Kitabı oku: «A Woman at Bay: or, A Fiend in Skirts», sayfa 12

CHAPTER XXII.
AT MIKE GRINNEL'S DIVE

When Curly John knocked at the door of the Sunday-night entrance to Mike Grinnel's dive in a peculiar manner, that was evidently full of significance to the one behind it, it opened instantly, and the burly form of the bouncer of the establishment was discovered.

His face, which might have been a stone mask for all the expression it manifested when he first appeared, beamed with joy, however, when he discovered Curly John, and thrust out his big hamlike fist with undoubted enthusiasm.

"Hello, Curly," he said. "I thought you were in limbo."

"And so I was," replied Curly, "until they discovered that they didn't want me."

"Make up their minds that you wasn't in that little affair, eh?"

"That's the size of it, Red. Here's my two friends that I brought with me. Some one you don't know, and they ain't either of them known inside, either. Do you let them pass?"

"Sure, Curly. I lets them pass, if you say so."

"Come, lads," said Curly, without vouchsafing any further statement to the guard at the door; and so it was that the way was open for the two detectives to enter upon the mysteries of that infamous retreat where it was the proprietor's boast that no police officer had ever appeared without his own expressed permission.

The big room where the patrons congregated on Sunday night was comfortably filled when Nick Carter entered it with his two companions.

In all that place there were only two tables unoccupied, and one of those was almost directly in the centre of the room. Curly led the way to it at once, and the three seated themselves around it while the bank burglar sent out his order for the refreshments that were required.

Nick and Chick had made the necessary changes in their appearance; and each assumed the outward character and general aspect of a person who would be likely to frequent such a place as Grinnel's.

Nick Carter was always a thorough believer in the maxim that too much disguise was worse than none at all, and therefore, when the occasion required that he should assume one, it was his habit to do as little real disguising as possible, and therefore, with the exception of giving himself a black eye, and blocking out a couple of his teeth, fixing his face so that it appeared as though there was a couple days' growth of beard upon it, and donning a rough-looking costume, he was unchanged.

In a place like Mike Grinnel's no man thought of taking off his hat unless his head was too warm, and therefore Nick kept his on with the brim pulled down well over his eyes.

The mere fact that the two detectives were in the company of Curly John was sufficient voucher for their personalities, and it did not occur to anybody, not even to Mike Grinnel himself, to question them.

They were there; they were with Curly John; he had brought them, and that was enough. And, although there were many expressions of welcome spoken and called out to Curly John when he passed into the room and took his seat at the table, nobody in all that throng offered to approach him, for it was an unwritten law of the underworld that a man who reappears for the first time among his associates after imprisonment is left alone to make his own advances when he is pleased to do so.

As for the two strangers who accompanied him, their presence did not concern the others, so long as Curly John vouched for them.

If they thought anything about it at all, they assumed that the burglar was preparing for another professional trip, and that the two strangers were interested in his plans. They all regarded it as none of their affair, and in the underworld it is the rule of life to mind your own business, and let other people do the same.

As soon as the detective had taken his seat – which he was careful to do in such a position that he could command a view of the greater part of the room without perceptibly turning his head – he began, little by little, and one by one, to study the people who were there.

At first he paid no attention whatever to the men; but, since it was a fact that more than half of the guests, or patrons, or whatever you please to call them, were women, and as there were at least sixty persons present, it was some time before his eyes rested upon the face that he sought.

But Madge was there without question. She had not thought it necessary to attempt any disguise of any sort, and her bold, black eyes were roving restlessly about the room when Nick Carter encountered them.

But his own were so thoroughly shaded by the wide brim of the slouch hat he wore that he did not believe that she knew he was looking at her.

In this manner he studied her for some time, and discovered that she was furtively watching Curly John and the two who had come there with him.

It was apparent to the detective that Black Madge had not overcome her old habit of suspecting everybody; and the mere fact that there were two strangers present in the room, even though they were accompanied by one of the old habitués of the place, was to her a warning that they might not be all right.

It had been Nick's intention to make no demonstration of any kind while he was inside Grinnel's dive; it was his purpose to go there and observe all that he could, and then to go away again without having exchanged a word with any one except Curly, unless it should become absolutely necessary.

He intended – if he should succeed in finding Madge there – to trust to luck and his own ingenuity to follow her when she would leave the place, and so discover where she was living, and by that means he could keep his eye upon her for several days thereafter, and ultimately could round up the gang of crooks which he had no doubt she had organized.

But Madge, although she had no idea that either of the strangers might be Nick Carter, did not intend that these two men should leave that room without passing through some sort of inspection which would serve to identify them for what they might be.

While every one else in that place was thoroughly satisfied about them, because of their presence with Curly, this fact cut no ice with Black Madge, and always suspicious, she was instantly suspicious of them when they entered.

Therefore, a very short time had elapsed after the detectives took their seats at the table, before she left her own place, and crossed the sawdust-covered floor swiftly to Curly's table.

There she slapped him on the shoulder, as a man might have done, and with a laugh, which called the attention of every other person in the room to what she was doing, as she intended it to do, she exclaimed:

"Hello, Curly. It does me good to see you back among us again. How did you put out the lamps of those chaps up in Mulberry Street, so that they let you out?"

Curly, who was wise in his day and generation, jumped to his feet and shook hands heartily with Black Madge; for he guessed instantly that it was not to greet him that she had crossed the floor, but rather to gain a closer view of his companions, and by standing erect he could keep her a little distance without appearing to do so.

"Oh! they just found out they didn't want me," he replied. And then, realizing that something was expected of him by the others in the room, at least, if not Madge herself, he jerked a chair around toward her, and added: "Sit down, Madge, won't you, and have something?"

"Sure," she replied, laughing again, and dropping negligently into the chair.

"What kind of a game are you playing now, Madge?" asked Curly, after he had motioned to the waiter to approach; and then, pausing long enough to give the order, he added: "Last I heard of you you were behind the mosquito bars resting up a bit."

Madge laughed again. She seemed to be full of laughter to-night, but it was an uneasy, imperfect, and significant sort of laughter that Nick Carter had heard from her lips before, and which he, therefore, understood. He realized, now, that it was important that he should proceed with great caution.

"Oh, yes," she said. "Nick Carter did that for me. But I'm out again, just the same, and now my lay is to get square with Nick Carter."

"You don't say so," said Curly, shifting uneasily in his chair, and forgetting himself so far as to cast one furtive glance in the direction of the detective. "What are you going to do to him?"

"Ask me that after I've got him where I want him," replied Madge, fixing her bold eyes full upon Nick Carter's face; and then, slowly removing them, and swinging her body half around until she again faced Curly, she added insinuatingly:

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends, Curly?"

Curly shook his shoulders. He was on safe ground, now, ground where he felt perfectly at home; for it was never necessary to indulge in introductions in that walk of life, not even when they were asked for, but he replied:

"Sure, Madge. These are my two friends, and I guess that'll be about enough. You can call them by any name you want to, and they'll both answer you."

"Under cover?" she asked.

"A little," admitted Curly.

"Are they dumb, or tongue-tied, or have they temporarily lost their voices; or, are they only bashful? I should think that two full-grown men such as they are might be able to speak for themselves."

"It ain't always good taste to speak for yourself," said Curly, with an uneasy laugh. "They might do it once too often."

Madge's suspicions were plainly aroused. She remained silent for a moment after that, and then, leaning forward, she rested her arms upon the table, and with her face thrust well forward over them, again stared into the detective's face.

"Do you know who you are like?" she asked coolly.

"Yes," replied Nick, just as coolly as she had spoken, "I have heard it said often, but if you will take my advice you won't mention the name aloud. It might excite some of the people here."

She laughed.

"That's just what I mean to do," she said, with a tightening of her lips. "They need excitement; that's what they live on. It's what we all live on. It's what we come here to get. Excitement is the backbone and muscle and sinew of our beings. And do you know that I think I could startle them all mightily right now if I should call something out to them which is on my mind to say?"

She reached out her left hand, and seized Curly by the shoulder, pulling him over to her, and then, in a tone which only the three who were present with her could hear, she went on, her voice deadly calm:

"Did you think, Nick Carter, that you could fool Black Madge? Did you think that you could come here into this same room where I am without my knowing instantly who you were? Don't you know that your very presence in the same room with me would make itself known to my sensibilities by reason of the very hate I bear you?"

She paused a moment and laughed uneasily. And then she continued:

"Don't you know, Nick Carter, that you have walked directly into a trap, from which you cannot escape? And were you not aware before you came here that if your identity became known your life wouldn't be worth a moment's purchase? If you so much as quiver an eyelid, Nick Carter, I will call out your name, and point you out as a spy, and you know what that will mean in Mike Grinnel's dive."

CHAPTER XXIII.
BLACK MADGE'S DEFIANCE

It was a crucial moment for each of the three men who were seated at that table, and it affected each of the three quite differently.

Chick was concerned only for the safety of his chief, for even then it did not occur to him that Black Madge had taken sufficient interest in himself to identify him, and that doubtless she still regarded him as really a friend of Curly's.

Curly was plainly frightened, as well as utterly astounded. It had never occurred to him that the disguise of Nick Carter, which had seemed to him to be perfect, would be, or could be, so readily penetrated; and he realized, for the moment, at least, that he was in as much danger as Nick Carter himself, for if it should be known to the others – or should suddenly be made known to them – that Nick Carter was in that room, they would not only kill the detective, but they would also murder the man who had dared to bring him there.

Black Madge was as thoroughly aware of this fact as was Curly himself, and she did the latter justice to believe that somehow he had been imposed upon by the detective, just as Nick had sought to impose upon all of them; in a word, she did not blame Curly for the existing situation.

As for the situation itself, she was delighted with it, for it had thrust Nick Carter into her power much more quickly and certainly than she had ever supposed it could be done.

She had not been seated at the table with them a full minute before she was perfectly assured in her own mind that the man opposite her was Nick Carter, and it did not occur to her to doubt that the other man was one of his assistants – it made no difference to her which one.

And now, while she threatened the detective with death if he should make any overt omission, she was eagerly casting about in her mind how to get him entirely into her power to do with as she would without alarming the others that were present there.

She knew that Nick Carter understood and realized the danger as thoroughly as she did; but she also knew that he was extremely resourceful whenever danger threatened, and that she might only count upon him as captured and overcome entirely when he was bound and gagged, or dead, before her.

As for Nick, when Madge uttered the threat to him, he returned her gaze steadfastly, at the same time reaching out a little farther with the hand that was resting upon the table, and then he replied, quietly and in the same low tone that she had employed:

"I took every one of those things into consideration, Madge, when I came here. Now, I want to know if you intend to shout out that name, and give the alarm, as you have threatened to do, or if you will sit there quietly where you are, pretending to be interested in the drink in front of you, and talk it over calmly."

She shrugged her shoulders, and again leaned back in her chair, but at the same time drawing it a little nearer to the table.

"As you please," she said. "I don't care to precipitate matters and break up the party here unless you force me to do so – at least, not just yet."

"Madge," said Nick, "you think that you have me in your power. You believe that by shouting out my name I would be killed. That is doubtless quite true, but before that killing was accomplished I should have done a little execution on my own account, and Chick, who is here beside me, is quite ready to do his part. As for Curly, he is an innocent party in this affair, so we won't consider him at all, although you must admit that he would have to take the consequences of bringing me here, which would be far from pleasant."

She nodded, and smiled at him fiercely, and then she replied:

"Go on. You were about to tell me that in the sleeve of that arm, which is extended toward me over the table, you hold a weapon with which you could kill me before I could give the alarm a second time. Very well I know it, but all the same I am not afraid of it, Nick Carter, any more than I am afraid of you, and you know that I have never been that."

"I know," said Nick.

"Go on, then," she repeated. "What do you want to talk about? Since you wish to talk things over calmly, what did, you come here for, anyhow?"

"I came," said Nick, "believing that you were in the city, and knowing that I would find you here if you were, I came because I was determined to find out where you were, and to put a stop to your career."

She started savagely, but Nick held up his hand and hushed her.

"I am not going to make any arrests in this place, Madge. I am not going to interfere with Mike Grinnel's business, or with his reputation for affording security to his patrons. If every person in this room was my friend instead of my enemy, you, Madge, would be as free to depart in peace when you get ready to do so as you would have been had I not come here."

"That all sounds very fine," she said, "if only I cared to believe it."

"Believe it or not, as you please, it is the truth."

"And what did you come here for?"

"I have told you that already. I came to find you."

"And, having found me, to let me go away in peace?"

"I have said that also, I believe."

"Nick Carter," she exclaimed, laughing scornfully, "you are not a good liar."

"I never lie," replied Nick.

"Well," she said, "I will speak my little piece, now that you are through. You are here, and there are two locked doors between you and the street, and there are between twenty and thirty men in this room now who would rather be killed than let you escape if they knew you were here. I might as well confess to you that eight of those men belong to me. That is, they obey my orders. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

"I think," replied Nick quietly, and smiling back at her, "that, with your permission, I will order another round of drinks."

She pushed back her chair petulantly from the table, and half started to rise from it, but Nick Carter's voice, low, but sharp, halted her.

"Stop, Madge," he said; "keep your seat. This thing has gone too far for either of us to attempt to fool the other. You might as well understand that if there is to be any row precipitated, I will do the precipitating."

She blazed her eyes at him for an instant, and then parted her lips with the evident intention of shouting out his identity. And, while he did not move to prevent her from doing so, the steady gaze of his eyes somehow overcame her, and she closed them again without making a sound.

"That is better, Madge," he said. "This is a case of diamond cut diamond, only for the moment my diamond is a little harder and sharper than your own. Take my advice, and sit where you are."

Curly and Chick had both been absorbed spectators and listeners to this little scene between the detective and Black Madge.

Chick had, of course, made himself ready at any instant to act, no matter what sort of action might be required.

But Curly was distinctly in a quandary. He knew that it was no fault of Nick's that the discovery had been made, and he also knew that if she was forced to keep silent the identity of Nick Carter would not be discovered by the others present.

If the thing should come to a row, every instinct of Curly's life and profession would force him to take the side of the underworld as against Nick Carter, and his impulse would be that way, too. But his strongest desire at that moment was to prevent an exposure at any cost. It was for this reason that he now intervened.

"Madge," he said, "listen to me for a minute."

"Hello, Curly," she said, turning her head lazily toward him, "it isn't necessary for you to butt in on this affair."

"I am going to butt in, Madge, just the same. Now, listen to me."

"Go on, then."

"You know where I stand, Madge, and there ain't no reason why I should explain how all this came about; or, if you think there is, there ain't going to be any explanation offered anyhow, but the point about it is this: It wouldn't be healthy for you, nor for any of us, if you should yell out a certain name in this present community, and I want to tell you right now that I won't stand for your doing it. It's up to you to keep still, Madge, and mind your own business, for while I should be with the boys as against Nick Carter to the bitter end, if it actually came to a fight, at the same time I'd blame you for the fight, and although you're a woman you would be the first one I'd look for out of this bunch. Now, I've spoken my piece, and you can go on with yours."

This was a development which Madge had not anticipated, but Curly had spoken so plainly to the point, and his premises were so well taken and so logical from his standpoint, that she could offer no objection.

If she could have left the table for a moment; if she could have had time to think, or if she could have secured an opportunity to exchange half a dozen sentences with any one of the members of her Band of Hatred, it would have been different, and she might have planned for the overthrow of the detective.

As it was, the circumstances had arrived at such a condition that leaving her chair would be equivalent – so far as her companions were concerned – to the calling out of Nick Carter's name.

Madge knew Curly John, and she knew him for a man who never made idle threats. His reputation among his fellows was that he spoke very rarely, and said very little when he did speak, but that what he said was always to the point, and that he always meant what he uttered.

And so she saw the tables rather turned upon herself. Instead of Nick Carter being in her power, she was temporarily in his.

The situation had its ludicrous side. Each was in a sense the prisoner of the other, for, while Nick Carter could not hope to escape from that room unless she gave him permission to leave it, she could not rise from the chair upon which she was seated without risking death unless he permitted it.

If only she could have conveyed the shortest kind of a message to Mike Grinnel, or have signaled some word to Slippery, or to Surly Bob, or Gentleman Jim, or Fly Cummings, or Cuthbert, or Maxwell, or The Parson, all of whom were in that room at the time, everything would have been so easy for her.

But she could not leave her chair; neither could she signal to any of these.

Nick Carter's eye was upon her; his arm was extended across the table, and she knew the potency of that arm, as well as something about the strength and fund of resource of the detective.

But the situation was unbearable. She felt that she could not endure it, and that in some manner it would have to be brought to a close, and at once.

And so she leaned still further back in her chair, gradually tilting it until it rested poised upon the two rear legs.

And then, with a sudden motion, and at the same instant uttering a scream, which rang shrilly through the room, she threw herself directly backward, at the same time kicking up her feet and so striking them fiercely against the under side of the table.

The weight of her body and the force with which she struck the table instantly overturned it, bottles, glasses, and all, so that it crashed to the floor in utter confusion.

And at the same instant every one in that room leaped to their feet and reached for their weapons.