CHAPTER XXXI.

  A WOMAN'S VENGEANCE.

  Farley stared at her, scowling savagely, as he said:

  "What's the matter? Got one of your cranky fits? If so, you had best notworry me, for I'm in no mood for nonsense."

  "Neither am I," was the quiet reply. "But I am going to talk a littlesolid sense to you."

  "I won't listen to you. I'm tired, and want to sleep."

  "You will sleep soon, and soundly. Come into the drawing room."

  Farley followed her, asking:

  "How is the girl?"

  "Asleep, under the influence of another dose of the drug."

  "Good! Well, what have you to say?"

  And he threw himself into a chair.

  "I shall not detain you long. I see by your manner that you have lostagain to-night."

  "Nearly every cent I had with me."

  "As usual."

  "I shall never enter Billy's place again."

  "No, I don't think you will."

  "What do you mean?" demanded Farley, uneasily. "I don't understand youto-night, Olga."

  "Don't you? Well, I will try to make myself understood."

  "Go on, then, and be quick about it. I'm dead tired."

  "I have stood by you for five years, have I not, Jack Farley?" demandedthe woman, fixing her large, dark eyes firmly on those of her companion.

  "Well, what of that?" growled the man. "It has been to your interest todo so, hasn't it? Have you ever had a decent engagement that I have notobtained for you? And haven't I stuck to you, too? See here, Olga, I amin no mood for recriminations this morning, and you may as well quitjust where you are. I see you are going to have one of your tantrums;well, you can have it all by yourself."

  Farley rose to leave the room, but his companion placed herself betweenhim and the door.

  "Wait," she said, in a strange, hard tone.

  "What's the matter with you to-night?" demanded Farley. "Have you gonecrazy?"

  "Perhaps. At any rate, I will compel you to listen to me."

  "You will compel me?" sneered the man. "And how do you propose to dothat?"

  "Do you see this?"

  And Miss Hollingsworth opened her hand, revealing a small cylindricalobject.

  "What is it?" asked Farley, curiously.

  "Dynamite."

  The man recoiled.

  "You're joking, Olga."

  "I am not. There is enough of the explosive here to tear this house topieces."

  "Where did you get it? What are you going to do with it?"

  "Never mind where I got it. As for what I am going to do with it, thatyou will learn very soon. Now, Jack Farley, will you listen to me?"

  "Yes, yes; but give me that stuff, Olga."

  "Sit down."

  Farley obeyed, with a very pale face.

  "Well, what is it?" he asked.

  "We are going to have a settlement at last. You no longer love me, JackFarley."

  "Nonsense, Olga. You know----"

  "I know that I am speaking the truth. You have thought me merely thecreature of your will; I have let you think so, I have borne yourindignities patiently----"

  "What indignities?" interrupted Farley. "I don't know what you aretalking about."

  "Was it not an indignity to almost force me to assist you in abductingmy rival?"

  "Your rival! Nonsense!"

  "This girl has supplanted me in your affections."

  "This is folly. I only did what I have to revenge myself on that kid,Allston, the girl's brother."

  "It is a lie, and I know it. But all will soon be over now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Just what I say, Jack Farley."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Explode this dynamite, and end all at once. Jack, in two minutes you,she and I will be in eternity!"

  "Are you stark, staring mad? Give me that stuff!"

  The woman laughed wildly.

  "No, the hour has come!" she cried.

  She lifted the cylinder above her head, with the evident intention ofhurling it to the hard wood floor.

  But at that instant her arm was seized and the dynamite forced from herhand.

  "You have saved at least twenty lives!" gasped Farley, sinking, pale andtrembling, into a chair.

  "Where is my sister?" demanded Al Allston--for the newcomer washe--paying no attention to his enemy's words.

  "She shall be restored to you," said Farley, who was thoroughly soberedby the shock.

  "She shall not," cried the woman. "She shall not leave this housealive!"

  It was plain to Al that Miss Hollingsworth was mentally deranged, andnot wholly responsible for her conduct and words.

  "Where is she?" he repeated.

  "She is asleep in yonder room," said Farley, pointing to a door at thefarther end of the drawing room. "Take her with you and go."

  The plotter seemed entirely unnerved; he was ready to surrender at onceand without protest all that for which he had schemed so long.

  The boy advanced toward the apartment designated. Miss Hollingsworthmade no attempt to detain him as he passed her; but there was a strange,meaning smile on her face, the significance of which our hero did notcomprehend.

  He entered the adjoining room. His sister lay upon the bed, fullydressed and apparently asleep. He was about to lift her in his arms whenthere came from the other room a strange, wild peal of laughter. It wasimmediately followed by a terrific explosion.

  Al was thrown to the floor, half stunned by the shock.

  In a few moments he had risen. The wall separating the two rooms waspartially destroyed; the drawing room was in flames, there was nopossibility of escape in that direction.

  The boy rushed to the window and threw it open.

  An exclamation burst from his lips; there was a fire escape outside.

  He lifted the still unconscious girl in his arms, and a moment later hehad begun the perilous descent of the frail iron ladder.

  It was made in safety; in a few moments Al had deposited the girl in acarriage which had been in waiting for him.

  By this time, early as was the hour, the street was thronged withpeople, attracted by the terrific explosion.

  The upper part of the house was in flames, the fire escape was nowcrowded, and the half-dressed tenants of the building were rushing out,panic-stricken, from the various exits.

  Al was fortunate enough to attract but little attention; five minuteslater he and his sister were in a place of safety.

  His sudden appearance on the scene may be briefly explained.

  The hack driver, Tim Story, had given him the card which he had receivedfrom Farley, and Al had lost no time in going to the address given.

  In their excitement Farley and his companion had left the outer door oftheir flat unfastened, and the boy had been able to effect an entrancewithout difficulty. As had happened more than once before in his life,his natural energy and push had been supplemented by good luck.

  A physician, whom Al at once summoned, gave it as his opinion thatGladys was under the influence of an opiate, but that in all probabilitythere was no danger of serious results from the adventure.

  CHAPTER XXXII.

  AND LAST.

  It was nearly ten o'clock that morning when the girl awoke from herstupor; and, to Al's intense relief, she seemed none the worse for herexperience.

  All she could remember of the events of the previous night was that shehad been forced to enter the carriage at the stage door of the RocktonTheater, and that as soon as she was inside the vehicle a handkerchiefsaturated with some drug--chloroform, she believed--had been pressed toher nostrils. Then she lost all consciousness of her surroundings.

  She had no recollection whatever of the journey to New York, or of anyof the subsequent events.

  The afternoon papers contained exciting accounts of the explosion. Alhad unreservedly given the police all the facts in the case; and in thehands of the reporters the story lost nothing.

 
The building had been saved from total destruction by the efforts of thefiremen, and it was known that no lives had been lost, except those ofMiss Hollingsworth and Jack Farley; it seemed certain that they musthave perished. It was found that the former had premeditated herhorrible crime, and had prepared for emergencies; she had, on theprevious day, supplied herself with no less than half a dozen of thedynamite cylinders, so that the loss of the one which Al had taken fromher was no obstacle to the accomplishment of her plan.

  Once more Al was the hero of the hour. When he rejoined Mr. Wattles, twodays after the events we have just related, he was met at the station bya crowd of citizens, who unhitched the horses from the carriage that wasin waiting for him and his sister, and insisted upon dragging thevehicle to the hotel, much to the embarrassment of the two young people.

  Al suspected Mr. Wattles to be the instigator of this proceeding, andaccused him of having incited the populace to behave as they had.

  "What is the matter with you?" the old gentleman asked. "Such a tributeof admiration would turn the head of almost anyone, but you kick aboutit."

  "Didn't you work up the demonstration?" persisted Al.

  "Suppose I did?"

  "Well, don't do it again."

  "I shan't have to. I've set the ball rolling, and the chances are thatsomething of the sort will happen at every town we visit during the nexttwo weeks."

  Al groaned.

  "I believe I'll throw up the job," he said, half in jest, and half inearnest.

  "Well, I believe you won't," said the manager, very much in earnest."You're just the sort of agent I want. Why, you can't help havingadventures and getting into the papers."

  "That sort of thing won't last forever."

  "I suppose not; but, when you cease to be a popular hero, I think I cantrust to your good judgment and business ability to manage things. Throwup the job! I should say not! I couldn't get along without you. And,besides, if you left me, your sister would go, too."

  "That need not necessarily follow."

  "She would go; and I tell you I could not get along without her,either."

  Mr. Wattles always spoke of Miss March with an awkward, embarrassed airthat puzzled Al.

  "But, of course," he continued, hastily, "you do not mean what you said.Remember, you promised me----"

  "I never went back on my word yet," interrupted Al, "and I shall notnow. But I wish these public demonstrations would cease. They seem to meridiculous, and they annoy me a good deal more than you seem to think."

  "Well, you are the queerest press agent I ever struck," said themanager. "However, I guess you won't be much bothered--after to-night."

  "Eh?" cried Al. "After to-night? What do you mean by that? What is to bedone to-night?"

  "Oh, nothing in particular. I ought not to have mentioned it."

  "Yes, you ought. Come, out with it!"

  "Well, I suppose I may as well. The fact is, the citizens of this placehave decided to----"

  "Not another speech-making affair at the theater?" interrupted the boy,in horrified accents.

  "Well," blurted out Mr. Wattles, "that's just it."

  "I shan't be here. You know I've got to go ahead to the next town thisafternoon."

  "Oh, no, you haven't," smiled the old gentleman. "The fact is, the saleis so big that I have felt justified in canceling the next two towns,and we are to stay here the remainder of the week. There's no gettingout of it, my boy; the thing has got to come off, and this time you willhave to make a speech."

  At first Al would not hear of this, and declared that he would start forhome. But he at last allowed his companion's eloquence to overcome hisobjections, and agreed to remain.

  How he dreaded the ordeal no one but he ever knew, but he made up hismind that, as he put it to himself, he would "see the thing through." Heprepared a brief speech, which he memorized, and which he hoped to beable to deliver without breaking down.

  Evening came only too soon, and Al, arrayed in a new dress suit, awaitedthe inevitable call for his appearance. Everything had been "cut anddried," and he knew that there was no escape.

  At the end of the first act of the play there arose a shout, "Allston!Allston!"

  "Go on, my boy," said Mr. Wattles, who, with his protege stood upon thestage, just behind the curtain. "What are you trembling for? This oughtto be the proudest moment of your life."

  With these words he fairly pushed the boy before the audience.

  Then arose a whirlwind of applause. When it had subsided, Al tried tobegin his speech. But to his utter consternation, he found that he hadforgotten every word of it.

  But he was not, after all, obliged to deliver it. As he stood, trying toremember at least one word of the carefully prepared effort, a mansuddenly advanced from the rear of one of the proscenium boxes, leveleda pistol at the boy's head and fired.

  The bullet whistled past Al's ear, but did not graze it. The next momentthe would-be assassin was struggling in the hands of the other occupantsof the box. He managed to free himself; then came another report, andthe next moment Jack Farley lay dead on the floor of the box, a suicide.

  How he had escaped from the doom with which he had been threatened onthe previous night, how he had succeeded in entering the theater withoutattracting attention, will never be known.

  Al's speech was forgotten in the excitement, and he was not obliged tomake it, after all.

  * * * * *

  In a few weeks Al ceased to be a popular idol, but he was daily learningnew "points" and becoming more and more valuable to his employer; he wasalready recognized as one of the brightest advance agents on the road.

  One morning, about two months after the tragedy that we have justrecorded, his sister came to him and said:

  "Al, I have a favor to ask of you. Will you grant it?"

  "I promise in advance," was the prompt reply.

  "Then congratulate me."

  "On what?"

  "I am going to be married."

  "Married!" gasped the boy. "To whom?"

  "To Mr. Wattles."

  "You're joking."

  "Indeed, I am not!"

  "Why, he is forty years your senior."

  "He is a good, true man, and I love him; that's enough for me."

  "Then it is enough for me, too, sister," was Al's quick reply, "and I doheartily congratulate you."

  We need add but a few words. The marriage proved a most happy one, andMrs. Wattles--whose real name we should give, if we were permitted--isnow one of the most popular actresses and most estimable ladies on theAmerican stage.

  Al is now no longer an advance agent, but a manager. He is rapidlymaking a fortune; and, what is better, has earned a reputation forintegrity and uprightness second to that of none in his business.

  * * * * *

  Transcriber's note:

  The original edition of this book did not contain a table ofcontents. A table of contents has been created for thiselectronic edition.

  The following typographical errors in the original edition werecorrected.

  In Chapter III, "would, perhaps, he a good scheme" was changed to"would, perhaps, be a good scheme", and "his eyes over s contents" waschanged to "his eyes over its contents".

  In Chapter IV, "your prepartions for the performance" was changed to"your preparations for the performance".

  In Chapter VI, "his attention was atrracted by the sound" was changed to"his attention was attracted by the sound".

  In Chapter XI, "I want you take this" was changed to "I want you take tothis".

  In Chapter XXVI, "Where are ye?" was changed to "Where are we?"

  In Chapter XXVIII, "the boy grasped his ccompanion's arm" was changed to"the boy grasped his companion's arm".

 
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