the white moll-第6章

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brutally　keen；　brutally　virile。　　What　was　there　for　her　to　say？
She　was　caught　here　at　one　o'clock　in　the　morning　after　breaking
into　the　place；　caught　red…handed　in　the　very　act　of　taking　the
money。　　What　story　could　she　tell　that　would　clear　her　of　that！
That　she　had　taken　it　so　that　it　wouldn't　be　stolen；　and　that　she
was　going　to　give　it　back　in　the　morning？　　Was　there　anybody　in　the
world　credulous　enough　to　believe　anything　like　that！　　Tell　Gypsy
Nan's　story；　all　that　had　happened　to…night？　　Yes；　she　might　have
told　that　to…morrow；　after　she　had　returned　the　money；　and　been
believed。　　But　now…no！　　It　would　even　make　her　appear　in　a　still
worse　light。　　They　would　credit　her　with　being　a　member　of　this
very　gang　to　which　Gypsy　Nan　belonged；　one　in　the　secrets　of　an
organized　band　of　criminals；　who　was　trying　to　clear　her　own　skirts
at　the　expense　of　her　confederates。　　Everything；　every　act　of　hers
to…night；　pointed　to　that　construction　being　placed　upon　her　story；
pointed　to　duplicity。　　Why　had　she　hidden　the　identity　of　Gypsy　Nan？
Why　had　she　not　told　the　police　that　a　crime　was　to　be　committed；
and　left　it　to　the　police　to　frustrate　it？　　It　would　fit　in　with　the
story；　of　course　…　but　the　story　was　the　result　of　having　been
caught　in　the　act　of　stealing　twenty　thousand　dollars　in　cash！　　What
was　there　to　say　…　and；　above　all；　to　this　man；　whose　reputation
for　callous　brutality　in　the　handling　of　those　who　fell　into　his
hands　had　earned　him　the　sobriquet　of　〃Rough〃　Rorke？　　Sick　at　heart；
desperate；　but　with　her　hands　clenched　now；　she　stood　there；　while
the　man　felt　unceremoniously　over　her　clothing　for　a　concealed
weapon。

Finding　none；　he　stooped；　picked　up　the　flashlight；　tested　it；　and
found　it　broken　from　its　fall。

〃Too　bad　you　bust　this；　we'll　have　to　go　out　in　the　dark　after　I
switch　off　the　light；〃　he　said　with　unpleasant　facetiousness。　　〃I
didn't　have　one　with　me；　or　time　to　get　one；　when　I　got　tipped　off
there　was　something　doing　here　to…night。〃　　He　caught　her　ungently
by　the　arm。　　〃Well；　come　along；　my　pretty　lady！　　This'll　make　a
stir；　this　will！　　The　White　Moll！〃　　He　led　her　to　the　electric…light
switch；　turned　off　the　light；　and；　with　his　grasp　tight　upon　her；
made　for　the　front　door。　　He　chuckled　in　a　sinister　manner。　　〃Say；
you're　a　prize；　you　are！　　And　pretty　clever；　too；　aren't　you？　　I
wasn't　looking　for　a　woman　to　pull　this。　　The　White　Moll！　　Some
saint！〃

Rhoda　Gray　shivered。　　Disgrace；　ruin；　stared　her　in　the　face。　　A
sea　of　faces　in　a　courtroom；　morbid　faces；　hideous　faces；　leered　at
her。　　Gray　walls　rose　before　her；　walls　that　shut　out　sunshine　and
hope；　pitiless；　cold　things　that　seemed　to　freeze　the　blood　in　her
veins。　　And　to…night；　in　just　a　few　minutes　more　…　a　cell！

From　the　street　outside　came　the　sound　of　some　one　making　a　cheery；
but　evidently　a　somewhat　inebriated；　attempt　to　whistle　some　ragtime
air。　　It　seemed　to　enhance　her　misery；　to　enhance　by　contrast　in　its
care…free　cheeriness　the　despair　and　misery　that　were　eating　into
her　soul。　　Her　hands　clenched　and　unclenched。　　If　there　were　only　a
chance　…　somewhere　…　somehow！　　If　only　she　were　not　a　woman！　　If　she
could　only　fight　this　hulking　form　that　gripped　so　brutally　at　her
arm！

Rough　Rorke　opened　the　door；　and　pulled　her　out　to　the　street。　　She
shrank　back　instinctively。　　It　was　quite　light　here　from　a　nearby
street　lamp；　and　the　owner　of　the　whistle；　a　young　man；　fashionably
dressed；　decidedly　unsteady　on　his　legs；　and　just　opposite　the　door
as　they　came　out；　had　stopped　both　his　whistle　and　his　progress
along　the　street　to　stare　at　them　owlishly。

〃'Ullo！〃　said　the　young　man　thickly。　　〃What'sh　all　this　about　…　eh？
What'sh　you　two　doing　in　that　place　this　time　of　night　…　eh？〃

〃Beat　it！〃　ordered　Rough　Rorke　curtly。

〃That'sh　all　right。〃　The　young　man　came　nearer。　　He　balanced　himself
with　difficulty；　but　upon　him　there　appeared　to　have　descended
suddenly　a　vast　dignity。　　〃I'm　…　hic　…　law　…　'biding　citizen。　　Gotta
know。　　Gotta　show　me。　　Damn　funny　…　coming　out　of　there　this　time
of　night！　　Eh　…　what'sh　the　idea？〃

Rough　Rorke；　with　his　free　hand；　grabbed　the　young　man　by　the
shoulder　angrily。

〃Mind　your　own　business；　or　you'll　get　into　trouble！〃　he　rasped　out。
〃I'm　an　officer；　and　this　woman　is　under　arrest。　　Beat　it！　　D'ye
hear？　　Beat　it　…　or　I'll　run　you　in；　too！〃

〃Is　that'sh　so！〃　The　young　man's　tones　expressed　a　fuddled　defiance。
He　rocked　on　his　feet　and　stared　from　one　to　the　other。　　〃Shay；　is
that'sh　so！　　You　will　…　eh？　　Gotta　show　me。　　How　do　I　know　you're
…　hic　…　officer？　　Eh？　　More　likely　damned　thief　yourself！　　I　…〃

The　young　man　lurched　suddenly　and　violently　forward；　breaking　Rough
Rorke's　grip　on　Rhoda　Gray　…　and；　as　his　arms　swept　out　to　grasp　at
the　detective　in　an　apparently　wild　effort　to　preserve　his　balance；
Rhoda　Gray　felt　a　quick；　significant　push　upon　her　shoulder。

For　the　space　of　time　it　takes　a　watch　to　tick　she　stood　startled
and　amazed；　and　then；　like　a　flash；　she　was　speeding　down　the　street。
A　roar　of　rage；　a　burst　of　unbridled　profanity　went　up　from　Rough
Rorke　behind　her；　it　was　mingled　with　equally　angry　vituperation　in
the　young　man's　voice。　　She　looked　behind　her。　　The　two　men　were
swaying　around　crazily　in　each　other's　arms。　　She　ran　on　…　faster
than　she　had　ever　run　in　her　life。　　The　corner　was　not　far　ahead。
Her　brain　was　working　with　lightning　speed。　　Gypsy　Nan's　house　was
just　around　the　corner。　　If　she　could　get　out　of　sight　…　hide　…　it
would。。。

She　glanced　behind　her　again；　as　her　ears　caught　the　pound　of　racing
feet。　　The　young　man　was　sitting　in　the　middle　of　the　sidewalk；
shaking　his　fist；　Rough　Rorke；　perhaps　a　bare　fifty　yards　away；　was
chasing　her　at　top　speed。

Her　face　set　hard。　　She　could　not　out…run　a　man！　　There　was　only
one　hope　for　her　…　just　one　…　to　gain　Gypsy　Nan's　doorway　before
Rorke　got　around　the　corner。

A　yard　…　another　…　still　another！　　She　swerved　around　the　corner。
And；　as　she　turned；　she　caught　a　glimpse　of　the　detective。　　The　man
was　nearer　…　much　nearer。　　But　it　was　only　a　little　way；　just　a
little　way；　to　Gypsy　Nan's　…　not　so　far　as　the　distance　between
her　and　Rorke　…　and　…　and　if　the　man　didn't　gain　too　fast；　then
…　then　…　A　little　cry　of　dismay　came　with　a　new　and　terrifying
thought。　　Quite　apart　from　Rorke；　some　one　else　might　see　her　enter
Gypsy　Nan's！　　She　strained　her　eyes　in　all　directions　as　she　ran。
There　wasn't　any　one　…　she　didn't　see　any　one　…　only　Rorke；　around
the　corner　there；　was　bawling　out　at　the　top　of　his　voice；　and
…　and。。。

She　flung　herself　against　Gypsy　Nan's　door；　stumbled　in；　and；
closing　it；　heard　Rorke　just　swinging　around　the　corner。　　Had　he
seen　her？　　She　didn't　know。　　She　was　panting；　gasping　for　her
breath。　　It　seemed　as　though　her　lungs　would　burst。　　She　held
her　hand　tightly　to　her　bosom　as　she　made　for　the　stairs　…　she
mustn't　make　any　noise　…　they　mustn't　hear　her　breathing　like　that
…　they　…　they　mustn't　hear　her　going　up　the　stairs。

How　dark　it　was！　　If　she　could　only　see　…　so　that　she　would　be　sure
not　to　stumble！　　She　couldn't　go　fast　now　…　she　would　make　a　noise
if　she　did。　　Stair　after　stair　she　climbed　stealthily。　　Perhaps　she
was　safe　now　…　it　had　taken　her　a　long　time　to　get　up　here　to　the
second　floor；　and　there　wasn't　any　sound　yet　from　the　street　below。

And　now　she　mounted　the　short；　ladder…like　steps　to　the　attic；　and；
feeling　with　her　hand　for　the　crack　in　the　flooring　under　the
partition；　reached　in　for　the　key。　　As　her　fingers　closed　upon　it；
she　choked　back　a　cry。　　Some　one　had　been　here！　　A　piece　of　paper
was　wrapped　around　the　key。　　What　did　it　mean？　　What　did　all　these
strange；　yes；　sinister；　things　that　had　happened　to…night　mean？
How　had　Rorke　known　that　a　robbery　was　to　be　committed　at　Skarbolov's？
Who　was　that　man　who　had　effected　her　escape；　and　who；　she　knew　now；
was　no　more　drunk　than　she　was？　　Fast；　quick；　piling　one　upon　the
other；　the　questions　raced　through　her　mind。

She　fought　them　back。　　There　was　no　time　for　speculation　now！　　There
was　only　one　question　that　mattered：　Was　she　safe？

She　stood　up；　thrust　the　paper　for　safe…keeping　into　her　bosom；　and
unlocked　the　door。　　If　…　if　Rorke　did　not　know　that　she　had　entered
this　house　here；　she　could　remain　hidden　for　a　few　hours；　it　would
give　her　time　to　think；　and。。。

It　came　this　time；　no　strength　of　will　would　hold　it　back；　a　little
moan。　　The　front　door　below　had　opened；　a　heavy　footstep　sounded　in
the　lower　hall。　　She　couldn't　see；　of　course。　　But　she　knew。　　It　was
Rorke！　　She　heard　him　coming　up　the　stairs。

And　then；　in　a　flash；　it　seemed；　her　brain　responded　to　her
despairing　cry。　　There　was　still　a　way　…　a　desperate　one　…　but　still
a　way　…　if　there　was　time！　　She　darted　inside　the　garret；　locked　the
door；　found　the　matches　and　candle；　and；　running　silently　to　the　rear
wall；　pushed　up　the　board　in　the　ceiling。　　In　frantic　haste　she　tore
off　her　outer　garments；　her　stockings　and　shoes；　pulled　on　the　rough
stockings　and　coarse　boots　that　Gypsy　Nan　had　worn；　slipped　the　other's
greasy；　threadbare　skirt　over　her　head；　and　pinned　the　shawl　tight
about　her　shoulders。　　There　was　a　big；　voluminous　pocket　in　the　skirt；
and　into　this　she　dropped　Gypsy　Nan's　revolver；　and　the　paper　she　had
found　wrapped　around　the　key。

She　could　hear　a　commotion　from　below　now。　　It　was　the　one　thing　she
had　counted　upon。　　Rough　Rorke　might　know　she　had　entered　the　house；
but　he　could　not　know　whereabouts　in　the　house　she　was；　and　he　would
naturally　search　each　room　as　he　came　to　it　on　the　way　up。　　She　fitted
the　gray…streaked　wig　of　tangled；　matted　hair　upon　her　head；　plunged
her　hand　into　the　box　that　Gypsy　Nan　used　for　her　make…up　and　daubed
some　of　the　grime　upon　both　hands　and　face；　adjusted　the　spectacles
upon　her　nose；　hid　her　own　clothing；　closed　the　narrow　trap…door　in
the　ceiling；　and　ran　back；　carrying　the　candle；　to　the　washstand。

Here；　there　was　a　small　and　battered　mirror；　and　more　coolly；　more
leisurely　now；　for　the　commotion　still　continued　from　the　floor　below；
she　spread　and　rubbed　in；　as　craftily　as　she　could；　the　grime　streaks
on　her　face　and　hands。　　It　was　neither　artistic　nor　perfect；　but　in
the　meager；　flickering　light　now　the　face　of　Gypsy　Nan　seemed　to
stare　reassuringly　back　at　her。　　It　might　not　deceive　any　one　in
daylight　…　she　did　not　know；　and　it　did　not　matter　now　…　but　with　only
this　candle　to　light　the　garret；　since　the　lamp　was　empty；　she　could
fairly　count　on　her　identity　not　being　questioned。

She　blew　out　the　candle；　left　it　on　the　washstand；　because；　if　she
could　help　it；　she　did　not　want　to　risk　having　it　lighted　near　the
bed　or　door；　and；　tiptoeing　now；　went　to　the　door；　unlocked　it；　then
threw　herself　down　upon　the　bed。

Possibly　a　minute　went　by；　possibly　two；　and　then　there　was　a　quick
step　on　the　ladder…like　stairs；　the　door　handle　was　rattled　violently；
and　the　door　was　flung　open　and　slammed　shut　again。

Rhoda　Gray　sat　upright　on　the　bed。　　It　was　her　wits　now；　her　wits
against　Rough　Rorke's；　nothing　else　could　save　her。　　She　could　not
even　make　out　the　man's　form；　it　was　so　dark；　but；　as　he　had　not
moved；　she　was　quite　well　aware