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〃Say； wot's de row？〃 she demanded。
The young man grinned。
〃Somebody pinched a million from de old guy！〃 He shifted his
cigarette with a deft movement of his tongue from one side of his
mouth to the other； and grinned again。 〃Can youse beat it！
Accordin' to him； he had enough coin to annex de whole of Noo Yoik！
De moll's his wife。 He went out to hell…an'…gone somewhere for a
few years huntin' gold while de old girl starved。 Den back he comes
an' blows in to…day wid his pockets full； an' de old girl grabs a
handful； an' goes out to buy up all de grub in sight 'cause she
ain't had none for so long。 An' w'en she comes back she finds de
old geezer gagged an' tied in a chair； an' some guy's hit him a
crack on de bean an' flown de coop wid de mazuma。 But youse had
better get out of here before youse gets run over！ Dis ain't no
place for an old skirt like youse。 De bulls'11 be down here on de
hop in a minute； an' w'en dis mob starts sprinklin' de street wid
deir fleetin' footsteps； youse are likely to get hurt。 See？〃 The
young man started to force his way through the crowd again。 〃Youse
had better cut loose； mother！〃 he warned over his shoulder。
It was good advice。 Rhoda Gray took it。 She had scarcely reached
the next block when the crowd behind her was being scattered
pell…mell and without ceremony in all directions by the police； as
the young man had predicted。 She went on。 There was nothing that
she could do。 The man's face and the woman's face haunted her。
They had seemed stamped with such abject misery and despair。 But
there was nothing that she could do。 It was one of those sore and
grievous cross…sections out of the lives of the swarming thousands
down here in this quarter which she knew so intimately and so well。
And there were so many； many of those cross…sections！ Once； in a
small； pitifully meager and restricted way； she had been able to
help some of these hurt lives； but now … Her lips tightened a
little。 She was going to Shluker's junk shop。
Her forehead gathered in little furrows as she walked along。 She
had weighed the pros and cons of this visit a hundred times already
during the day； but even so； instinctively to reassure herself lest
some apparently minor； but nevertheless fatally vital； point might
have been overlooked； her mind reverted to it again。 From Shluker's
viewpoint； whether Gypsy Nan was in the habit of mingling with or
visiting the other members of the gang or not … a matter upon which
she could not even hazard a guess … her visit to…night must appear
entirely logical。 There was last night … and； a natural corollary；
her equally natural anxiety on her supposed husband's account；
providing； of course； that Shluker was aware that Gypsy Nan was
Danglar's wife。 But even if Shluker did not know that； he knew
at least that Gypsy Nan was one of the gang； and； as such； he must
equally accept it as natural that she should be anxious and disturbed
over what had happened。 She would be on safe ground either way。
She would pretend to know only what had appeared in the papers； in
other words； that the police； attracted to the spot by the sound of
revolver shots； had found Danglar handcuffed to the fire escape of
a well…known thieves' resort in an all too well…known and
questionable locality。
A smile came spontaneously。 It was quite true。 That was where the
Adventurer had left Danglar … handcuffed to the fire escape！ The
smile vanished。 The humor of the situation was not long…lived； it
ended there。 Danglar was as cunning as the proverbial fox； and
Danglar； at that moment； in desperate need of explaining his
predicament in some plausible way to the police； had； as the
expression went； run true to form。 Danglar's story； as reported by
the papers； even rose above his own high…water mark of vicious
cunning； because it played upon a chord that appealed instantly to
the police； and it rang true； not only because what the police
could find out about him made it likely； but also because it
contained a modicum of truth in itself； and； furthermore； Danglar
had scored on still another count in that his story must stimulate
the police into renewed activities as his unsuspecting allies in
the one thing； the one aim and object that； at that moment； must
obsess him above all others … the discovery of herself； the White
Moll。
It was ingeniously simple； Danglar's smooth and oily lie！ He had
been walking along the street； he had stated； when he saw a woman；
as she passed under a street lamp； who he thought resembled the
White Moll。 To make sure； he followed her … at a safe distance；
as he believed。 She entered the tenement。 He hesitated。 He knew
the reputation of the place； which bore out his first impression
that the woman was the one he thought she was； but he did not want
to make a fool of himself by calling in the police until he was
positive of her identity； so he finally followed her inside； and
heard her go upstairs； and crept up after her in the dark。 And
then； suddenly； he was set upon and hustled into a room。 It was
the White Moll； all right； and the shots came from her companion；
a man whom he described minutely … the description being that of
the Adventurer； of course。 They seemed to think that he； Danglar；
was a plain…clothes man； and tried to sicken him of his job by
frightening him。 And then they forced him through the window and
down the fire escape； and fastened him there with handcuffs to
mock the police； and the White Moll's companion had deliberately
fired some more shots to make sure of bringing the police to the
scene； and then the two of them had run for it。
Rhoda Gray's eyes darkened angrily。 The newspapers said that
Danglar had been temporarily held by the police； though his story
was believed to be true； for certainly the man would make no mistake
as to the identity of the White Moll； since his life； what the
police could find out about it； coincided with his own statements；
and he would naturally therefore have seen her many times in the
Bad Lands when she was working there under cover of her despicable
role of sweet and innocent charity。 Danglar had made no pretensions
to self…righteousness … he was too cute for that。 He admitted that
he had no 〃specific occupation；〃 that he hung around the gambling
hells a good deal； that he followed the horses … that； frankly； he
lived by his wits。 He had probably given some framed…up address to
the police； but； if so； the papers had not stated where it was。
Rhoda Gray's face； under the grime of Gypsy Nan's disguise； grew
troubled and perplexed。 Neither had the papers； even the evening
papers； stated whether Danglar had as yet been released … they had
devoted the rest of their space to the vilification of the White
Moll。 They had demanded in no uncertain tones a more conclusive
effort on the part of the authorities to bring her； and with her
now the man in the case； as they called the Adventurer； to
justice； and。。。
The thought of the Adventurer caused her mind to swerve sharply off
at a tangent。 Where he had piqued and aroused her curiosity before；
he now； since last night； seemed more complex a character than ever。
It was strange； most strange； the way their lives； his and hers； had
become interwoven！ She had owed him much； but last night she had
repaid him and squared accounts。 She had told him so。 She owed him
nothing more。 If a sense of gratitude had once caused her to look
upon him with … with … She bit her lips。 What was the use of that？
Had it become so much a part of her life； so much a habit； this
throwing of dust in the eyes of others； this constant passing of
herself off for some one else； this constant deception； warranted
though it might be； that she must now seek to deceive herself！ Why
not frankly admit to her own soul； already in the secret； that she
cared in spite of herself … for a thief？ Why not admit that a great
hurt had come； one that no one but herself would ever know； a hurt
that would last for always because it was a wound that could never
be healed？
A thief！ She loved a thief。 She had fought a bitter； stubborn
battle with her common sense to convince herself that he was not
a thief。 She had snatched hungrily at the incident that centered
around those handcuffs； so opportunely produced from the Adventurer's
pocket。 She had tried to argue that those handcuffs not only
suggested； but proved； he was a police officer in disguise； working
on some case in which Danglar and the gang had been mixed up； and；
as she tried to argue in this wise； she tried to shut her eyes to
the fact that the same pocket out of which the handcuffs came was
at exactly the same moment the repository of as many stolen
banknotes as it would hold。 She had tried to argue that the fact
that he was so insistently at work to defeat Danglar's plans was in
his favor； but that argument； like all others； came quickly and
miserably to grief。 Where the 〃leak〃 was； as Danglar called it；
that supplied the Adventurer with foreknowledge of the gang's
movements； she had no idea； save that perhaps the Adventurer and
some traitor in the gang were in collusion for their own ends … and
that