CHAPTER XXI.—GALLUP MEETS THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN.
The mechanical arrangements and special scenery had arrived and were moved into the theater. Supers had been engaged to attend rehearsal in the 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 up and 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 great assistance to Havener, who wished Merriwell to appoint him assistant stage manager.
Of course, everybody was anxious about the result, but the majority of the company had confidence in Merriwell and his play. Cassie Lee, perhaps, was the only one who was never assailed by a doubt concerning the 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 her words. Afterward he knew what she meant. She still carried a tiny needle syringe and a phial that contained a certain dangerous drug that had so nearly wrought her ruin.
The various members of the company drifted into the theater by the stage entrance, looked over their dressing rooms and the stage and drifted out again. They had been engaged to act, and they did not propose to work when 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 sometimes tripped over his own feet.
Ephraim was arranging a mass of scenery so that every piece would be handy 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 open and a person peer out.
“Gosh!” exclaimed the Vermonter, stepping back out of sight. “Who’s that?”
Again the person peered out of the dressing room, as if to make sure the coast was clear.
“I must be dreamin’!” thought the Vermont youth, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve got ’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 dressing room. “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 out from 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 clutched at her, catching hold of the chain that encircled her neck and suspended her purse.
“I want yeou!” palpitated the Yankee youth. “Yeou’re jest the——”
Flirt!—the woman made a quick motion toward him. Something struck Ephraim in his eyes, burning like fire. He was nearly knocked down by the 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 and disappeared, leaving poor Ephraim bellowing with pain and clawing at his eyes, as if he would dig them out of his head.
“Murder!” he howled. “Oh, I’m dyin’! Somebody come quick! My eyes hev been 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 greatest agony.
Havener and some of the regular theater hands heard his wild cries and came rushing to the spot. They found him on the floor, kicking and thrashing 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 are gone! Ow-yow!”
“What is the matter?” Havener again cried, getting hold of the thrashing youth. “What has happened?”
“Stop her!” roared Ephraim, realizing that some person had come and thinking instantly that the woman must be detained. “Don’t let her git erway!”
“Don’t let who get away?”
“The woman! Ow-wow! Bring a pail of warter an’ let me git my head inter it! 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 is no veiled woman here! Have you lost your senses?”
Then, realizing that they were doing nothing to prevent her from making her 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 red pepper! He is telling the truth! Somebody get some water! Somebody run to 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’t let 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 the doorkeeper told him the veiled woman had gone out.
“Why in the world did you let her in?” angrily demanded the irate stage manager.
“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 was hurt. But it wasn’t my fault.”
“If she tries to come in here again, seize and hold her. I’ll give you five dollars if you hold her till I can reach her! She is a female tiger!”
Then Havener rushed back to see what could be done for Gallup.
Groaning and crying, Gallup was washing the pepper from his eyes, which were fearfully inflamed and swollen. He could not see Havener, but heard his 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 bad as 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 will look bad for some time to come.”
“Here is something he had in his hand,” said one of the supers. “It’s her 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?” he asked, sharply.
The super seemed to feel insulted, and he angrily protested that he would not have touched a cent if there had been five hundred dollars in it.
“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 to be a valuable clew to the woman’s identity.”
Everything possible was done for Ephraim’s eyes, but it was a long time before he was much relieved from the agony he was suffering. Then he was taken to the hotel, with a bandage over his eyes, and a doctor came to attend him.
The physician said he would do everything possible to get Ephraim into shape to play that evening, but he did not give a positive assurance that he would be able to do so. As soon as Frank heard of the misfortune which had befallen the Vermont youth, he hastened to the hotel and to the 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 ur bu’st my galluses tryin’! I ain’t goin’ to knock aout the show ef I kin help it.”
“That was not what I meant. I was sorry because of the pain you must have suffered.”
“Waal, it was ruther tough,” the faithful country lad confessed. “By gum! it was jest as ef somebody’d chucked a hull lot of coals right inter my lookers. It jest knocked me silly, same ez if I’d bin hit with a 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 was meant fer yeou. That woman was in there ter fix yeou so yeou couldn’t play ter-night.”
“It’s quite likely you may be right, Ephraim; but she had to give it to you 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 to leave 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 crumpled and torn telegram. Smoothing this out, he saw it was dated at Castle Rock 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—the man 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 was living.”
“Yeou’ve struck it, Frank!”
“And she was the one who got out the accusing flyers, charging me with the 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 yeou do.”
“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 her husband; don’t it, Frank?”
“He signed ‘P. F.’ Now, I wonder what one of my enemies can be fitted to those initials?”
“I dunno.”
“Nor do I. But this telegram has given me a feeling of relief, for I am glad 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 that I 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 murder being brought against us are about blotted out. Ephraim, I am very sorry you were hurt, but I’m extremely glad you snatched this purse and brought me this telegram. I shall take care of it. I shall use it to trace my enemies, if possible.”
“Waal, I’m glad I done somethin’, though I’d bin a ’tarnal sight gladder if I hed ketched that woman.”
Frank carefully placed the purse and the telegram in his pocket, where he knew it would be safe.
Assuring Ephraim that everything possible should be done for him, he hastened out.
That afternoon the rehearsal took place, with another person reading Ephraim’s part. It was feared that Gallup would not be able to see to play when it came night, but Frank hoped that he could, and the Vermont youth 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 perfectly smooth,” he declared. “I’ve noticed it almost always happens that a good, smooth rehearsal just before a first performance means that the performance will go bad, and vice versa.”
Frank had not been long in the business, but he, also, had observed that it 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 was wearing it up to the last minute, so that he would give them as much rest as possible.
“Somebody’ll hev ter make me up ter-night,” he said. “I don’t believe I kin see well enough ter do that.”
Havener agreed to look after that.
While the various members were putting the finishing touches on their toilet and make-up, word came that people were pouring into the theater in a most satisfactory manner. The orchestra tuned up for the overture.
Frank went round to see that everybody was prepared. He had fallen into that 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 of her left arm, and he saw a tiny instrument in her right hand. He knew in a 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! You told me you’d never use morphine again!”
“Frank!” she whispered, looking abashed. “I know I told you so! I meant it, but I must use it just once more—just to-night. I am not feeling at my best. I’m dull and heavy. You know how much depends on me. If I don’t do well I shall ruin everything. It won’t hurt me to use it just this once. The success of ‘True Blue’ may depend on it!”
“If the success of ‘True Blue’ depended on it beyond the shadow of a doubt, I would not let you use it, Cassie! Great heavens! girl, you are mad! If you fall again into the clutches of that fiend nothing can save you!”
“But the play——”
“Do you think I would win success with my play at the price of your soul! No, Cassie Lee! If I knew it meant failure I would forbid you to use 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 I ask of you is to do your best, Cassie, let it mean success or failure.”