The White Moll Part 3

But a moment later, inside the hospital, as the admitting officer began to ask questions of Rhoda Gray, Gypsy Nan had apparently recovered her grip upon herself.

"Ah, let her alone!" she broke in. "She doesn't know me any more than you do. She found me on the street. But she was good to me, G.o.d bless her!"

"Your name's Charlotte Green? Yes?" The man nodded. "Where do you live?"

"Wherever I like!" Gypsy Nan was snarling truculently now. "What's it matter where I live? Don't you ever have any one come here without a letter from the pastor of her church!" She pulled out the package of banknotes. "You aren't going to get stuck. This'll see you through whatever happens. Give me a--a private room, and"--her voice was weakening rapidly--"and"--there came a bitter, facetious laugh--"the best you've got." Her voice was weakening rapidly.

They carried her upstairs. She still insisted on clinging to Rhoda Gray's hand.

"Don't leave me!" she pleaded again, as they reached the door of a private room, and Rhoda Gray disengaged her hand gently.

"I'll stay outside here," Rhoda Gray promised. "I won't go away without seeing you again."

Rhoda Gray sat down on a settee in the hall. She glanced at her wrist watch. It was five minutes of eleven. Doctors and nurses came and went from the room. Then a great quiet seemed to settle down around her. A half hour pa.s.sed. A doctor went into the room, and presently came out again. She intercepted him as he came along the corridor.

He shook his head.

She did not understand his technical explanation. There was something about a clot and blood stoppage. But as she resumed her seat, she understood very fully that the end was near. The woman was resting quietly now, the doctor had said, but if she, Rhoda Gray, cared to wait, she could see the other before leaving the hospital.

And so she waited. She had promised Gypsy Nan she would.

The minutes dragged along. A quarter of an hour pa.s.sed. Still another.

Midnight came. Fifteen minutes more went by, and then a nurse came out of the room, and, standing by the door, beckoned to Rhoda Gray.

"She is asking for you," the nurse said. "Please do not stay more than a few minutes. I shall be outside here, and if you notice the slightest change, call me instantly."

Rhoda Gray nodded.

"I understand," she said.

The door closed softly behind her. She was smiling cheerily as she crossed the room and bent over Gypsy Nan.

The woman stretched out her hand.

"The White Moll!" she whispered. "He told the truth, that bull did--straight as they make 'em, and--"

"Don't try to talk," Rhoda Gray interrupted gently. "Wait until you are a little stronger."

"Stronger!" Gypsy Nan shook her head. "Don't try to kid me! I know. They told me. I'd have known it anyway. I'm going out."

Rhoda Gray found no answer for a moment. A great lump had risen in her throat. Neither would she have needed to be told; she, too, would have known it anyway--it was stamped in the gray pallor of the woman's face.

She pressed Gypsy Nan's hand.

And then Gypsy Nan spoke again, a queer, yearning hesitancy in her voice:

"Do--do you believe in G.o.d?"

"Yes," said Rhoda Gray simply.

Gypsy Nan closed her eyes.

"Do--do you think there is a chance--even at the last--if--if, without throwing down one's pals, one tries to make good?"

"Yes," said Rhoda Gray again.

"Is the door closed?" Gypsy Nan attempted to raise herself on her elbow, as though to see for herself.

Rhoda Gray forced the other gently back upon the pillows.

"It is closed," she said. "You need not be afraid."

"What time is it?" demanded Gypsy Nan.

Rhoda Gray looked at her watch.

"Twenty-five minutes after twelve," she answered.

"There's time yet, then," whispered Gypsy Nan. "There's time yet."

She lay silent for a moment, then her hand closed tightly around Rhoda Gray's. "Listen!" she said. "There's more about--about why I lived like that than I told you. And--and I can't tell you now--I can't go out like a yellow cur--I'm not going to snitch on anybody else just because I'm through myself. But--but there's something on to-night that I'd--I'd like to stop. Only the police, or anybody else, aren't to know anything about it, because then they'd nip my friends. See? But you can do it--easy. You can do it alone without anybody knowing. There's time yet.

They weren't going to pull it until halfpast one--and there won't be any danger for you. All you've got to do is get the money before they do, and then see that it goes back where it belongs to-morrow. Will you? You don't want to see a crime committed to-night if--if you can stop it, do you?"

Rhoda Gray's face was grave. She hesitated for a moment.

"I'll have to know more than that before I can answer you, Nan," she said.

"It's the only way to stop it!" Gypsy Nan whispered feverishly. "I won't split on my pals--I won't--I won't! But I trust you. Will you promise not to snitch if I tell you how to stop it, even if you don't go there yourself? I'm offering you a chance to stop a twenty-thousand-dollar haul. If you don't promise it's got to go through, because I've got to stand by the ones that were in it with me. I--I'd like to make good--just--once. But I can't do it any other way. For G.o.d's sake, you see that, don't you?"

"Yes," said Rhoda Gray in a low voice; "but the promise you ask for is the same as though I promised to try to get the money you speak of. If I knew what was going on, and did nothing, I would be an accomplice to the crime, and guilty myself."

"But I can't do anything else!" Gypsy Nan was speaking with great difficulty. "I won't get those that were with me in wrong--I won't! You can prevent a crime to-night, if you will--you--you can help me to--to make good."

Rhoda Gray's lips tightened, "Will you give me your word that I can do what you suggest--that it is feasible, possible?"

"Yes," said Gypsy Nan. "You can do it easily, and--and it's safe. It--it only wants a little nerve, and--and you've got that."

"I promise, then," said Rhoda Gray.

"Thank G.o.d!" Gypsy Nan pulled fiercely at Rhoda Gray's wrist. "Come nearer-nearer! You know Skarbolov, old Skarbolov, who keeps the antique store--on the street--around the corner from my place?" Rhoda Gray nodded.

"He's rich!" whispered Gypsy Nan. "Think of it! Him--rich! But he gets the best of the Fifth Avenue crowd just because he keeps his joint in that rotten hole. They think they're getting the real 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.