the white moll-第6节

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thing　in　antiques！　　He's　a　queer　old　fool。　　Afraid　people　would　know
he　had　money　if　he　kept　it　in　the　bank　…　afraid　of　a　bank；　too。
Understand？　　We　found　out　that　every　once　in　a　while　he'd　change　a
lot　of　small　bills　for　a　big　one　…　five…hundred…dollar　bills　
…　thousand…dollar　bills。　　That　put　us　wise。　　We　began　to　watch　him。
It　took　months　to　find　where　he　hid　it。　　We've　spent　night　after
night　searching　through　his　shop。　　You　can　get　in　easily。　　There's
no　one　there　…　upstairs　is　just　a　storage　place　for　his　extra　stock。
There's　a　big　padlock　on　the　back　door；　but　there's　a　false　link　in
the　chain　…　count　three　links　to　the　right　from　the　padlock　…　we
put　it　there；　and　…〃

Gypsy　Nan's　voice　had　become　almost　inaudible。　　She　pulled　at　Rhoda
Gray's　wrist　again；　urging　her　closer。

〃Listen　…　quick！　　I　…　my　strength！　　she　panted。　　〃An　antique　he
never　sells　…　old　escritoire　against　rear　wall　…　secret　drawer
…　take　out　wide　middle　drawer　…　reach　in　and　rub　your　hand　along
the　top　…　you'll　feel　the　spring。　　We　waited　to　…　to　get　…　get
counterfeits　…　put　counterfeits　there　…　understand？　　Then　he'd
never　know　he'd　been　robbed　…　not　for　a　long　time　anyway　
…　discovered　perhaps　when　he　was　dead　…　old　wife　…　suffer　then
…　I　…　got　to　make　good　…　make　good　…　I　…〃　　She　came　up　suddenly
on　both　her　elbows；　the　dark　eyes　staring　wildly。　　〃Yes；　yes！〃
she　whispered。　　〃Seven…three…nine！　　Look　out！〃　　Her　voice　rang
with　sudden　terror；　rising　almost　to　a　scream。　　〃Look　out！　　Can't
you　understand；　you　fool！　　I've　told　you！　　Seven…three…nine！
Seven…three。。。

Rhoda　Gray's　arms　had　gone　around　the　other's　shoulders。　　She　heard
the　door　open…and　then　a　quick；　light　step。　　There　wasn't　any　other
sound　now。　　She　made　way　mechanically　for　the　nurse。　　And　then；
after　a　moment；　she　rose　from　her　knees。　　The　nurse　answered　her
unspoken　question。

〃Yes；　it's　over。〃


III。　　ALIAS　GYPSY　NAN

Rhoda　Gray　went　slowly　from　the　room。　　In　a　curiously　stunned　sort
of　way　she　reached　the　street；　and　for　a　few　blocks　walked　along
scarcely　conscious　of　the　direction　she　was　taking。　　Her　mind　was
in　turmoil。　　The　night　seemed　to　have　been　one　of　harrowing
hallucination；　it　seemed　as　though　it　were　utterly　unreal；　like　one
dreaming　that　one　is　dreaming。　　And　then；　suddenly；　she　looked　at
her　watch；　and　the　straight　little　shoulders　squared　resolutely　back。
The　hallucination；　if　she　chose　to　call　it　that；　was　not　yet　over！
It　was　twenty　minutes　of　one；　and　there　was　still　Skarbolov's　…　and
her　promise。

She　quickened　her　pace。　　She　did　not　like　this　promise　that　she　had
made；　but；　on　the　other　hand；　she　had　not　made　it　either　lightly　or
impulsively。　　She　had　no　regrets　on　that　score。　　She　would　make　it
again　under　the　same　conditions。　　How　could　she　have　done　otherwise？
It　would　have　been　to　stand　aside　and　permit　a　crime　to　be　committed
which　she　was　assured　was　easily　within　her　power　to　prevent。　　What
excuse　could　she　have　had　for　that？　　Fear　wasn't　an　excuse。　　She
did　not　like　the　thought　of　entering　the　back　door　of　a　store　in
the　middle　of　the　night　like　a　thief；　and；　like　a　thief；　taking　away
that　hidden　money。　　She　knew　she　was　going　to　be　afraid；　horribly
afraid　…　it　frightened　her　now　…　but　she　could　not　let　that　fear
make　a　moral　coward　of　her。

Her　hands　clenched　at　her　sides。　　She　would　not　allow　herself　to
dwell　upon　that　phase　of　it！　　She　was　going　to　Skarbolov's；　and
that　was　all　there　was　to　it。　　The　only　thing　she　really　had　to
fear　was　that　she　should　lose　even　a　single　unnecessary　moment　in
getting　there。　　Halfpast　one；　Gypsy　Nan　had　said。　　That　should　give
her　ample　time；　but　the　quicker　she　went；　the　wider　the；　margin　of
safety。

Her　thoughts　reverted　to　Gypsy　Nan。　　What　had　the　woman　meant
by　her　last　few　wandering　words？　　They　had　nothing　to　do　with
Skarbolov's；　that　was　certain；　but　the　words　came　back　now
insistently。　　〃Seven…three…nine。〃　　What　did　〃seven…three…nine〃
mean？　　She　shook　her　head　helplessly。　　Well；　what　did　it　matter？
She　dismissed　further　consideration　of　it。　　She　repeated　to　herself
Gypsy　Nan's　directions　for　finding　the　spring　of　the　secret　drawer。
She　forced　herself　to　think　of　anything　that　would　bar　the　entry
of　that　fear　which　stood　lurking　at　the　threshold　of　her　mind。

From　time　to　time　she　consulted　her　watch　…　and　each　time　hurried
the　faster。

It　was　five　minutes　past　one　when；　stealing　silently　along　a　black
lane；　and　counting　against　the　skyline　the　same　number　of　buildings
she　had　previously　counted　on　the　street　from　the　corner；　she
entered　an　equally　black　yard；　and　reached　the　back　door　of
Skarbolov's　little　store。　　She　felt　out　with　her　hands　and　found
the　padlock；　and　her　fingers　pressed　on　the　link　in　the　chain　that
Gypsy　Nan　had　described。　　It　gave　readily。　　She　slipped　it　free；
and　opened　the　door。　　There　was　faint；　almost　inaudible；　protesting
creak　from　the　hinges。　　She　caught　her　breath　quickly。　　Had　anybody
heard　it？　　It　…　it　had　seemed　like　a　cannon　shot。　　And　then　her　lips
curled　in　sudden　self…contempt。　　Who　was　there　to　hear　it？

She　stepped　forward；　closed　the　door　silently　behind　her；　and　drew
out　her　flashlight。　　The　ray　cut　through　the　blackness。　　She　was
in　what　seemed　like　a　small；　outer　storeroom；　that　was　littered
with　an　untidy　collection　of　boxes；　broken　furniture；　and　odds　and
ends　of　all　sorts。　　Ahead　of　her　was　an　open　door；　and；　through
this；　the　flashlight　disclosed　the　shop　itself。　　She　switched　off
the　light　now　as　she　moved　forward…there　were　the　front　windows；
and；　used　too　freely；　the　light　might　by　some　unlucky　chance　be
noticed　from　the　street。

And　now；　in　the　darkness　again；　she　reached　the　doorway　of　the
shop。　　She　had　not　made　any　noise。　　She　assured　herself　of　that。
She　had　never　known　that　she　could　move　so　silently　before　…　and
…　and　…　Yes；　she　would　fight　down　this　panic　that　was　seizing　her！
She　would！　　It　would　only　take　a　minute　now　…　just　another　minute
…　if　…　if　she　would　only　keep　her　head　and　her　nerve。　　That　was
what　Gypsy　Nan　had　said。　　She　only　needed　to　keep　her　nerve。　　She
had　never　lost　it　in　the　face　of　many　a　really　serious　danger　when
with　her　father　…　why　should　she　now；　when　there　was　nothing　but
the　silence　and　the　darkness　to　be　afraid　of！

The　flashlight　went　on　again；　its　ray　creeping　inquisitively　now
along　the　rear　wall　of　the　shop。　　It　held　finally　on　an　escritoire
over　in　the　far　corner　at　her　right。

Once　more　the　light　went　out。　　She　moved　swiftly　across　the　floor；
and　in　a　moment　more　was　bending　over　the　escritoire。　　And　now；
with　her　body　hiding　the　flashlight's　rays　from　the　front　windows；
she　examined　the　desk。　　It　was　an　old…fashioned；　spindle…legged
affair；　with　a　nest　of　pigeonholes　and　multifarious　little　drawers。
One　of　the　drawers；　wider　than　any　of　the　others；　and　in　the　center；
was　obviously　the　one　to　which　Gypsy　Nan　referred。　　She　pulled　out
the　drawer；　and　in　the　act　of　reaching　inside；　suddenly　drew　back
her　hand。　　What　was　that？　　Instinctively　she　switched　off　the
flashlight；　and　stood　tense　and　rigid　in　the　darkness。

A　minute　passed…another。　　Still　she　listened。
There　was　no　sound　…　unless　…　unless　she　could　actually　hear　the
beating　of　her　heart。　　Fancy！　　Imagination！　　The　darkness　played
strange　tricks！　　It　…　it　wasn't　so　easy　to　keep　one'　s　nerve。　　She
could　have　sworn　that　she　had　heard　some　sort　of　movement　back
there　down　the　shop。

Angry　with　herself；　she　thrust　her　hand　into　the　opening　now　and
felt　hurriedly　around。　　Yes；　there　it　was！　　Her　fingers　touched
what　was　evidently　a　little　knob　or　button。　　She　pressed　upon　it。
There　was　a　faint；　answering　click。　　She　turned　on　the　flashlight
again。　　What　had　before　appeared　to　be　nothing　but　one　of　the　wide；
pearl　inlaid　partitions　between　two　of　the　smaller　drawers；　was
protruding　invitingly　outward　now　by　the　matter　of　an　inch　or　so。
Rhoda　Gray　pulled　it　open。　　It　was　very　shallow；　scarcely
three…quarters　of　an　inch　in　depth；　but　it　was　quite　long　enough；
and　quite　wide　enough　for　its　purpose！　　Inside；　there　lay　a　little
pile　of　banknotes；　banknotes　of　very　large　denomination　…　the　one
on　top　was　a　thousand…dollar　bill。

She　reached　in　and　took　out　the　money…and　then　from　Rhoda　Gray's
lips　there　came　a　little　cry；　the　flashlight　dropped　from　her　hand
and　smashed　to　the　floor；　and　she　was　clinging　desperately　to　the　
edge　of　the　escritoire　for　support。　　The　shop　was　flooded　with　light。
Over　by　the　side　wall；　one　hand　still　on　the　electric…light　switch；
the　other　holding　a　leveled　revolver；　stood　a　man。

And　then　the　man　spoke　…　with　an　oath　…　with　curious　amazement：

〃My　God　…　a　woman！〃

She　did　not　speak；　or　stir。　　It　seemed　as　though　not　fear；　but
horror　now；　held　her　powerless　to　move　her　limbs。　　Her　first　swift
brain…flash　had　been　that　it　was　one　of　Gypsy　Nan's　accomplices
here　ahead　of　the　appointed　time。　　That　would　have　given　her　cause；
all　too　much　of　cause；　for　fear；　but　it　was　not　one　of　Gypsy　Nan's
accomplices；　and；　far　worse　than　the　fear　of　any　physical　attack
upon　her；　was　the　sense　of　ruin　and　disaster　that　the　realization
of　a　quite　different　and　more　desperate　situation　brought　her　now。
She　knew