the white moll-第61部分

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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。

〃I　want　a　gun；　and　a　good　one；　please；〃　she　said；　after　a　glance
around　her　to　assure　herself　that　they　were　alone。

The　other　squinted　at　her　through　his　spectacles；　as　he　shook　his
head。

〃I　haven't　got　any；　lady；〃　he　answered。　　〃We're　not　allowed　to　sell
them　without　…〃

〃Oh；　yes；　you　have；　Daddy；〃　she　contradicted　quietly；　as　she　raised
her　veil。　　〃And　quick；　please；　I'm　in　a　hurry。〃

The　little　old　man　leaned　forward；　staring　at　her　for　a　moment　as
though　fascinated；　and　then　his　hand；　in　a　fumbling　way；　removed
the　skull　cap　from　his　bead。　　There　was　a　curious；　almost　wistful
reverence　in　his　voice　as　he　spoke。

〃The　White　Moll！〃　he　said。

〃Yes；〃　she　smiled。　　〃But　the　gun；　Daddy。　　Quick！　　I　haven't　an
instant　to　lose。〃

〃Yes；　yes！〃　he　said　eagerly　…　and　shuffled　away。

He　was　back　in　a　moment；　an　automatic　in　his　hand。

〃It's　loaded；　of　course？〃　she　said；　as　she　took　the　weapon。　　She
slipped　it　into　her　pocket　as　he　nodded　affirmatively。　　〃How　much；
Daddy？〃

〃The　White　Moll！〃　　He　seemed　still　under　the　spell　of　amazement。
〃It　is　nothing。　　There　is　no　charge。　　It　is　nothing；　of　course。〃

〃Thank　you；　Daddy！〃　she　said　softly　…　and　laid　a　bill　upon　the
counter；　and　stepped　back　to　the　door。　　〃Good…night！〃　she　smiled。

She　heard　him　call　to　her；　but　she　was　already　on　the　street　again；
and　hurrying　along。　　She　felt　better；　somehow；　in　a　mental　way；　for
that　little　encounter　with　the　shady　old　pawnbroker。　　She　was　not
so　much　alone；　perhaps；　as　she　had　thought；　there　were　many；　perhaps；
even　if　they　were　of　the　underworld；　who　had　not　swerved　from　the
loyalty　they　had　once　professed　to　the　White　Moll。

It　brought　a　new　train　of　thought；　and　she　paused　suddenly　in　her
walk。　　She　might　rally　around　her　some　of　those　underworld　intimates
upon　whose　allegiance　she　felt　she　could　depend；　and　use　them　now；
to…night；　in　behalf　of　the　Adventurer；　she　would　be　sure　then　to　be
a　match　for　Danglar；　no　matter　what　turn　affairs　took。　　And　then；
with　an　impatient　shake　of　her　head；　she　hurried　on　again。　　There
was　no　time　for　that。　　It　would　take　a　great　deal　of　time　to　find
and　pick　her　men；　she　had　even　wasted　time　herself；　where　there　was
no　time　to　spare；　in　the　momentary　pause　during　which　she　had　given
the　thought　consideration。

She　reached　the　nearest　subway　station；　which　was　her　objective；
and　boarded　a　Harlem　train；　satisfied　that　her　heavy　veil　would
protect　her　against　recognition。　　Unobtrusively　she　took　a　window
seat。　　No　one　paid　her　any　attention。　　Hours　passed；　it　seemed　to
her　impatience；　while　the　black　walls　rushed　by；　punctuated　by
occasional　scintillating　signal　lights；　and；　at　longer　intervals；
by　the　fuller　glare　from　the　station　platforms。

In　the　neighborhood　of　125th　street　she　left　the　train；　and；
entering　the　first　drug　store　she　found；　consulted　a　directory。
She　did　not　know　this　section　of　New　York　at　all；　she　did　not　know
either　the　location　or　the　firm　name　of　the　iron　plant　to　which
Danglar；　assuming　naturally；　of　course；　that　she　was　conversant
with　it；　h