. "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. "There are two men in our organization from whom it is
absolutely impossible that that leak could have come. Those two men
followed you from Perlmer's office to this place. They are in the next
room now waiting for me to get through with you, and ready for anything
if they are needed. But they won't be needed. That's not the way it
works out. This gun won't make much noise, and it isn't likely to arouse
the inmates of this dive, but even if it does, it doesn't matter very
much--we aren't going out by the front door. The two of them, the minute
they hear the shot, slip in here, and lock the door--you see it's got a
good, husky bolt on it--and then we beat it by the fire escape that
runs past that window there. Get the idea? And don't kid yourself into
thinking that I am taking any risk with the consequences on account of
the coroner having got busy because a man was found here dead on the
floor. Nicky Viner stands for that. It isn't the first time he's been
suspected of murder. See? Nicky was easy. He'd crawl on his hands and
knees from the Battery to Harlem any time if you held a little money
in front of his nose. He's been fooled up to the eyes with a faked-up
message that he's to deliver secretly to some faked-up crooks out West.
He's just about starting away on the train now. And that's where the
police nab him--running away from the murder he's pulled in his room
here to-night. Looks kind of bad for Nicky Viner--eh? We should worry!
It cost a hundred dollars and his ticket. Cheap, wasn't it? I guess
you're worth that much to us."

A dull horror seized upon Rhoda Gray. It seemed to clog and confuse
her mind. She fought it frantically, striving to think, and to think
clearly. Every detail seemed to have been planned with Satanic foresight
and ingenuity, and yet--and yet--Yes, in one little thing, Danglar had
made a mistake. That was why she was here now; that was why those men in
that next room had not been out in the hall on guard, or even out in the
street on watch for her. Danglar had naturally gone upon the supposition
that the Adventurer and herself worked hand in glove; whereas they were
as much in t