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Updated: June 27, 2025
The Adventurer needed both time and an alibi, and also he required an excuse for making Pinkie Bonn the custodian of the stolen money, and of getting Pinkie alone with that money in the Pug's room. Going to Danglar supplied all this.
She darted across the hall to the opposite side from that of the Pug's room, because on that side the opening of the door would not necessarily expose her, and crouched down in the corner. It was black here, perhaps black enough to escape observation. She listened, her heart beating wildly. The voices outside continued. Why were they lingering there?
Catch me setting her pug's leg again," ended Mac with a grim shake of the head. "Never mind. You were unfortunate in your listener that time. Don't think all girls are so foolish. I can show you a dozen sensible ones who would discuss dress reform and charity with you and enjoy Greek tragedy if you did the chorus for them as you did for me," said Rose consolingly, for Steve would only jeer.
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.
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.
What was taking place in the Pug's room between Pinkie Bonn and the Adventurer she did not know. But the Adventurer was obviously on one of his marauding expeditions, and he might stay there no more than a minute or two once he found out that he had been forestalled. She must hurry hurry! She felt her way forward in what she believed to be the direction of the window. She ran against the bed.
Oh, what a horrid place, what horrid folks, what a perfectly fiendish cat!" shrieked Kate, folding both arms tight about the pug's fat, squirming body, and rushing out-of-doors with him. But by this time his courage had returned, and, wriggling himself free, he rushed back to the battle. Alas! that exciting affair was all over.
There was no time to reach the sanctuary of the other room the footsteps were already crossing the threshold from the head of the stairs. And then a voice reached her the Pug's. It was the Pug and Pinkie Bonn. "Strike a light, Pinkie! Dere's no use messin' around wid a flash. De old geezer'll be back on de hop de minute he finds out he's been bunked, an' de quicker we work de better."
A politely disposed person would have called him a retriever, and his curly back and general appearance might have carried this off, but for his tail, which, instead of being straight and rat-like, was as plumy as the Prince of Wales's feathers, and curled unblushingly over his back, sideways, like a pug's.
We waited until he showed up again as the Pug, and then we put over a frame-up deal on him that got him to go over to that old iron plant in Harlem, you know, behind Jake Malley's saloon, where we had it fixed to hand Cloran his last night and the Pug's there now. He's nicely gagged, and tied, and quite safe.
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