the white moll-第53章

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around　but　the　watchman；　and　he's　an　old　friend　of　Shluker's；　and
it's　so　roomy　over　there　that　no　one　could　expect　him　to　be
everywhere　at　once。　　See？　　That　let's　him　out。　　He's　been　well
greased；　and　he　won't　know　anything。　　Don't　you　worry；　old　girl！
That's　what　I　came　here　for　…　to　tell　you　that　everything　is　all
right；　after　all。　　The　Pug　will　talk。　　Maybe　he　wouldn't　if　he　just
had　his　choice　between　that　and　the　quick；　painless　end　that　a
bullet　would　bring；　but　there　are　some　things　that　a　man　can't
stand。　　Get　me？　　We'll　try　a　few　of　those　on　the　Pug；　and；　believe
me；　before　we're　through；　there　won't　be　any　secrets　wrapped　up　in
his　bosom。〃

Rhoda　Gray　stood　motionless。　　Thank　God　it　had　grown　dark　…　dark
enough　to　hide　the　whiteness　that　she　knew　had　crept　over　her　face；
and　the　horror　that　had　crept　into　her　eyes。　　〃You　mean〃　…　her　voice
was　very　low　…　〃you　mean　you're　going　to　torture　him　into　talking？〃

〃Sure！〃　said　Danglar。　　〃What　do　you　think！〃

〃And　after　that？〃

〃We　bump　him　off；　of　course；〃　said　Danglar　callously。　　〃He　knows
all　about　us；　don't　he？　　And　I　guess　we'll　square　up　on　what's
coming　to　him！　　He's　put　the　crimp　into　us　for　the　last　time！〃
Danglar's　voice　pitched　suddenly　hoarse　in　fury。　　〃That's　a　hell
of　a　question　to　ask！　　What　do　you　think　we'd　do　with　a　yellow
cur　that's　double…crossed　us　like　that？〃

Plead　for　the　Adventurer's　life？　　It　was　useless；　it　was　worse　than
useless　…　it　would　only　arouse　suspicion　toward　herself。　　From　the
standpoint　of　any　one　of　the　gang；　the　Adventurer's　life　was　forfeit。
Her　mind　was　swift；　cruelly　swift；　in　its　workings　now。　　There　came
the　prompting　to　disclose　her　own　identity　to　tell　Danglar　that　he
need　not　go　to　the　Adventurer　to　discover　the　whereabouts　of　the
White　Moll；　that　she　was　here　now　before　him；　there　came　the
prompting　to　offer　herself　in　lieu　of　the　man　she　loved。　　But　that；
too；　was　useless；　and　worse　than　useless；　they　would　still　do　away
with　the　Adventurer　because　he　had　been　the　Pug；　and　the　only　chance
he　now　had；　as　represented　by　whatever　she　might　be　able　to　do；
would　be　gone；　since　she　would　but　have　delivered　herself　into
their　hands。

She　drew　back　suddenly。　　Danglar　had　stepped　toward　her。　　She　was
unable　to　avoid　him；　and　his　arm　encircled　her　waist。　　She　shivered
as　the　pressure　of　his　arm　tightened。

〃It's　all　right；　old　girl！〃　he　said　exuberantly。　　〃You've　been
through　hell；　you　have；　but　it's　all　right　at　last。　　You　leave　it
to　me！　　Your　husband's　got　a　kiss　to　make　up　for　every　drop　of　that
grease　you've　had　to　put　on　the　prettiest　face　in　New　York。〃

It　seemed　as　though　she　must　scream　out。　　It　was　hideous。　　She　could
not　force　herself　to　endure　it　another　instant　even　for　safety's　safe。
She　pushed　him　away。　　It　was　unbearable　…　at　any　risk；　cost　what　it
might。　　Mind；　soul　and　body　recoiled　from　the　embrace。

〃Leave　me　alone！〃　she　panted。　　〃You've　been　drinking。　　Leave　me　alone！〃

He　drew　back；　and　laughed。

〃Not　very　much；〃　he　said。　　〃The　celebration　hasn't　started　yet；　and
you'll　be　in　on　that。　　I　guess　your　nerves　have　been　getting　shaky
lately；　haven't　they？　　Well；　you　can　figure　on　the　swellest
rest…cure　you　ever　heard　of；　Bertha。　　Take　it　from　me！　　We're　going
down　to　keep　the　Pug　company　presently。　　You　blow　around　to　Matty's
about　midnight　and　get　the　election　returns。　　We'll　finish　the　job
after　that　by　getting　Cloran　out　of　the　road　some　way　before　morning；
and　that　will　let　you　out　for　keeps　…　there　won't　be　any　one　left　to
recognize　the　woman　who　was　with　Deemer　the　night　he　shuffled　out。〃
He　backed　to　the　doorway。　　〃Get　me？　　Come　over　to　Matty's　and　see　the
rajah's　sparklers　about　midnight。　　We'll　have　'em　then　…　and　the
she…fiend；　too。　　So　long；　Bertha！〃

She　scarcely　heard　him；　she　answered　mechanically。

〃Good…night；〃　she　said。


XIX。　　DREAD　UPON　THE　WATERS

For　a　moment　after　Danglar　had　gone；　Rhoda　Gray　stood　motionless；
and　then；　the　necessity　for　instant　action　upon　her；　she　moved
quickly　toward　the　doorway　herself。　　There　was　only　one　thing　she
could　do；　just　one；　but　she　must　be　sure　first　that　Danglar　was
well　started　on　his　way。　　She　reached　the　doorway；　looked　out　…　and
suddenly　caught　her　breath　in　a　low；　quick　inhalation；　In　the
semi…darkness　she　could　just　make　out　Danglar's　form；　perhaps
twenty…five　yards　away　now；　heading　along　the　lane　toward　the
street；　but　behind　Danglar；　at　a　well…guarded　distance　in　the　rear；
hugging　the　shadows　of　the　fence；　she　saw　the　form　of　another　man。
Her　brows　knitted　in　a　perplexed　and　anxious　frown。　　The　second　man
was　undoubtedly　following　Danglar。　　That　was　evident。　　But　why？
Who　was　it？　　What　did　it　mean？

She　retreated　back　into　the　shed；　and　commenced　hastily　to　disrobe
and　dress　again　in　her　own　clothes；　which　she　had　flung　down　upon
the　floor。　　In　the　last　analysis；　did　it　matter　who　it　was　that　was
following　Danglar　…　even　if　it　were　one　of　the　police？　　For；
supposing　that　the　man　who　was　shadowing　Danglar　was　a　plain…clothes
man；　and　suppose　he　even　followed　Danglar　and　the　rest　of　the　gang
to　the　old　iron　plant；　and　suppose　that　with　the　necessary　assistance
he　rounded　them　all　up；　and　in　that　sense　effected　the　Adventurer's
rescue；　it　scarcely　meant　a　better　fate　for　the　Adventurer！　　It
simply　meant　that　the　Adventurer；　as　one　of　the　gang；　and　against
whom　every　one　of　the　rest　would　testify　as　the　sole　means　left　to
them　of　wreaking　their　vengeance　upon　one　who　had　tricked　and
outwitted　them　again　and　again　for　his　own　ends；　would　stand　his
trial　with　the　others；　and　with　the　others　go　behind　prison　bars　for
a　long　term　of　years。

She　hurried　now；　completing　the　last　touches　that　transformed　her
from　Gypsy　Nan　into　the　veiled　figure　of　the　White　Moll；　stepped
out　into　the　lane；　and　walking　rapidly；　reached　the　street　and
headed；　not　in　the　direction　of　Harlem；　but　deeper　over　into　the
East　Side。　　Even　as　Danglar　had　been　speaking　she　had　realized　that；
for　the　Adventurer's　own　sake；　and　irrespective　of　what　any
premature　disclosure　of　her　own　identity　to　the　authorities　might
mean　to　her；　she　could　not　call　upon　the　police　for　aid。　　There
was　only　one　way；　just　one　…　to　go　herself；　to　reach　the　Adventurer
herself　before　Danglar　returned　there　and　had　an　opportunity　of
putting　his　worse　than　murderous　intentions　into　effect。

Well；　she　was　going　there；　wasn't　she？　　And　if　she　lost　no　time　she
should　be　there　easily　ahead　of　them；　and　her　chances　would　be
excellent　of　releasing　the　Adventurer　with　very　little　risk。　　From
what　Danglar　had　said；　the　Adventurer　was　there　alone。　　Once　tied
and　gagged　there　had　been　no　need　to　leave　anybody　to　guard　him；
save　that　the　watchman　would　ordinarily　serve　to　keep　any　one　off
the　premises；　which　was　all　that　was　necessary。　　But　that　he　had
been　left　at　all　worried　her　greatly。　　He　had；　of　course；　already
refused　to　talk。　　What　they　had　done　to　him　she　did　not　know；　but
the　'solitary　confinement'　Danglar　had　referred　to　was　undoubtedly
the　first　step　in　their　efforts　to　break　his　spirit。　　Her　lips
tightened　as　she　went　along。　　Surely　she　could　accomplish　it！　　She
had　but　to　evade　the　watchman　…　only；　first；　the　lost　revolver；
the　one　safeguard　against　an　adverse　turn　of　fortune；　must　be
replaced；　and　that　was　where　she　was　going　now。　　She　knew；　from　her
associations　with　the　underworld　as　the　White　Moll　in　the　old　days；
where　such　things　could　be　purchased　and　no　questions　asked；　if　one
were　known。　　And　she　was　known　in　the　establishment　to　which　she
was　going；　for　evil　days　had　once　fallen　upon　its　proprietor；　one
〃Daddy〃　Jacques；　in　that　he　had　incurred　the　enmity　of　certain　of
his　own　ilk　in　the　underworld；　and　on　a　certain　night；　which　he
would　not　be　likely　to　forget；　she　had　stood　between　him　and　a
manhandling　that　would　probably　have　cost　him　his　life；　and　…　Yes；
this　was　the　place。

She　entered　a　dirty…windowed；　small　and　musty　pawnshop。　　A　little
old　man；　almost　dwarf…like　in　stature；　with　an　unkempt；　tawny　beard；
who　wore　a　greasy　and　ill…fitting　suit；　and　upon　whose　bald　head
was　perched　an　equally　greasy　skull　cap；　gazed　at　her　inquiringly
from　behind　the　counter。