the white moll-第31章
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therefore； that Shluker himself； the proprietor of the junk shop；
was one of the organization。 She was going to Shluker's now。
Rhoda Gray halted suddenly； and stared wonderingly a little way up
the block ahead of her。 As though by magic a crowd was collecting
around the doorway of a poverty…stricken； tumble…down frame house
that made the corner of an alleyway。 And where but an instant
before the street's jostling humanity had been immersed in its
wrangling with the push…cart men who lined the curb； the carts were
now deserted by every one save their owners； whose caution exceeded
their curiosity … and the crowd grew momentarily larger in front of
the house。
She drew Gypsy Nan's black； greasy shawl a little more closely
around her shoulders； and moved forward again。 And now； on the
outskirts of the crowd； she could see quite plainly。 There were
two or three low steps that led up to the doorway； and a man and
woman were standing there。 The woman was wretchedly dressed； but
with most strange incongruity she held in her hand； obviously
subconsciously； obviously quite oblivious of it； a huge basket full
to overflowing with； as nearly as Rhoda Gray could judge； all sorts
of purchases； as though out of the midst of abject poverty a golden
shower had suddenly descended upon her。 And she was gray； and well
beyond middle age； and crying bitterly； and her free hand； whether
to support herself or with the instinctive idea of supporting her
companion； was clutched tightly around the man's shoulders。 And
the man rocked unsteadily upon his feet。 He was tall and angular；
and older than the woman； and cadaverous of feature； and miserably
thin of shoulder； and blood trickled over his forehead and down one
ashen； hollow cheek … and above the excited exclamations of the
crowd Rhoda Gray heard him cough。
Rhoda Gray glanced around her。 Where scarcely a second before she
had been on the outer fringe of the crowd； she now appeared to be
in the very center of it。 Women were pushing up behind her； women
who wore shawls as she did； only the shawls were mostly of gaudy
colors； and men pushed up behind her； mostly men of swarthy
countenance； who wore circlets of gold in their ears； and； brushing
her skirts； seeking vantage points； ragged； ill…clad children
wriggled and wormed their way deeper into the press。 It was a crowd
composed almost entirely of the foreign element which inhabited that
quarter … and the crowd chattered and gesticulated with
ever…increasing violence。 She did not understand。 And she could not
see so well now。 That pitiful tableau in the doorway was being shut
out from her by a man； directly in front of her； who had hoisted a
half…naked tot of three or four to a reserved seat upon his head。
And then a young man； one whom； from her years in the Bad Lands as
the White Moll； she recognized as a hanger…on at a gambling hell in
the Chatham Square district； came toward her； plowing his way；
contemptuous of obstructions； out of the crowd。
Rhoda Gray； as Gypsy Nan； hailed him out of the corner of her mouth。
〃Say； wot's de row？〃 she demanded。
The young man grinned。
〃Somebody pinched a million from de old guy！〃 He shifted his
cigarette with a deft movement of his tongue from one side of his
mouth to the other； and grinned again。 〃Can youse beat it！
Accordin' to him； he had enough coin to annex de whole of Noo Yoik！
De moll's his wife。 He went out to hell…an'…gone somewhere for a
few years huntin' gold while de old girl starved。 Den back he comes
an' blows in to…day wid his pockets full； an' de old girl grabs a
handful； an' goes out to buy up all de grub in sight 'cause she
ain't had none for so long。 An' w'en she comes back she finds de
old geezer gagged an' tied in a chair； an' some guy's hit him a
crack on de bean an' flown de coop wid de mazuma。 But youse had
better get out of here before youse gets run over！ Dis ain't no
place for an old skirt like youse。 De bulls'11 be down here on de
hop in a minute； an' w'en dis mob starts sprinklin' de street wid
deir fleetin' footsteps； youse are likely to get hurt。 See？〃 The
young man started to force his way through the crowd again。 〃Youse
had better cut loose； mother！〃 he warned over his shoulder。
It was good advice。 Rhoda Gray took it。 She had scarcely reached
the next block when the crowd behind her was being scattered
pell…mell and without ceremony in all directions by the police； as
the young man had predicted。 She went on。 There was nothing that
she could do。 The man's face and the woman's face haunted her。
They had seemed stamped with such abject misery and despair。 But
there was nothing that she could do。 It was one of those sore and
grievous cross…sections out of the lives of the swarming thousands
down here in this quarter which she knew so intimately and so well。
And there were so many； many of those cross…sections！ Once； in a
small； pitifully meager and restricted way； she had been able to
help some of these hurt lives； but now … Her lips tightened a
little。 She was going to Shluker's junk shop。
Her forehead gathered in little furrows as she walked along。 She
had weighed the pros and cons of this visit a hundred times already
during the day； but even so； instinctively to reassure herself lest
some apparently minor； but nevertheless fatally vital； point might
have been overlooked； her mind reverted to it again。 From Shluker's
viewpoint； whether Gypsy Nan was in the habit of mingling with or
visiting the other members of the gang or not … a matter upon which
she could not even hazard a guess … her visit to…night must appear
entirely logical。 There was last night … and； a natural corollary；
her equally natural anxiety on her supposed husband's account；
providing； of course； that Shluker was aware that Gypsy Nan was
Danglar's wife。 But even if Shluker did not know that； he knew
at least that Gypsy Nan was one of the gang； and； as such； he must
equally accept it as natural that she should be anxious and disturbed
over what had happened。 She would be on safe ground either way。
She would pretend to know only what had appeared in the papers； in
other words； that the police； attracted to the spot by the sound of
revolver shots； had found Danglar handcuffed to the fire escape of
a well…known thieves' resort in an all too well…known and
questionable locality。
A smile came spontaneously。 It was quite true。 That was where the
Adventurer had left Danglar … handcuffed to the fire escape！ The
smile vanished。 The humor of the situation was not long…lived； it
ended there。 Danglar was as cunning as the proverbial fox； and
Danglar； at that moment； in desperate need of explaining his
predicament in some plausible way to the police； had； as the
expression went； run true to form。 Danglar's story； as reported by
the papers； even rose above his own high…water mark of vicious
cunning； because it played upon a chord that appealed instantly to
the police； and it rang true； not only because what the police
could find out about him made it likely； but also because it
contained a modicum of truth in itself； and； furthermore； Danglar
had scored on still another count in that his story must stimulate
the police into renewed activities as his unsuspecting allies in
the one thing； the one aim and object that； at that moment； must
obsess him above all others … the discovery of herself； the White
Moll。
It was ingeniously simple； Danglar's smooth and oily lie！ He had
been walking along the street； he had stated； when he saw a woman；
as she passed under a street lamp； who he thought resembled the
White Moll。 To make sure； he followed her … at a safe distance；
as he believed。 She entered the tenement。 He hesitated。 He knew
the reputation of the place； which bore out his first impression
that the woman was the one he thought she was； but he did not want
to make a fool of himself by calling in the police until he was
positive of her identity； so he finally followed her inside； and
heard her go upstairs； and crept up after her in the dark。 And
then； suddenly； he was set upon and hustled into a room。 It was
the White Moll； all right； and t
