” she added. ing to do it right now.” The stage bands had firisbed setting the scene for the second act, and the girl, looking at the center trap, saw it tremble silgbtly. Roundel was ready for his victim! Ezra Piper was walking toward it, holding the new tenor by the arm, and talking to bim earnestly, with the object of preventing the lat- ter from noticing his steps carefully. Surely, but apparently unconsciously, Piper was walking toward the trap. The young girl was on the other side of the stage. She couid not warn the young stranger; he would not un- derstand her. The two men had now reached the edge of the trap, when for some reason Arthur Graham ‘*They’re go- sto , the irl saw Piper try to force bis companion upon the trap, and saw the latter resist. She flew across the intervening space, seized Piper by the arm, and, with a sudden twist, pushed him upon the trap. There was a rattle, a crash, a smothered cry, and Ezra Piper sunk out of sight into the dark pit below the stage, ’ ‘“] saved you from the villaio!” she gasped, as, overcome with excitement, she fell fainting into the young singer’s arms. CHAPTER Il. TIGER JIMS WARNING. ‘‘Harttoa! Halloa! What’s all this?” de- manded the fmssy stage-manager, as in the grotesque dress of the Mikado, he bustled to the S pot. ‘‘ A snake crushed by this little girl,” answer- ed Arthur, ‘‘ and I think she’s crushed him very effectively.” ‘¢ Well, well, that’s strange! I don’t know just what you mean. But—-but—clear the stage. Second act! We can’t wait, Bob, fix that trap! That’s right. Blanche, get up hére!” He shook the young girl, but she was utterly unconscious, and no amount of shaking had any effect upon her. “ Well, well, carry her off, Mr.—Mr.—F lute. We cannot stop the performance. Here, second act, everybody! Get ready!” The young mancarried the young girl—whom eee Eee ee ee ee ee