MARION’S STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE.
It was Reginald Brookes who sent a carriage for Marion on the day that
she was allowed to leave the Chambers St. Hospital to return for a few
days to the little flat in Harlem.
Through some mysterious medium he had heard of Mr. Ray and was
determined if possible to outdo his rival in kind attentions to Marion.
“I’ll never stoop to anything but a fair fight,” he said to his
mother, “and as this Mr. Ray is a gentleman, I have no doubt but that
he is honorable. She must choose between us; when she does I shall be
satisfied.”
“You are as noble as you are sensible, my son,” was his mother’s fond
answer, “and Miss Marlowe is not the girl, I am sure, to be fickle in
her decision.”
When Dr. Brookes reached the little flat to welcome Marion back from
the hospital, he found Dollie and Miss Allyn much worried.
“Marion should have been here at five o’clock,” said Dollie, half
crying. “Miss Allyn telephoned and learned that she left the hospital
at four, and now just look, it is nearly seven!”
“Something must have happened!” said Miss Allyn, soberly, “but how
shall we find out, that is the question, doctor?”
Dr. Brookes paced the floor in the greatest consternation. He looked
at his watch repeatedly, and seemed to be figuring something.
Suddenly a sharp ring of the bell made their hearts beat wildly. Dollie
rushed out in the hall and came face to face with Bert Jackson.
“You are all scared to death about Marion, aren’t you?” he began,
abruptly; “well, you needn’t worry, she’ll probably be here in a
minute! There was a drunken woman fighting in the street down town and
of course Marion had to stop and take a hand in the scrimmage. Oh! I
don’t mean that she did any of the scrapping!” he explained as he saw
their astonished faces, “but she just put a stop to the row and then
hauled that woman into her cab and took her to her home, and that’s
what has detained her!”
“It’s just like Marion!” cried Dollie, laughing.
“It was dreadful risky,” said Miss Allyn, shaking her head.
“It is awful!” cried Dr. Brookes, almost frantic as he thought of it.
“Why, the girl will be robbed or killed if she doesn’t stop doing for
such common people!”
“You ought to have seen her,” said Bert, who was bristling with
admiration. “There was a big crowd all around the woman, who was
dancing and yelling, and just as the carriage drove by a policeman
charged into the crowd and was going to grab the woman when she jabbed
a hat pin into him. Wow! but you ought to have heard him howl! The mob
gave him the laugh and that made him madder, and in a jiffy he yanked
his club out of his belt and made a lunge at her—and he’d have knocked
her silly if it hadn’t been for Marion!”
“What did she do?” asked Dollie, breathlessly.
“Do! Why, she just threw open the carriage door and stood on the step;
then her voice rang out like a silver bugle as she cried: ‘Don’t you
dare to strike that woman, officer! Shame on you, you brute! I will
report your conduct!’”
“And then what happened?” asked Miss Allyn, excitedly.
“Then the ‘cop’ fell back and looked ashamed of himself, and Marion
jumped down from the carriage and started for the woman and the crowd
made way for her as though she was an empress—and she didn’t look
unlike one, either, you bet, for her head was up in the air and her
eyes just shot sparks at them! Oh, Marion just knocked them speechless!
I tell you she is a dandy!”
“Go on with your story!” said Dr. Brookes, still anxiously. “I want to
know exactly what happened after that.”
“Why, Marion got hold of the woman and coaxed her to the carriage and
when the woman told her where she lived she ordered the driver to go
there and my! how the crowd yelled when they drove off together.”
“Then there is no knowing where she is now?” said Dr. Brookes, hastily.
“The brave girl may have been imposed upon by the drunken woman! Have
you any idea what address she gave her?”
Bert Jackson looked crestfallen for about a minute, then a ray of joy
illumined his features.
“I wasn’t near enough to hear the address,” he said, quickly. “You see,
I was riding by with my adopted father, and it was only by a good bit
of coaxing that I made him let me off, but a man in the crowd told me
that the woman was May Osgood, and that she was an actress from some
theatre or other.”
“Great Heavens! Greenaway’s sweetheart!” cried Reginald Brookes, “and
drunk on the street!”
As the others were staring at him, he hastened to explain, and before
he had finished another peal of the bell startled them.
“This is surely Marion!” cried Dollie, darting down the stairs.
But once more she was doomed to bitter disappointment, for half way
down the first flight she met Mr. Ray and his sister, both pale as
ghosts, and Adele almost crying.
“Oh, what is it?” gasped Dollie, who thought only of her sister. “Has
anything happened? Have you heard from Marion?”
Not even Miss Allyn thought to introduce the two gentlemen, but without
a moment’s hesitation Mr. Ray stepped straight up to the doctor.
“You and Bert must come with me right away!” he said, quickly. “Miss
Marlowe has been inveigled into an awful trap, and it depends on us to
get her out of it!”
“I’m ready!” cried Bert, clenching his fists and setting his teeth.
“Lead the way!” said Dr. Brookes, snatching up his hat immediately.
“Have you a revolver?” was Mr. Ray’s astonishing question.
Miss Allyn rushed to her trunk and brought out a small weapon.
“I keep it for burglars; it’s better than nothing,” she said, briefly;
“but how about the police? Can’t they aid you in this matter?”
“They would only bungle it,” was Mr. Ray’s evasive reply. “Marion has
been lured into the apartments of a wicked woman and while I do not
fear that she will meet with bodily harm——”
Miss Allyn interrupted him before he could finish.
“Go, at once!” she said, quickly, “we will be calm and wait for you.”
As the three young men tramped noisily down the stairs, poor,
frightened Dollie went promptly into hysterics.
“Hush! Don’t cry, Dollie!” said Miss Allyn, sternly. “If those three
young men who love Marion cannot save her, I shall be greatly mistaken;
besides, if you cry so you will not be able to hear what Miss Ray tells
me, and I am sure you wish to know what has happened to your sister!”
Dollie stifled her sobs, and wiped her eyes.
In a few moments she was quiet and ready to listen.
“I’ll tell you all I know as quickly as possible,” Adele Ray said,
brokenly; “and Oh, girls, I want your sympathy for my poor, dear
brother!”