Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1897-12-25

the end of three awful weeks Hartley,
physically safe, could cross his bedroom.
Only it terrified her to realize that he
was but living automaton. Six weeks,
and the mysterious stupor showed no
signs Of lifting And when he crept
down stairs again it was only to sit
staring vacantly through the hours.
And Christmas was close at hand-dear.
joyous Christmas
It's most strange, said the doctor
one day I've been thinking-what
mild excitement would be likely to rouse
hlmt"
''Oh the theater-the play" she an.
-wered mechanically
Then take him Here. There's
matinee advertised for tomorrow at the
Jollity-some new and wonderful drama
to be tried, The very thing"
Gilbert, never seeming &c wonder
where the money came from, assented,
and accordingly that next day, Christ,
mas eve, found them both seated in the
Jollity If this failed
The play commenced, but Marion her
self had not come to be thrilled. Hold
ing her husbands S hand tightly, she sat
stealthily watching for sign of dawn
ing comprehension. In vain. During the
irst and second acts his expression re-
manned all but ifeless. Suddenly, how.
ever Marion almost cried out His thin
fingers had been quivering Now, half
way through the last act. they closed
upon her own crushingly The lights
We're low, but she could see his eyes di
lating Only TOO thankful that every
one appeared engrossed by the play she
whlsper,ngly implored
Try. try and keep calm Tear: It's
nearly over -
My plot-my playr' he said You
you have let them steal my brainsl"
For the moment she was stupefied.
Then Nonsense. dear she whispered
back 1t is safe -
My very words, he gasped, not
needing Let me go I've been rob,
bed robbed IN shout it all over the
city,
Then, indeed she stared and tried to
realize the play but he was struggling
past There would be scene So, hold
ing his hand still she followed him out
into the corridor Before she could pre-
vent it he had gripped an attendants
shoulder
Your managerial once - he breath
cd. Your managerr' he repeated as d
swell of applause drowned the mans
reply
THE manager, In that box over
there What name shall say?"
Gilbert Hartley-the anthor of this
play'"
They followed him round winding
corridors and up to the door Of a box
Two gentlemen We're just emerging
laughingly when the white faced man
and whittier faced woman barred theiI
way.
Not yeti demand " said Gilbert
pointing, "the identity of the man who
writes himself the author of that play
Why" said one coolly. Il happen
t." be the anthor Anything amiss?"
"Yon" Hartley. looking like one
just risen from the grave, put out two
working hands Come here! Look me
in the face wrote it-almost as it
stands If my manuscript is gone. you
have stolen it. -
The finale was at hand The audi.
ence, little dreaming of that side drama,
sat spellbound. Then-then a crazy.
unmistakable cheering rose to the roof
"Authorl Authorp' went up The
situation was critical, the manager stu,
pefed
The "author. with Marion's wide
pleading eyes upon him. hesitated
Then he blurted out:
''No fraud at ALI bought that man.
uscript in crude state from a man wi
claimed to have produced it. There is
nothing discreditable"
His name?'
> Il cannot give it, He was here
just now Prove that he stole it, and
am willing to divide alp
The cries for Author" We're growing
deafening, when Marion gave that little
scream of realization and said:
''He was here-Gilbert, look-Main,
waringl He came for his money that
day! He stole the papers for spite.
thinking you might never knowl Deny
that name if you canp' she finished
breathlessly, staring into the other
mans eyes
Madam. can't" Swallowing a
lump, he eripped Hartley's hand. Sir,
my reputation is at stake. must ap.
pear with you as joint author. but l
promise you two-thirds Of all royalties
The audience was upon its feet, sta1
ing about in wonderment when the cur