Read Frank Merriwell's New Comedian; Or, The Rise of a Star Page 22


  CHAPTER XXI.

  GALLUP MEETS THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN.

  The mechanical arrangements and special scenery had arrived and weremoved into the theater. Supers had been engaged to attend rehearsal inthe afternoon, so that they might know their business when evening came.

  Frank attended to the details of much of the work of making ready,although he had full confidence in Havener and Hodge, who assisted him.He saw that the mechanical effect representing the boat race was put upand tested, making sure it worked perfectly. He was anxious about this,for any hitch in that scene was certain to ruin the whole play.

  Gallup proved valuable. He worked about the stage, and he was of greatassistance to Havener, who wished Merriwell to appoint him assistantstage manager.

  Of course, everybody was anxious about the result, but the majority ofthe company had confidence in Merriwell and his play. Cassie Lee,perhaps, was the only one who was never assailed by a doubt concerningthe outcome.

  "I shall do my best to-night--at any cost," she told Frank.

  At that moment he did not pause to consider the real meaning of herwords. Afterward he knew what she meant. She still carried a tiny needlesyringe and a phial that contained a certain dangerous drug that had sonearly wrought her ruin.

  The various members of the company drifted into the theater by the stageentrance, looked over their dressing rooms and the stage and drifted outagain. They had been engaged to act, and they did not propose to workwhen it was not necessary.

  Gallup whistled as he hustled about the work Havener directed him to do.He made his long legs carry him about swiftly, although he sometimestripped over his own feet.

  Ephraim was arranging a mass of scenery so that every piece would behandy for use that night when the time came to use it. While doing this,he was surprised to see one of the dressing-room doors cautiously openand a person peer out.

  "Gosh!" exclaimed the Vermonter, stepping back out of sight. "Who'sthat?"

  Again the person peered out of the dressing room, as if to make sure thecoast was clear.

  "I must be dreamin'!" thought the Vermont youth, rubbing his eyes. "I'vegot 'em jest from hearin' Frank and Hodge talk so much about her."

  A moment later he changed his mind.

  "No, by ginger!" he hissed, as the person slipped out of the dressingroom. "It's her!"

  It was "her," and that means that it was the mysterious veiled woman!

  Recovering instantly from the shock of his surprise, Gallup sprang outfrom behind the scenery and made a rush for the unknown.

  "Hold on!" he cried. "B'gosh! yeou've gotter give a 'count of yerself,an' don't yeou fergit it!"

  She started, turned on him, dodged. He flung out his hand and clutchedat her, catching hold of the chain that encircled her neck and suspendedher purse.

  "I want yeou!" palpitated the Yankee youth. "Yeou're jest the----"

  Flirt!--the woman made a quick motion toward him. Something struckEphraim in his eyes, burning like fire. He was nearly knocked down bythe shock, and a yell of pain escaped his lips.

  "I'm blinded!" he groaned.

  It was true; he could not see.

  With something like a scornful laugh, the woman flitted away anddisappeared, leaving poor Ephraim bellowing with pain and clawing at hiseyes, as if he would dig them out of his head.

  "Murder!" he howled. "Oh, I'm dyin'! Somebody come quick! My eyes hevbeen put aout! Oh, wow-wow! Oh, I wisht I'd staid to hum on the farm!"

  Down on the floor he fell, and over and over he rolled in the greatestagony.

  Havener and some of the regular theater hands heard his wild cries andcame rushing to the spot. They found him on the floor, kicking andthrashing about.

  "What's the matter?" demanded the stage manager.

  Gallup did not hear him.

  "I'm dyin'!" he blubbered. "Oh, it's an awful way ter die! My eyes aregone! Ow-yow!"

  "What is the matter?" Havener again cried, getting hold of the thrashingyouth. "What has happened?"

  "Stop her!" roared Ephraim, realizing that some person had come andthinking instantly that the woman must be detained. "Don't let her giterway!"

  "Don't let who get away?"

  "The woman! Ow-wow! Bring a pail of warter an' let me git my head interit! I must do somethin' ter put aout the fire! Oh, my eyes! my eyes!"

  "What is the matter with your eyes?"

  "She threw somethin' inter 'em."

  "She?"

  "Yes."

  "Who?"

  "The woman."

  "What woman?"

  "The veiled woman--the one that has made all the trouble fer Merry! Oh,this is jest awful!"

  "What are you talking about?" demanded Havener, impatiently. "There isno veiled woman here! Have you lost your senses?"

  Then, realizing that they were doing nothing to prevent her from makingher escape, Gallup sat up and howled:

  "She was here! I saw her comin' aout of a dressin' room. Oh, dear! Yow!I tried to ketch her! Oh, my eyes! She flung somethin' inter my face an'put both my eyes out!"

  "Something has been thrown into his eyes!" exclaimed Havener. "It's redpepper! He is telling the truth! Somebody get some water! Somebody runto a drug store and get something for him to use on his eyes!"

  "Darn it all!" shouted Gallup. "Let me die, ef I've gotter! but don'tlet that infarnal woman git erway!"

  "I will try to see to that," said Havener, rushing away.

  He dashed down to the stage door, but he was too late, for thedoorkeeper told him the veiled woman had gone out.

  "Why in the world did you let her in?" angrily demanded the irate stagemanager.

  "She said she belonged to the company."

  "She lied! She has half killed one of the company!"

  "I heard the shouts," said the doorkeeper, "and I thought somebody washurt. But it wasn't my fault."

  "If she tries to come in here again, seize and hold her. I'll give youfive dollars if you hold her till I can reach her! She is a femaletiger!"

  Then Havener rushed back to see what could be done for Gallup.

  Groaning and crying, Gallup was washing the pepper from his eyes, whichwere fearfully inflamed and swollen. He could not see Havener, but heardhis voice, and eagerly asked:

  "Did ye ketch the dratted critter?"

  "No; she got out before I reached the door."

  "Darn her!" grated Ephraim. "I say darn her! Never said ennything as badas that about a female woman before, but I jest can't help it this time!I won't be able to see fer a week!"

  "Oh, yes, you will," assured Havener. "But I rather think your eyes willlook bad for some time to come."

  "Here is something he had in his hand," said one of the supers. "It'sher purse, I reckon; but there ain't no money in it."

  Havener took it.

  "Are you sure there wasn't any money in it when you examined it?" heasked, sharply.

  The super seemed to feel insulted, and he angrily protested that hewould not have touched a cent if there had been five hundred dollars init.

  "But I notice you had curiosity enough to examine the contents of it,"came dryly from the stage manager. "I'll just keep this. It may prove tobe a valuable clew to the woman's identity."

  Everything possible was done for Ephraim's eyes, but it was a long timebefore he was much relieved from the agony he was suffering. Then he wastaken to the hotel, with a bandage over his eyes, and a doctor came toattend him.

  The physician said he would do everything possible to get Ephraim intoshape to play that evening, but he did not give a positive assurancethat he would be able to do so. As soon as Frank heard of the misfortunewhich had befallen the Vermont youth, he hastened to the hotel and tothe room where Ephraim was lying on the bed.

  Gallup heard his step and recognized it when he entered.

  "I'm slappin' glad yeou've come, Frank!" he exclaimed.

  "And I am terribly sorry you have met with such a misfortune, Ephraim,"declared Merry.

  "So be I, Frank
--so be I! But I'm goin' ter play my part ter-night urbu'st my galluses tryin'! I ain't goin' to knock aout the show ef I kinhelp it."

  "That was not what I meant. I was sorry because of the pain you musthave suffered."

  "Waal, it was ruther tough," the faithful country lad confessed. "Bygum! it was jest as ef somebody'd chucked a hull lot of coals rightinter my lookers. It jest knocked me silly, same ez if I'd bin hit witha club."

  "How did it happen? Tell me all about it."

  Ephraim told the story of his adventure, finishing with:

  "I kainder guess that red pepper warn't meant fer me, Frank. That wasmeant fer yeou. That woman was in there ter fix yeou so yeou couldn'tplay ter-night."

  "It's quite likely you may be right, Ephraim; but she had to give it toyou in order to escape. But where is this purse you snatched from her?"

  "On the stand, there. Havener tuck possession of it, but I got him toleave it here, so yeou might see it right away when yeou came."

  Frank found the purse and opened it. From it he drew forth a crumpledand torn telegram. Smoothing this out, he saw it was dated at CastleRock the previous day. It read as follows:

  "Mrs. Hayward Grace, Puelbo, Colo.

  "All right. Close call. Fell from train into river. Came near drowning, but managed to swim out. Will be along on first train to-morrow. Keep track of the game.

  "P. F."

  Frank jumped when he read that.

  "By Jove!" he cried.

  "Whut is it?" Ephraim eagerly asked.

  "I believe I understand this."

  "Do ye?"

  "Sure! This was from the man who fell from the train into the river--theman disguised as a woman, who attacked me on the rear platform!"

  "Looks zif yeou might be right."

  "I am sure of it! The fellow escaped with his life! It is marvelous!"

  "I sh'u'd say so!"

  "He dispatched his accomplice, the woman, to let her know that he wasliving."

  "Yeou've struck it, Frank!"

  "And she was the one who got out the accusing flyers, charging me withthe crime of murder!"

  "I bet!"

  "The man is in this city now, and they are working together again."

  "I dunno'd I see whut they're goin' to make aout of it, but mebbe yeoudo."

  "Not yet. They must be enemies I have made."

  "Who's Mrs. Hayward Grace?"

  "Never heard the name before."

  "Waal, he didn't sign his name Hayward Grace, so it seems he ain't herhusband; don't it, Frank?"

  "He signed 'P. F.' Now, I wonder what one of my enemies can be fitted tothose initials?"

  "I dunno."

  "Nor do I. But this telegram has given me a feeling of relief, for I amglad to know the man was not drowned."

  "Drownin's too good fer him! He oughter be hung!"

  "Although my conscience was clear in the matter, I am glad to know thatI was in no way connected with his death. Hodge will not be so pleased,for he will not stop to reason that the chances of a charge of murderbeing brought against us are about blotted out. Ephraim, I am very sorryyou were hurt, but I'm extremely glad you snatched this purse andbrought me this telegram. I shall take care of it. I shall use it totrace my enemies, if possible."

  "Waal, I'm glad I done somethin', though I'd bin a 'tarnal sight gladderif I hed ketched that woman."

  Frank carefully placed the purse and the telegram in his pocket, wherehe knew it would be safe.

  Assuring Ephraim that everything possible should be done for him, hehastened out.

  That afternoon the rehearsal took place, with another person readingEphraim's part. It was feared that Gallup would not be able to see toplay when it came night, but Frank hoped that he could, and the Vermontyouth vowed he'd do it some way.

  The rehearsal passed off fairly well, although there were some hitches.Havener looked satisfied.

  "I'd rather it would go off this way than to have it go perfectlysmooth," he declared. "I've noticed it almost always happens that agood, smooth rehearsal just before a first performance means that theperformance will go bad, and vice versa."

  Frank had not been long in the business, but he, also, had observed thatit often happened as Havener had said.

  The theater orchestra rehearsed with them, getting all the "cue music"arranged, and having everything in readiness for the specialties.

  The night came at last, and the company gathered at the theater,wondering what the outcome would be.

  Gallup was on hand, but he still had the bandage over his eyes. He waswearing it up to the last minute, so that he would give them as muchrest as possible.

  "Somebody'll hev ter make me up ter-night," he said. "I don't believe Ikin see well enough ter do that."

  Havener agreed to look after that.

  While the various members were putting the finishing touches on theirtoilet and make-up, word came that people were pouring into the theaterin a most satisfactory manner. The orchestra tuned up for the overture.

  Frank went round to see that everybody was prepared. He had fallen intothat habit, not feeling like depending on some one else to do it.

  Most of the men were entirely ready. A few were making the last touches.Stella Stanley and Agnes Kirk were all ready to go on.

  "Where is Cassie?" asked Merry.

  "In the dressing room," said Stella. "She told us not to wait for her.Said she would be right out."

  Frank went to the dressing room. The door was slightly open, and,through the opening, he saw Cassie. She had thrust back the sleeve ofher left arm, and he saw a tiny instrument in her right hand. He knew ina twinkling what she was about to do.

  With a leap, Frank went into that room and caught her by the wrist.

  "Cassie!" he cried, guardedly. "You told me you had given it up! Youtold me you'd never use morphine again!"

  "Frank!" she whispered, looking abashed. "I know I told you so! I meantit, but I must use it just once more--just to-night. I am not feeling atmy best. I'm dull and heavy. You know how much depends on me. If I don'tdo well I shall ruin everything. It won't hurt me to use it just thisonce. The success of 'True Blue' may depend on it!"

  "If the success of 'True Blue' depended on it beyond the shadow of adoubt, I would not let you use it, Cassie! Great heavens! girl, you aremad! If you fall again into the clutches of that fiend nothing can saveyou!"

  "But the play----"

  "Do you think I would win success with my play at the price of yoursoul! No, Cassie Lee! If I knew it meant failure I would forbid you touse the stuff in that syringe. Here, give it to me!"

  He took it from her and put it into his pocket.

  "Now," he said, "it is out of your reach. You must play without it.There goes the overture. The curtain will go up in a few minutes. All Iask of you is to do your best, Cassie, let it mean success or failure."

  CHAPTER XXII.

  THE END OF THE ROPE.

  The theater was packed. Under no circumstances had Frank anticipatedsuch an audience on the opening night. He felt sure that the advertisinggiven him through the effort of his enemies to injure him had done muchto bring people out. Another thing had brought them there. Curiosity ledmany of them to the theater. They remembered Merriwell's firstappearance in Puelbo and its outcome, and they had not forgotten how, ina speech from the stage, he had vowed that he would bring the play backthere and give a successful performance. He had rewritten the piece, andit had been played in Denver to an invited audience, every member ofwhich went away highly pleased. The Denver papers had pronounced infavor of it.

  Puelbo people admired pluck and determination. They could not helpfeeling admiration for the dogged persistency of Frank Merriwell. Andthey really hoped he would make good his promise to give a successfulperformance.

  Frank's first entrance was carefully worked up to in the play, and hewas astounded when he came laughing and singing onto the stage, to begreeted by a perfect whirlwind
of applause. Nor did the applause ceasetill he had recognized it by bowing.

  Then, as everything quieted down and the play was about to move onagain, there came a terrible cry that rang through the house:

  "Fire!"

  Frank understood in a twinkling that it was a false alarm, given for thepurpose of producing a stampede and raising the performance.

  After that cry for a moment everybody sat as if turned to stone. It wasthe calm before the panic.

  Then Frank's voice rang out clear as a bell:

  "There is no fire! Keep your seats!"

  Some had sprung up, but his clear voice reached every part of the house,and it checked the movement.

  "Fire! fire!"

  Shrill and piercing was the cry, in the voice of a woman.

  "Arrest that woman!" cried Frank. "She is trying to ruin thisperformance! She is the one who circulated a lying and maliciouscircular charging me with the crime of murder. It was a part of a plotto ruin me!"

  Frank confessed afterward that he did not understand why the audienceremained without stampeding after that second alarm. It must have beenthat there was a magic something in his voice and manner that convincedthem and held them. At any rate, there was no rush for the doors.

  All at once there was a commotion in the first balcony, from which thecries had come. Two policemen had seized a man and a woman, and thearrested pair were taken from the theater.

  Quiet was restored, and Frank made a few soothing remarks to theaudience, after which the play proceeded.

  And now he had the sympathy of every person in the great audience. Whenan actor has once fairly won the sympathy of his audience, he is almostsure of success.

  The first act went off beautifully. The storm and shipwreck at the closeof the act took with the spectators. There was hearty applause when thecurtain fell.

  Frank had arranged that things should be rushed in making ready for thesecond act. He wanted no long waits between acts, for long waits wearythe patience of the best audiences.

  The second act seemed to go even better than the first, if such a thingwere possible. The singing of the "Yale Quartet" proved a great hit, andthey were obliged to respond to encore after encore. Cassie's dancingand singing were well appreciated, and Frank, who was watching her,decided that she could not have done better under any circumstances. Hedid not know how hard she was working for success. He did not know thatshe had actually prayed that she might do better than she had ever donebefore in all her life.

  The discomfiture of _Spike Dubad_ at the close of the second act wasrelished by all.

  At last the curtain rose on the third act, round which the whole plot ofthe play revolved. Now, the interest of the audience was keyed up to theright pitch, and the anxiety of the actors was intense.

  The first scene went off all right, and then came the change to thescene where the boat race was shown on the river. Everything workedperfectly, and there was a tumult in that theater when the stagesuddenly grew dark, just as the Yale boat was seen to forge into thelead.

  And then, in a few moments, the distant sounds of cheering and thescreaming of steam whistles seemed to burst out close at hand, fillingthe theater with an uproar of sound. Then up flashed the lights, and theopen boathouse was shown, with the river beyond. The boats flashed in atthe finish, the Yale cheer drowned everything else, and Frank Merriwellwas brought onto the stage in the arms of his college friends.

  The curtain came down, but the audience was standing and cheering likemad, as if it had just witnessed the success of its favorite in a realcollege race. The curtain went up for the tableau again and again, butthat audience would not be satisfied till Frank Merriwell came out andsaid something.

  Frank came at last, and such an ovation as he received it brought ahappy mist to his eyes.

  "There he is!" somebody cried. "He said he would come back here with hisplay and do the trick!"

  "Well, he has done it!" cried another. "And he is the real FrankMerriwell, who has shown us the kind of never-say-die pluck that hasmade Yale famous the world over. Three cheers for Frank Merriwell!"

  They were given. Then all Frank could say was a few choking words:

  "My friends, I thank you from the bottom of my heart! You cannot knowhow much was depending on the success or failure of this play. Perhapsall my future career depended on it. I vowed I would win----"

  "And you have!" shouted a voice.

  "It seems so. Again, I thank you. I am too happy to say more. Words areidle now."

  He retired.

  * * * * *

  Frank Merriwell had won with his play; "True Blue" was a success. In hishappiness he forgot his enemies, he forgot that two persons had beenarrested in the balcony. It was not till the next morning when he wasinvited by a detective to come to the jail to see the prisoners that hethought of them.

  The detective accompanied him.

  "I have been on this fellow's track for a long time," he explained."Spotted him in the theater last night, but was not going to arrest himtill the show was over. The woman with him created the disturbance, andtwo policemen took them both in. I don't want her for anything, but Ishall take the man back to Chicago, to answer to the charge of forgery.I shall hold him here for requisition papers."

  The jail was reached, and first Frank took a look at the woman. He feltthat she would prove to be the mysterious woman of the veil, and he wasright. She looked up at him, and laughed.

  "Good-morning, Mr. Merriwell," she said. "Pres and I have made thingsrather warm for you, you must confess. I reckon we made a mistake lastnight. We'd both been looking on the wine when it was red, or we'd notattempted to stampede the audience."

  "Why, it is the woman who claimed to be Havener's wife!" cried Frank.

  "Here is the man," said the detective.

  Frank turned to another cell.

  He was face to face with Philip Scudder, his old-time enemy, who hadreached the end of his rope at last!

  But, in the hour of victory, Frank gave little heed to those who hadmade his path to this present success a hard and stormy one.

  He was successful!

  As a playwright and as an actor he had won the palm of victory, thefuture seemed to promise all the rewards his energy and enterprisedeserved.

  He had started out from college with the determination to win wealth andfame. He had left the scenes of his early triumphs and firstmisfortunes, with the firm purpose to return honored and enriched by hisown labors.

  Now he was on the eve of accomplishing that purpose.

  And as he looked into the future, the lines of will power anddetermination that had always marked his handsome countenance grewfirmer, as he murmured:

  "I will myself be 'True Blue!' Come what may, let my paths for the nextfew months be as untoward as they ever have been, difficulties shall butact as a spur to me in my purpose. For I shall be, soon, I hope, oncemore a son of 'Old Eli.'"

  THE END.

  No. 41 of The Merriwell Series, entitled "Frank Merriwell's Prosperity,"by Burt L. Standish, shows our hero as a successful playwright, and on afair way to fame and fortune.

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  Stories of his adventures would be most difficult to write for one whohad not shared his camp-fire days; but Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, whowrote the stories in Buffalo Bill's Border Stories, was his booncompanion, sharing all of his marvelous adventures--even to beingwounded with him.

  Therefore, while apparently they are fiction, actually, these storiesare based upon fact and written by a clever pen.

  If you like good Western adventure, look up the Buffalo Bill BorderStories at your news dealer's. There are many different ones--you arebound to find them interesting and surprisingly good at the price.
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