Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 20, 2025
She would even have given a good deal to know who he really was, and how he, too, came to be so conversant with Danglar's plans as fast as they were matured, and why, on those two particular occasions, he had not only gone out of his way to be of service to her, but had done so at very grave risk to himself. Of course, she was interested in him in that way. How could she help it?
She seemed to be held in thrall by both terror and a sickening dismay. It did not seem real, her surroundings here, this man, and the voice that was gloatingly pronouncing the death sentence upon the man who had come unbidden into her life, and into her heart, the man she loved. Yes, she understood! Danglar's words had been plain enough.
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.
Danglar's life, or the Adventurer's! But she shrank from taking life. Her lips were breathing a prayer. They had called her a crack shot back there in South America, when she had hunted and ridden with her father.
Better anything than to fall into Danglar's hands! She caught her breath a little, and shivered again as she groped her way up the dark stairs. But, then, she never would fall into Danglar's power. There was always an alternative. Yes, it was quite as bad as that death at her own hands was preferable.
"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.
Rhoda Gray's eyes went back to the deformed creature at Danglar's side, as the man laughed out abruptly. "Yes," grinned Matty Danglar, "and they weren't in the empty money-belt that you beat it with like a scared cat after croaking Deemer!" How queer and dim the light seemed to go suddenly or was it a blur before her own eyes? She said nothing.
And she stumbled as she went along. But it was not the physical inability to see that made her stumble it was a brain-blindness that fogged her soul itself. His wife! Gypsy Nan was Danglar's wife. Danglar's wife!
It was easy enough to hit Danglar, but that might mean Danglar's life; it was not so easy to hit Danglar's arm, or Danglar's hand, or the revolver Danglar held, and if she risked that and missed, she... "Thr " There was the roar of a report that went racketing through the silence like a cannon shot, and the short, vicious tongue-flame from Rhoda Gray's revolver muzzle stabbed through the black.
There was a scream of mingled surprise and fury, and the revolver in Danglar's hand clattered to the floor.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking