the white moll-第14节
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as though defiant of a tinge of perplexity that had suddenly taken
possession of her。 She did not know Shluker； or anything about
Shluker's place except its locality； but surely 〃the old room behind
Shluker's〃 was direction enough； and … She had just emerged from the
end of the driveway now； and now； startled； she turned her head
quickly； as she heard a brisk step turning in from the street behind
her。 But in the darkness she could see no one； and satisfied；
therefore； that she in turn had not been seen； she moved swiftly
to one side； and crouched down against the rear wall of one of the
tenements。 A long moment； that seemed an eternity； passed； and
then a man's form came out from the driveway； and started across
the courtyard。
She drew in her breath sharply； a curious mingling of relief and a
sudden panic fear upon her。 It was not so dark in the courtyard
as it had been in the driveway； and； unless she were strangely
mistaken that form out there was Danglar's。 She watched him as he
headed toward a small building that loomed up like a black；
irregular shadow across the courtyard； and which was Shluker's shop
… watched him in a tense； fascinated way。 She was in time； then
… only … only somehow now her limbs seemed to have become weak and
powerless。 It seemed suddenly as though she craved with all her
soul the protecting shadows of the tenement； and that every impulse
bade her cling there； flattened against the wall； until she could
make her escape。 She was afraid now； she shrank from the next step。
It wasn't illogical。 She had set out with a purpose in view； and
she had not been blind to the danger that she ran； but the
prospective and mental encounter with danger did not hold the terror
that the tangible； concrete and actual presence of that peril did
… and that was Danglar there。
She felt her face whiten； and she felt the tremor of her lips；
tightly as they were drawn together。 Yes； she was afraid； afraid
in every fiber of her being； but there was a difference； wasn't
there； between being afraid and being a coward？ Her small； gloved
hands clenched； her lips parted slightly。 She laughed a little
now； low； without mirth。 Upon what she did or did not do； upon the
margin between fear and cowardice as applied to herself； there hung
a man's life。 Danglar was disappearing around the side of Shluker's
shop。 She moved out from the wall； and swiftly； silently； crossed
the courtyard； gained the side of the junk shop in turn； skirted it；
and halted； listening； peering around her； as she reached the rear
corner of the building。 A door closed somewhere ahead of her； from
above； upstairs； faint streaks of light showed through the
interstices of a shuttered window。
She crept forward now； hugging the rear wall； reached a door…the
one； obviously； through which Danglar had disappeared； and which
she had heard as it was closed … tried the door； found it unlocked；
and； noiselessly； inch by inch； pushed it open； and a moment later；
stepping over the threshold； she closed it softly behind her。 A
dull glow of light； emanating evidently from an open door above；
disclosed the upper portion of a stairway over on her left； but
apart from that the place was in blackness； and save that she knew；
of course； she was in the rear of Shluker's junk shop； she could
form no idea of her surroundings。 But she could； at last； hear。
Voices； one of which she recognized as Danglar's； though she could
not distinguish the words； reached her from upstairs。
Slowly； with infinite care； she crossed to the stairs； and on hands
and knees now； lest she should make a sound； began to crawl upward。
And a little way up； panic fear seized upon her again； and her heart
stood still； and she turned a miserable face in the darkness back
toward the door below； and fought against the impulse to retreat
again。
And then she heard Danglar speak； and from her new vantage point
his words came to her distinctly this time：
〃Good work； Skeeny！ You've got the Sparrow nicely trussed up； I
see。 Well； he'll do as he is for a while there。 I told the boys
to hold off a bit。 It's safer to wait an hour or two yet； before
moving him away from here and bumping him off。〃
〃Two jobs instead of one！〃 a surly voice answered。 〃We might just
as well have finished him and slipped him away for keeps when we
first got our hooks on him。〃
〃Got a little sick of your wood…carving； while you stuck around by
your lonesome and watched him … eh？〃 Danglar's tones were jocularly
facetious。 〃Don't grouch； Skeeny！ We're not killing for fun … it
doesn't pay。 Supposing anything had broken wrong up the Avenue … eh？
We wouldn't have had our friend the Sparrow there for the next time
we tried it！〃
There was something abhorrently callous in the laugh that followed。
It seemed to fan into flame a smoldering fire of passionate anger
in Rhoda Gray's soul。 And before it panic fled。 Her hand felt
upward for the next stair…tread； and she crept on again； as a face
seemed to rise before her … not the Sparrow's face … a woman's face。
It was a face that was crowned with very thin white hair； and its
eyes were the saddest she had ever seen； and yet they were brave；
steady old eyes that had not lost their faith； nor had the old；
care…lined face itself； in spite of suffering； lost its gentleness
and sweetness。 And then suddenly it seemed to change； that face；
and become wreathed in smiles； and happy tears to run coursing down
the wrinkled cheeks。 Yes； she remembered！ It had brought the tears
to her own eyes。 It was the night that the wayward Sparrow； home
from the penitentiary； on his knees； his head buried in his mother's
lap； had sworn that he would go straight。
Fear！ It seemed as though she never had known； never could know
fear … that only a merciless； tigerish； unbridled fury had her in
its thrall。 And she went on up； step after step； as Danglar spoke
again：
〃There's nothing to it！ The Sparrow there fell for the telephone
when Stevie played the doctor。 And old Hayden…Bond of course grants
his prison…bird chauffeur's request to spend the night with his
mother； who the doctor says is taken worse； because the old guy
knows there is a mother who really is sick。 Only Mr。 Hayden…Bond；
and the police with him； will maybe figure it a little differently
in the morning when they find the safe looted； and that the Sparrow；
instead of ever going near the poor old dame； has flown the coop
and can't be found。 And in case there's any lingering doubt in
their minds； that piece of paper with the grease…smudges and the
Sparrow's greasy finger…prints on it； that you remember we copped
a few days ago in the garage； will set them straight。 The Cricket
slipped it in among the papers he pulled out of the safe and tossed
around on the floor。 It looks as though a tool had been wiped with
it while the safe was being cracked； and that it got covered over
by the stuff that was emptied out； and had been forgotten。 I guess
they won't be long in comparing the finger…prints with the ones the
Sparrow kindly left with them when they measured him for his striped
suit the time they sent him up the river … eh？〃
Rhoda Gray could see now。 Her eyes were on a level with the landing；
and diagonally across from the head of the stairs was the open
doorway of a lighted room。 She could not see all of the interior；
but she could see quite enough。 Two men sat； side face to her；
one at each end of a rough； deal table … Danglar； and an ugly；
pock…marked； unshaven man； in a peaked cap that was drawn down over
his eyes； who whittled at a stick with a huge jack…knife。 The
latter was Skeeny； obviously； and the jack…knife and the stick；
quite as obviously； explained Danglar's facetious reference to
wood…carving。 And then her eyes shifted； and widened as they rested
on a huddled form that she could see by looking under and beyond the
table； and that lay sprawled out against the far wall of the room。
Skeeny pushed the peak of his cap back with the point of his
knife…blade。
〃What's the haul size up at？〃 he demanded。 〃Anything in the safe
besides the shiners？〃
〃A few hundred dollars；〃 Danglar replied。 〃I don't know exactly
how much。 I told the Cricket to divide it up among the boys who
did the rough work。 That's good enough； isn't it； Skeeny？ It
gives you a little extra。 You'll get yours。〃
Skeeny grunted compliance。
〃Well； let's have a look at the white ones； then；〃 he said。
Rhoda Gray was standing upright in the little hallway now； and now；
pressed close against the wall； she edged toward the door…jamb。
And a queer； grim little smile came and twisted the sensitive lips；
as she drew her revolver from her pocket。 The merciless； pitiless
way in which the newspapers had flayed the White Moll was not； after
all； to be wholly regretted！ The cool； clever resourcefulness； the
years of reckless daring attributed to the White Moll； would stand
her in good stead now。 Everybody on the East Side knew her by sight。
These men knew her。 It was not merely a woman ambitiously attempting
to beard two men who； perhaps； holding her sex in contempt in an
adventure of this kind； might throw discret
