The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-04-01

| the garage uooT, ASten1ngp peer1ng furtively outside. The street itself
 was empty; there were shouts, though, from the direction of the | Avenue.
 She stepped out on the side street. 1 and walking composedly that she 1 might not attract attention, though | every impulse urged her to run with | frantic haste, she reached the corner | and the waiting taxicab. She gave | the chauffeur an address that would
 bring her to the street in the rear | of Gypsy Mans and within reach of l the lane where she had left her
 clothes and, with an injunction to
 hurry, sprang into the cab.
 1 And then for long time she sat | there with her hands tightly c1asped | in her lap. Her mind, her brain, her 1 very soul itself seemed in chaos and turmoil. There was the Sparrow, | who was safe; and Danglar, who | would move heaven and hell to get | her now; and the Adventurer, who
 -Her mind seemed to grop around | in cycles; it seemed to moil on and on and arrive at nothing. The Ad- | venturer had played the game-per- | haps because he had had to; but he l had not riSked that revolver shot in her stead-because he had had to. Who was he? How had he come 1 there? How had he found her there |? How had he known that she had en- | tered by that rear door behind the | portfere? She remembered how that | he had offered not a single exp1ana- ton.
 Almost mechanically she dismissed the taxi when at last it stopped; ; | and almost mechanically, as Gypsy | Nan, some ten minutes later, she let | herself into the garret, and lighted | the candle She was conscious, as | she hid the White Molls clothes away, that she was thankful she had | regained in safety even the question able sanctuary of this wretched place; but, strangely curiously, thoughts of her own peril seemed somehow to be | temporarily relegated to the back ground.
 She flung herself down on the bed it was not Gypsy Mans habit to | undress-and blew out the light But she could not sleep. And hour after hour in the darkness she tossed un- restfully. It was very strange! It | was not as it had been last night. It was not the impotent, frantic rebel | lion against the horrors of her own situation. nor the fear and terror of 1 it, that obsessed her tonight. It was l'the Adventurer who plagued her. VIII
 THE CODE MESSAGE It was strange! Most strangel Three days had passed. and to Gypsy Nan's lodging no one had come. The small crack under the partition that had been impressed into service as a, lletter-box had remained empty. There had been no messages-noth- ing-on1y a sinister, breeding isola- ton. Since the night Rhoda Gray | had left Danglar. baked. almost g. Iii f,1,s dro over Shluker's junk shop. Danglar had not been seen-nor the Adven- turer-nor even Rough Rorke. Her only visitant since then had been an ugly premonition om impending peril, which came and stalked like 8 hideous ghost about the bare and miserable garret, and which woke her at night with it's whispering voice-which was the voice of intui- tion.
 Rhoda Gray drew her shawl closer around her shoulders and shiv- cred. as now. from shuffling down the block in the guise of Gypsy Nan, she halted before the street door of what fate, for the moment, had thrust upon her as 8 home; and shivered again, as, with ahborrence, she push ed the door open and, stepped for ward into the black, unlighted hall
 
 revolt tonight. Even faith, the sim pie faith in God that she had known since childhood, was wavering. There seemed nothing but horror around her, mental horror, a physical hor- TOT; and the sole means of even mo- mentary relief and surcease from 1t had been a pitiful proving around the streets, where even the fresh air seemed to be denied to her, for it was
 
 that ruled, rampant. in that neigh borhood.
 And tonight. stronger than ever, intuition and premonition of ap- preaching danger lay heavy upon her, and oppressed her with a sense of nearness. She was not a coward; but she was afraid. Danglar would leave no stone unturned to get the White MoH. He had said so. She remembered the threat he had made it had lived in her woman's soul ever since that night. Better any thing than to fall into DangIar's hands! She caught ner breath a lit tie, and shivered again as she groped her way up the dark stairs. But, then, she never would fall into Dang lars power. There was always an alternative. Yes, it was quite as bad as that-death at her own hands was preferable. Baked, outwitted. the plans of the criminal coterie. Of which Danglar appeared to be the head, rendered again and again ab- ortfVe, and believing it all due to the White Moll. all of Danglars shrewd, interruptions cunning would be cen- tered on the task of running her down; and if, added to this, he dis covered that she was maSquerading as Gypsy Nan. one of their own in- ner circle, it mean that She closed her lips in a hard, tight line. She did not want to think of it. She had fought all day, and the days before against thinking about 1t, but pre- monition had crepf upon her strong CT and stronger, until tonight, now, it seems as though her mind could dwell on nothing else.
 On the landing. she paused sud- denly and listened. The street door had opened and closed. and now a footstep sounded on the stairs be-