dere！〃
  They　were　outside。　　The　Pug　had　disappeared　in　the　darkness。　　Pinkie
  was　closing；　and　evidently　fastening；　the　trap…door。
  〃The　other　way；　Nan！〃　he　flung　out；　as　she　started　to　run。　　〃That
  takes　you　to　the　other　street；　an'　they　can't　get　around　that　way
  without　goin'　around　the　whole　block。　　Me　for　a　fence　I　knows　about；
  an'　we　gives　'em　the　merry　laugh！　　Go　on！〃
  She　ran　…　ran　breathlessly；　stumbling；　half　falling；　her　hands
  stretched　out　before　her　to　serve　almost　in　lieu　of　eyes；　for　she
  could　make　out　scarcely　anything　in　front　of　her。　　She　emerged　upon
  a　street。　　It　seemed　abnormal；　the　quiet；　the　lack　of　commotion；　the
  laughter；　the　unconcern　in　the　voices　of　the　passers…by　among　whom
  she　suddenly　found　herself。　　She　hurried　from　the　neighborhood。
  XI。　　THE　DOOR　ACROSS　THE　HALL
  It　was　many　blocks　away　before　calmness　came　again　to　Rhoda　Gray；
  and　before　it　seemed；　even；　that　her　brain　would　resume　its　normal
  functions；　but　with　the　numbed　horror　once　gone；　there　came　in　its
  place；　like　some　surging　tide；　a　fierce　virility　that　would　not　be
  denied。　　The　money！　　The　old　couple　on　that　doorstep；　stripped　of
  their　all！　　Wasn't　that　one　reason　why　she　had　gone　on　with　Pinkie
  Bonn　and　the　Pug？　　Hadn't　she　seen　a　way；　or　at　least　a　chance；
  to　get　that　money　back？
  Rhoda　Gray　looked　quickly　about　her。　　On　the　corner　ahead　she　saw
  a　drug　store；　and　started　briskly　in　that　direction。　　Yes；　there
  was　a　way！　　The　idea　had　first　come　to　her　from　the　Pug's　remark
  to　Shluker　that；　after　they　had　secured　the　money；　Pinkie　would
  return　with　it　to　the　Pug's　room；　while　the　Pug　would　go　and
  square　things　with　Danglar。　　And　also；　at　the　same　time；　that　same
  remark　of　the　Pug's　had　given　rise　to　a　hope　that　she　might　yet
  trace　Danglar　to　night　through　the　Pug　…　but　the　circumstances　and
  happenings　of　the　last　few　minutes　had　shattered　that　hope　utterly。
  And　so　there　remained　the　money。　　And；　as　she　had　walked　with　Pinkie
  and　the　Pug　a　little　while　ago；　knowing　that　Pinkie　would；　if　they
  were　successful；　carry　the　money　back　to　the　Pug's　room；　just　as
  was　being　done　now　precisely　in　accordance　with　the　Pug's　original
  intentions；　she　had　thought　of　the　Adventurer。　　It　had　seemed　the
  only　way　then；　it　seemed　the　only　way　now　…　despite　the　fact　that
  she　would　be　hard　put　to　it　to　answer　the　Adventurer　if　he　thought
  to　ask　her　how；　or　by　what　means；　she　was　in　possession　of　the
  information　that　enabled　her　to　communicate　with　him。　　But　she　must
  risk　that　…　put　him　off；　if　necessary；　through　the　plea　of　haste；
  and　on　the　ground　that　there　was　not　time　to…night　for　an　unnecessary
  word。　　He　had　given　her；　believing　her　to　be　Gypsy　Nan；　his　telephone
  number；　which　she；　in　turn；　was　to　transmit　to　the　White　Moll　…　in
  other　words；　herself！　　But　the　White　Moll；　so　he　believed；　had　never
  received　that　message　…　and　it　must　of　necessity　be　as　the　White
  Moll　that　she　must　communicate　with　him　to…night！　　It　would　be　hard
  to　explain　…　she　meant　to　evade　it。　　The　one　vital　point　was　that
  she　remembered　the　telephone　number　he　had　given　her　that　night　when
  he　and　Danglar　had　met　in　the　garret。　　She　was　not　likely　to　have
  forgotten　it！
  Rhoda　Gray；　alias　Gypsy　Nan；　scuffled　along。　　Was　she　inconsistent？
  The　Adventurer　would　be　in　his　element　in　going　to　the　Pug's　room；
  and　in　relieving　Pinkie　Bonn　of　that　money；　but　the　Adventurer；　too；
  was　a　thief…wasn't　he？　　Why；　then；　did　she　propose；　for　her　mind
  was　now　certainly　made　up　as　to　her　course　of　action；　to　trust　a
  thief　to　recover　that　money　for　her？
  She　smiled　a　little　wearily　as　she　reached　the　drug　store；　stepped
  into　the　telephone　booth；　and　gave　central　her　call。　　Trust　a　thief！
  No；　it　wasn't　because　her　heart　prompted　her　to　believe　in　him；　it
  was　because　her　head　assured　her　she　was　safe　in　doing　so。　　She
  could　trust　him　in　an　instance　such　as　this　because　…　well；　because
  once　before；　for　her　sake　he　had　foregone　the　opportunity　of
  appropriating　a　certain　diamond　necklace　worth　a　hundred　times　the
  sum　that　she　would　ask　him　…　yes；　if　necessary；　for　her　sake　…　to
  recover　to…night。　　There　was　no。。。
  She　was　listening　in　a　startled　way　now　at　the　instrument。　　Central
  had　given　her　〃information〃；　and　〃information〃　was　informing　her
  that　the　number　she　had　asked　for　had　been　disconnected。
  She　hung　up　the　receiver；　and　went　out　again　to　the　street　in　a
  dazed　and　bewildered　way。　　And　then　suddenly　a　smile　of　bitter
  self…derision　crossed　her　lips。　　She　had　been　a　fool！　　There　was　no
  softer　word　…　a　fool！　　Why　had　she　not　stopped　to　think？　　She
  understood　now！　　On　the　night　the　Adventurer　had　confided　that
  telephone　number　to　her　as　Gypsy　Nan；　he　had　had　every　reason　to
  believe　that　Gypsy　Nan　would；　as　she　had　already　apparently　done；
  befriend　the　White　Moll　even　to　the　extent　of　accepting　no　little
  personal　risk　in　so　doing。　　But　since　then　things　had　taken　a　very
  different　turn。　　The　White　Moll　was　now　held　by　the　gang；　of　which
  Gypsy　Nan　was　supposed　to　be　a　member；　to　be　the　one　who　had　of　late
  profited　by　the　gang's　plans　to　the　gang's　discomfiture；　and　the
  Adventurer　was　ranked　but　little　lower　in　the　scale　of　hatred；　since
  they　counted　him　to　be　the　White　Moll's　accomplice。　　Knowing　this；
  therefore；　the　first　thing　the　Adventurer　would　naturally　do　would
  be　to　destroy　the　clew；　in　the　shape　of　that　telephone　number；　that
  would　lead　to　his　whereabouts；　and　which　he　of　course　believed　he
  had　put　into　the　gang's　hands　when　he　had　confided　in　Gypsy　Nan。
  Had　he　not　told　her；　no　later　than　last　night；　that　Gypsy　Nan　was
  her　worst　enemy？　　He　did　not　know；　did　he；　that　Gypsy　Nan　and　the
  White　Moll　were　one！　　And　so　that　telephone　had　been　disconnected
  …　and　to…night；　now；　just　when　she　needed　help　at　a　crucial　moment；
  when　she　had　counted　upon　the　Adventurer　to　supply　it；　there　was　no
  Adventurer；　no　means　of　reaching　him；　and　no　means　any　more　of
  knowing　where　he　was！
  Rhoda　Gray　walked　on　along　the　street；　her　lips　tight；　her　face
  drawn　and　hard。　　Failing　the　Adventurer；　there　remained　…　the　police。
  If　she　telephoned　the　police　and　sent　them　to　the　Pug's　room；　they
  would　of　a　certainty　recover　the　money；　and　with　equal　certainty
  restore　it　to　its　rightful　owners。　　She　had　already　thought　of　that
  when　she　had　been　with　Pinkie　and　the　Pug；　and　had　been　loath　even
  then　to　take　such　a　step　because　it　seemed　to　spell　ruin　to　her　own
  personal　plans；　but　now　there　was　another　reason；　and　one　far　more
  cogent；　why　she　should　not　do　so。　　There　had　been　murder　committed
  back　there　in　that　underground　drug…dive；　and　of　that　murder　Pinkie
  Bonn　was　innocent；　but　if　Pinkie　were　found　in　possession　of　that
  money；　and　French　Pete；　to　save　his　own　skin　from　the　consequences
  of　a　greater　crime；　admitted　to　its　original　theft；　Pinkie　would　be
  convicted　out　of　hand；　for　there　were　the　others　in　that　dive；　who
  had　come　running　along　the　passage；　to　testify　that　an　attack　had
  been　made　on　the　door　of　French　Pete　and　Marny　Day's　room；　and　that
  the　thieves　and　murderers　had　fled　through　the　cellar　and　escaped。
  Her　lips　pressed　harder　together。　　And　so　there　was　no　Adventurer
  upon　whom　she　could　call；　and　no　police；　and　no　one　in　all　the
  millions　in　this　great　pulsing　city　to　whom　she　could　appeal；　and
  so　there　remained　only　…　herself。
  Well；　she　could　do　it；　couldn't　she？　　Not　as　Gypsy　Nan；　of　course
  …　but　as　the　White　Moll。　　It　would　be　worth　it；　wouldn't　it？　　If
  she　were　sincere；　and　not　a　moral　hypocrite　in　her　sympathy　for
  those　two　outraged　old　people　in　the　twilight　of　their　lives；　and
  if　she　were　not　a　moral　coward；　there　remained　no　question　as　to
  what　her　decision　should　be。
  Her　mind　began　to　mull　over　the　details。　　Subconsciously；　since
  the　moment　she　had　made　her　escape　from　that　cellar；　she　found　now
  that　she　had　been　walking　in　the　direction　of　the　garret　that
  sheltered　her　as　Gypsy　Nan。　　In　another　five　minutes　she　could
  reach　that　deserted　shed　in　the　lane　behind　Gypsy　Nan's　house　where
  her　own　clothes　were　hidden；　and　it　would　take　her　but　a　very　few
  minutes　more　to　effect　the　transformation　from　Gypsy　Nan　to　the
  White　Moll。　　And　then；　in　another　ten　minutes；　she　should　be　back
  again　at　the　Pug's　room。　　The　Pug　had　said　he　would　not　be　much　more
  than　half　an　hour；　but；　as　nearly　as　she　could　calculate　it；　that
  would　still　give　her　from　five　to　ten　minutes　alone　with　Pinkie
  Bonn。　　It　was　enough　…　more　than　enough。　　The　prestige　of　the　White
  Moll　would　do　the　rest。　　A　revolver　in　the　hands　of　the　White　Moll
  would　insure　instant　and　obedient　respect　from　Pinkie　Bonn；　or　any
  other　member　of　the　gang　under　similar　conditions。　　And　so　…　and　so
  …　it　…　would　not　be　difficult。　　Only　there　was　a　queer　fluttering
  at　her　heart　now；　and　her　breath　came　in　hard；　short　little
  inhalations。　　And　she　spoke　suddenly　to　herself：
  〃I'm　glad；〃　she　whispered；　〃I'm　glad　I　saw　those　two　old　faces　on
  that　doorstep；　because　…　because；　if　I　hadn't；　I　…　I　would　be　afraid。〃
  The　minutes　passed。　　The　dissolute　figure　of　an　old　hag　disappeared；
  like　a　deeper　shadow　in　the　blackness　of　a　lane；　through　the　broken
  door　of　a　deserted　shed；　presently　a　slim；　neat　little　figure；
  heavily　veiled；　eme