The White Moll
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第42章 X ON THE BRINK(3)

This is the place. We brought that trick table here a while ago, as soon as we had got rid of Nicky Viner. That was the only bit of stage setting we had to do to make the story ring true right up to the curtain, in case it was necessary. It wouldn't have been necessary if you and the White Moll had both come together, for then you would neither of you have got any further than that other room. It would have ended there. But we weren't taking any chances.

I'll pay you the compliment of admitting that we weren't counting on getting you off your guard any too easily if, as it happened, you came alone, for, being alone, or if either of you were alone, there was that little proposition that had to be settled, instead of just knocking you on the head out there in the dark in that other room; and so, as I say, we weren't overlooking any bets on account of the little trouble it took to plant that table and the money. We tried to think of everything!" Danglar paused for a moment to mock the Adventurer with narrowed eyes. "That's the story; here's the end.

I hoped I'd get you both together, you and the White Moll. I didn't.

But I've got you. I didn't get you both - and that's what gives you a chance for your life, because she's worth more to us than you are.

If you'd been together, you would have gone out-together. As it is, I'll see that you don't do any more harm anyway, but you get one chance. Where is she? If you answer that, you will, of course, answer a minor question and locate that 'leak', for me, that I was speaking about a moment ago. But we'll take the main thing first.

And you can take your choice between a bullet and a straight answer.

Where is the White Moll?"

Rhoda Gray's hand felt Out along the wall for support. Was this a dream, some ghastly, soul-terrifying nightmare! Danglar! Those working lips! That callous viciousness, that leer in the degenerate face. It seemed to bring a weakness to her limbs, and seek to rob her of the strength to stand. She could not even hope against hope; she knew that Danglar was in deadly earnest. Danglar would not have the slightest compunction, let alone hesitation, in carrying out his threat. Terrified now, her eyes sought the Adventurer. Didn't the Adventurer know Danglar as she knew him, didn't he realize that there was deadly earnestness behind Danglar's words? Was the man mad, that he stood there utterly unmoved, as though he had no consideration on earth other than those carefully manicured finger nails of his!

And then Danglar spoke again.

"Do you notice anything special about this gun I'm holding on you?" he demanded, in low menace.

The Adventurer did not even look up.

"Oh, yes," he said indifferently. "I fancy you got it out of a dime novel, didn't you? One of those silencer things."

"Yes," said Danglar grimly; "one of those silencer things. Where is she?"

The Adventurer made no answer.

The color in Danglar's face deepened.

"I'll make things even a little plainer to you," he said with brutal coolness. "There are two men in our organization from whom it is absolutely impossible that that leak could have come. Those two men followed you from Perlmer's office to this place. They are in the next room now waiting for me to get through with you, and ready for anything if they are needed. But they won't be needed. That's not the way it works out. This gun won't make much noise, and it isn't likely to arouse the inmates of this dive, but even if it does, it doesn't matter very much - we aren't going out by the front door. The two of them, the minute they hear the shot, slip in here, and lock the door - you see it's got a good, husky bolt on it - and then we beat it by the fire escape that runs past that window there.

Get the idea? And don't kid yourself into thinking that I am taking any risk with the consequences on account of the coroner having got busy because a man was found here dead on the floor. Nicky Viner stands for that. It isn't the first time he's been suspected of murder. See? Nicky was easy. He'd crawl on his hands and knees from the Battery to Harlem any time if you held a little money in front of his nose. He's been fooled up to the eyes with a faked-up message that he's to deliver secretly to some faked-up crooks out West. He's just about starting away on the train now. And that's where the police nab him - running away from the murder he's pulled in his room here to-night. Looks kind of bad for Nicky Viner - eh?

We should worry! It cost a hundred dollars and his ticket. Cheap, wasn't it? I guess you're worth that much to us."

A dull horror seized upon Rhoda Gray. It seemed to clog and confuse her mind. She fought it frantically, striving to think, and to think clearly. Every detail seemed to have been planned with Satanic foresight and ingenuity, and yet - and yet - Yes, in one little thing, Danglar had made a mistake. That was why she was here now; that was why those men in that next room had not been out in the hall on guard, or even out in the street on watch for her. Danglar had naturally gone upon the supposition that the Adventurer and herself worked hand in glove; whereas they were as much in the dark concerning each other's movements as Danglar himself was. Therefore Danglar, and logically enough from his viewpoint, had jumped to the conclusion that, since they had not come together, only one of them, the Adventurer, was acting in the affair to-night, and - Danglar's voice was rasping in her ears.

"I'm not going to stay here all night!" he snarled. "You've got one chance. I've told you what it is. You're lucky to have it.

We'd sooner have you out of the way for keeps. I'd rather drop you in your tracks than let you live. Where is the White Moll?"

The Adventurer was side face to the doorway again, and Rhoda Gray saw him smile contemptuously at Danglar now.

"Really," he said blandly, "I haven't the slightest idea in the world."

Danglar laughed ironically.