insistently in her ears. The sweet, piquant little face set in
hard, determined lines. Mechanically she picked up the flashlight and a
package of the banknotes, lowered the board in the ceiling into place,
and returned to Gypsy Nan.

"I'm ready, if there is no other way," she said soberly, as she watched
the other tuck the money away inside her waist. "I said I would see you
through, and I will. But I doubt if you are strong enough, even with
what help I can give you, to get down the stairs, and even if you can, I
am afraid with all my soul of the consequences to you, and--"

Gypsy Nan blew out the candle, and staggered to her feet.

"There isn't any other way." She leaned heavily on Rhoda Gray's arm.
"Can't you see that? Don't you think I know? Haven't you seen enough
here to convince you of that? I--I'm just spilling the dice for--for
perhaps the last time--but it's the only chance--the only chance. Go
on!" she urged tremulously. "Shoot the glim, and get me to the door.
And--and for the love of God, don't make a sound! It's all up if we're
seen going out!"

The flashlight's ray danced in crazy gyrations as the two figures swayed
and crept across the garret. Rhoda Gray unlocked the door, and, as they
passed out, locked it again on the outside.

"Hide the key!" whispered Gypsy Nan. "See--that crack in the floor under
the partition! Slip it in there!"

The flashlight guiding her, Rhoda Gray stooped down to where, between
the rough attic flooring and the equally rough boarding of the garret
partition, there was a narrow space. She pushed the key in out of sight;
and then, with her arm around Gypsy Nan's waist, and with the flashlight
at cautious intervals winking ahead of her through the darkness, she
began to descend the stairs.

It was slow work, desperately slow, both because they dared not make
the slightest noise, and because, too, as far as strength was concerned,
Gypsy Nan was close to the end of her endurance. Down one flight, and
then the other, they went, resting at every few steps, leaning back
against the wall, black shadows that merged with the blackness around
them, the flashlight used only when necessity compelled it, lest its
gleam might attract the attention of some other occupant of the house.
And at times Gypsy Nan's head lay cheek to Rhoda Gray's, and the other's
body grew limp and became a great weight, so heavy that it seemed she
could no longer support it.

They gained the street door, hun