the white moll-第16章

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a　prayer　of　gratitude　that　he　could　not　see　her。　　Her　face；　in　spite
of　Gipsy　Nan's　disguising　grime；　must　be　white；　white　as　death
itself。　　It　seemed　to　plumb　some　infamous　depth　from　which　her　soul
recoiled；　this　apology　of　his　for　his　neglect　of　her。　　And　then　her
hands　at　her　sides　curled　into　tight…clenched　little　fists　as　she
strove　to　control　herself。　　His　words；　at　least；　supplied　her　with
her　cue。

〃Of　course！〃　she　said　tartly；　but　in　perfect　English　…　the　vernacular
of　Gypsy　Nan　was　not　for　Danglar；　for　she　remembered　only　too　well
how　once　before　it　had　nearly　tripped　her　up。　　〃But　you　didn't　come
here　to　apologize！　　What　is　it　you　want？〃

〃Ah；　I　say；　Bertha！〃　he　said　appeasingly。　　〃Cut　that　out！　　I　couldn't
help　being　away；　I　tell　you。　　Of　course；　I　didn't　come　here　to
apologize　…　I　thought　you'd　understand　well　enough　without　that。
The　gang's　out　of　cash；　and　I　came　to　tap　the　reserves。　　Let　me　have
a　package　of　the　long　green；　Bertha。〃

It　was　a　moment　before　she　spoke。　　Her　woman's　instinct　prompted
her　to　let　down　the　bars　between　them　in　no　single　degree；　that　her
protection　lay　in　playing　up　to　the　full　what　Danglar；　jumping　at
conclusions；　had　assumed　was　a　grouch　at　his　neglect。　　Also；　her
mind　worked　quickly。　　Her　own　clothes　were　no　longer　in　the　secret
hiding　place　here　in　the　garret；　they　were　out　there　in　that　old
shed　in　the　lane。　　It　was　perfectly　safe；　then；　to　let　Danglar　go
to　the　hiding　place　himself；　assuming　that　he　knew　where　it　was
…　which；　almost　of　necessity；　he　must。

〃Oh！〃　she　said　ungraciously。　　〃Well；　you　know　where　it　is；　don't
you？　　Suppose　you　go　and　get　it　yourself！〃

〃All　right！〃　returned　Danglar；　a　sullenness　creeping　into　his　voice。
〃Have　it　your　own　way；　Bertha！　　I　haven't　got　time　to…night　to　coax
you　out　of　your　tantrums。　　That's　what　you　want；　but　I　haven't　got
time　…　to…night。〃

She　did　not　answer。

A　match　crackled　in　Danglar's　hand；　the　flames　spurted　up　through
the　darkness。　　Danglar　made　his　way　over　to　the　rickety　washstand；
found　the　candle　that　was　stuck　in　the　neck　of　the　gin　bottle；
lighted　it；　held　the　candle　above　his　head；　and　stared　around
the　garret。

〃Why　the　devil　don't　you　get　another　lamp？〃　he　grumbled　…　and
started　toward　the　rear　of　the　garret。

Rhoda　Gray　watched　him　silently。　　She　did　not　care　to　explain　that
she　had　not　replaced　the　lamp　for　the　very　simple　reason　that　it
gave　far　too　much　light　here　in　the　garret　to　be　safe　…　for　her！
She　watched　him；　with　her　hand　in　the　pocket　of　her　greasy　skirt
clutched　around　another　legacy　of　Gypsy　Nan　…　her　revolver。　　And
now　she　became　conscious　that　from　the　moment　she　had　entered　the
garret；　her　fingers；　hidden　in　that　pocket；　had　sought　and　clung
to　the　weapon。　　The　man　filled　her　with　detestation　and　fear；　and
somehow　she　feared　him　more　now　in　what　he　was　trying　to　make　an
ingratiating　mood；　than　she　had　feared　him　in　the　full　flood　of
his　rage　and　anger　that　other　night　at　Shluker's　place。

She　drew　back　a　little　toward　the　cot　bed　against　the　wall；　drew
back　to　give　him　free　passage　to　the　door　when　he　should　return
again；　her　eyes　still　holding　on　the　far　end　of　the　garret；　where；
with　the　slope　of　the　roof；　the　ceiling　was　no　more　than　shoulder
high。　　There　seemed　something　horribly　weird　and　grotesque　in　the
scene　before　her。　　He　had　pushed　the　narrow　trap…door　in　the　ceiling
upward；　and　had　thrust　candle　and　head　through　the　opening；　and　the
faint　yellow　light；　seeping　back　and　downward　in　flickering；
uncertain　rays；　suggested　the　impression　of　a　gruesome；　headless
figure　standing　there　hazily　outlined　in　the　surrounding　murk。　　It
chilled　her；　she　clutched　at　her　shawl；　drew　it　more　closely　about
her；　and　edged　still　nearer　to　the　wall。

And　then　Danglar　closed　the　trap…door　again；　and　came　back　with　the
candle　in　one　hand；　and　one　of　the　bulky　packages　of　banknotes　from
the　hiding　place　in　the　other。　　He　set　the　candle　down　on　the
washstand；　and　began　to　distribute　the　money　through　his　various
pockets。

He　was　smiling　with　curious　complacency。

〃It　was　your　job　to　play　the　spider　to　the　White　Moll　if　she　ever
showed　up　again　here　in　your　parlor；〃　he　said。　　〃Maybe　somebody
tipped　her　off　to　keep　away；　maybe　she　was　too　wily；　but；　anyway；
since　you　have　not　sent　out　any　word；　it　is　evident　that　our　little
plans　along　that　line　didn't　work；　since　she　has　failed　to　come　back
to　pay　a　call　of　gratitude　to　you。　　I　don't　suppose　there's　anything
to　add　to　that；　eh；　Bertha？　　No　report　to　make？〃

〃No；〃　said　Rhoda　Gray　shortly。　　〃I　haven't　any　report　to　make。〃

〃Well；　no　matter！〃　said　Danglar。　　He　laughed　out　shortly。　　〃There
are　other　ways！　　She's　had　her　fling　at　our　expense；　it's　her　turn
to　pay　now。〃　　He　laughed　again　…　and　in　the　laugh　now　there　was
something　both　brutal　in　its　menace；　and　sinister　in　its　suggestion
of　gloating　triumph。

〃What　do　you　mean？〃　demanded　Rhoda　Gray　quickly。　　〃What　are　you
going　to　do？〃

〃Get　her！〃　said　Danglar。　　The　man's　passion　flamed　up　suddenly；　he
spoke　through　his　closed　teeth。　　〃Get　her！　　I　made　her　a　little
promise。　　I'm　going　to　keep　it！　　Understand？〃

〃You've　been　saying　that　for　quite　a　long　time；〃　retorted　Rhoda
Gray　coolly。　　〃But　the　'getting'　has　been　all　the　other　way　so　far。
How　are　you　going　to　get　her？〃

Danglar's　little　black　eyes　narrowed；　and　he　thrust　his　head　forward
and　out　from　his　shoulders　savagely。　　In　the　flickering　candle
light；　with　contorted　face　and　snarling　lips；　he　looked　again　the
beast　to　which　she　had　once　likened　him。

〃Never　mind　how　I'm　going　to　get　her！〃　he　flung　out；　with　an　oath。
〃I　told　you　I'd　been　busy。　　That's　enough！　　You'll　see

Rhoda　Gray；　in　the　semi…darkness；　shrugged　her　shoulders。　　Was　the
man；　prompted　by　rage　and　fury；　simply　making　wild　threats；　or　had
he　at　last　some　definite　and　perhaps　infallible　plan　that　he
purposed　putting　into　operation？　　She　did　not　know；　and；　much　as　it
meant　to　her；　she　did　not　dare　take　the　risk　of　arousing　suspicion
by　pressing　the　question。　　Failing；　then；　to　obtain　any　intimation
of　what　he　meant　to　do；　the　next　thing　most　to　be　desired　was　to
get　rid　of　him。

〃You've　got　the　money。　　That's　what　you　came　for；　wasn't　it？〃　she
suggested　coldly。

He　stared　at　her　for　a　moment；　and　then　his　face　gradually　lost　its
scowl。

〃You're　a　rare　one；　Bertha！〃　he　exclaimed　admiringly。　　〃Yes；　I've
got　the　money　…　and　I'm　going。　　In　fact；　I'm　in　a　hurry；　so　don't
worry！　　You　got　the　dope；　like　everybody　else；　for　to…night；　didn't
you？　　It　was　sent　out　two　hours　ago。〃

The　dope！　　It　puzzled　her　for　the　fraction　of　a　second　…　and　then
she　remembered　the　paper　she　had　thrust　into　the　bodice　of　her
dress。　　She　had　not　read　it。　　She　lunged　a　little　in　the　dark。

〃Yes；〃　she　said　curtly。

〃All　right！〃　he　said…and　moved　toward　the　door。　　〃That　explains　why
I'm　in　a　hurry　…　and　why　I　can't　stop　to　oil　that　grouch　out　of　you。
But　I'll　keep　my　promise　to　you；　too；　old　girl。　　I'll　make　up　the
last　few　days　to　you。　　Have　a　heart；　eh；　Bertha！　　'Night！〃

She　did　not　answer　him。　　It　seemed　as　though　an　unutterable　dread
had　suddenly　been　lifted　from　her；　as　he　passed　out　of　the　door
and　began　to　descend　the　steps　to　the　hall　below。　　Her　〃grouch；〃
he　had　called　it。　　Well；　it　had　served　its　purpose！　　It　was　just
as　well　that　he　should　think　so！　　She　followed　to　the　door；　and
deliberately　slammed　it　with　a　bang。　　And　from　below；　his　laugh；
more　an　amused　chuckle；　echoed　back　and　answered　her。

And　then；　for　a　long　time　she　stood　there　by　the　door；　a　little
weak　with　the　revulsion　of　relief　upon　her；　her　hands　pressed　hard
against　her　temples；　staring　unseeingly　about　the　garret。　　He　was
gone。　　He　filled　her　with　terror。　　Every　instinct　she　possessed；
every　fiber　of　her　being　revolted　against　him。　　He　was　gone。　　Yes；
he　was　gone　…　for　the　time　being。　　But　…　but　what　was　the　end　of
all　this　to　be？〃

She　shook　her　head　after　a　moment；　shook　it　helplessly　and　wearily；
as；　finally；　she　walked　over　to　the　washstand；　took　the　piece　of
paper　from　the　bodice　of　her　dress；　and　spread　it　out　under　the
candle　light。　　A　glance　showed　her　that　it　was　in　cipher。　　There
was　the　stub　of　a　pencil；　she　remembered；　in　the　washstand　drawer；
and；　armed　with　this；　and　a　piece　of　wrapping　paper　that　had　once
enveloped　one　of　Gypsy　Nan's　gin　bottles；　she　took　up　the　candle；
crossed　the　garret；　and　sat　down　on　the　edge　of　the　cot；　placing
the　candle　on　the　chair　in　front　of　her。

If　the　last　three　days　had　been　productive　of　nothing　else；　they
had　at　least　furnished　her　with　the　opportunity　of　studying　the
notebook　she　had　found　in　the　secret　hiding　place；　and　of　making
herself　conversant　with　the　gang's　cipher；　and　she　now　set　to
work　upon　it。　　It　was　a　numerical　cipher。　　Each　letter　of　the
alphabet　in　regular　rotation　was　represented　by　its　corresponding
numeral；　a　zero　was　employed　to　set　off　one　letter　from　another；
and　the　addition　of　the　numerals　between　the　zeros　indicated　the
number　of　the　letter　involved。　　Also；　there　being　but　twenty…six
letters　in　the　alphabet；　it　was　obvious　that　the　addition　of　three
nines；　which　was　twenty…seven；　could　not　represent　any　letter；　and
the　combination　of　999　was　therefore　used　to　precede　any　of　the
arbitrary　groups　of　numerals　which　were　employed　to　express　phrases
and　sentences；　such　as　the　739　that　she　had　found　scrawled　on　the
piece　of　paper　around　her　key　on　the　first　night　she　had　come　here；
and　which；　had　it　been　embodied　in　a　message　and　not　preceded　by
the　999；　would　have　meant　simply　the　addition　of　seven；　three　and
nine；　that　is；　nineteen　…　and　therefore　would　indicate　the
nineteenth　letter　of　the　alphabet；　S。

Rhoda　Gray　copied　the　first　line　of　the　message　on　the　piece　of
wrapping　paper：

　　　321010333203202306663103330111102210444202101112052110761


Adding　the　numerals　between　the　zeros；　and　giving　to　each　its
corresponding　letter；　she　set　down　the　result：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　6010110505022090405014030509014
　　　　　　　　　　　　　f　a　　k　e　e　　v　i　d　e　　n　c　e　i　　n

It　was　then　but　a　matter　of　grouping　the　letters　into　words；　and；
decoded；　the　first　line　read：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　Fake　evidence　in。。。。。。　　　　　

She　worked　steadily　on。　　It　was　a　lengthy　message；　and　it　took　her
a　long　time。　　It　was　an　hour；　perhaps　more；　after　Danglar　had　gone；
before　she　had　completed　her　task；　and　then；　after　that；　she　sat
for　still　a　long　time　staring；　not　at　the　paper　on　the　chair　before
her；　but　at　the　flickering　shadows　thrown　by　the　candle　on　the
opposite　wall。

Queer　and　strange　were　the　undercurrents　and　the　cross…sections　of
life　that　were　to　be　found；　amazingly　contradictory；　amazingly
incomprehensible；　once　one　scratched　beneath　the　surface　of　the
poverty　and　the　squalor；　and；　yes；　the　crime；　amongst　the　hiving
thousands　of　New　York's　East　Side！　　In　the　days　…　not　so　very　long
ago　…　when；　as　the　White　Moll；　she　had　worked　amongst　these　classes；
she　had　on　one　occasion；　when　he　was　sick；　even　kept　old　Viner　in
food。　　She　had　not；　at　the　time；　failed　to　realize　that　the　man
was　grasping；　rapacious；　even　unthankful；　but　she　had　little　dreamed
that　he　was　a　miser　worth　fifty　thousand　dollars！

Her　mind　swerved　off　suddenly　a