AT MIKE GRINNEL'S DIVE.
When Curly John knocked at the door of the Sunday-night entrance to Mike
Grinnel's dive in a peculiar manner, that was evidently full of
significance to the one behind it, it opened instantly, and the burly
form of the bouncer of the establishment was discovered.
His face, which might have been a stone mask for all the expression it
manifested when he first appeared, beamed with joy, however, when he
discovered Curly John, and thrust out his big hamlike fist with
undoubted enthusiasm.
"Hello, Curly," he said. "I thought you were in limbo."
"And so I was," replied Curly, "until they discovered that they didn't
want me."
"Make up their minds that you wasn't in that little affair, eh?"
"That's the size of it, Red. Here's my two friends that I brought with
me. Some one you don't know, and they ain't either of them known inside,
either. Do you let them pass?"
"Sure, Curly. I lets them pass, if you say so."
"Come, lads," said Curly, without vouchsafing any further statement to
the guard at the door; and so it was that the way was open for the two
detectives to enter upon the mysteries of that infamous retreat where it
was the proprietor's boast that no police officer had ever appeared
without his own expressed permission.
The big room where the patrons congregated on Sunday night was
comfortably filled when Nick Carter entered it with his two companions.
In all that place there were only two tables unoccupied, and one of
those was almost directly in the centre of the room. Curly led the way
to it at once, and the three seated themselves around it while the bank
burglar sent out his order for the refreshments that were required.
Nick and Chick had made the necessary changes in their appearance; and
each assumed the outward character and general aspect of a person who
would be likely to frequent such a place as Grinnel's.
Nick Carter was always a thorough believer in the maxim that too much
disguise was worse than none at all, and therefore, when the occasion
required that he should assume one, it was his habit to do as little
real disguising as possible, and therefore, with the exception of giving
himself a black eye, and blocking out a couple of his teeth, fixing his
face so that it appeared as though there was a couple days' growth of
beard upon it, and donning a rough-looking costume, he was unchanged.
In a place like Mike Grinnel's no man thought of taking off his hat
unless his head was too warm, and therefore Nick kept his on with the
brim pulled down well over his eyes.
The mere fact that the two detectives were in the company of Curly John
was sufficient voucher for their personalities, and it did not occur to
anybody, not even to Mike Grinnel himself, to question them.
They were there; they were with Curly John; he had brought them, and
that was enough. And, although there were many expressions of welcome
spoken and called out to Curly John when he passed into the room and
took his seat at the table, nobody in all that throng offered to
approach him, for it was an unwritten law of the underworld that a man
who reappears for the first time among his associates after imprisonment
is left alone to make his own advances when he is pleased to do so.
As for the two strangers who accompanied him, their presence did not
concern the others, so long as Curly John vouched for them.
If they thought anything about it at all, they assumed that the burglar
was preparing for another professional trip, and that the two strangers
were interested in his plans. They all regarded it as none of their
affair, and in the underworld it is the rule of life to mind your own
business, and let other people do the same.
As soon as the detective had taken his seat--which he was careful to do
in such a position that he could command a view of the greater part of
the room without perceptibly turning his head--he began, little by
little, and one by one, to study the people who were there.
At first he paid no attention whatever to the men; but, since it was a
fact that more than half of the guests, or patrons, or whatever you
please to call them, were women, and as there were at least sixty
persons present, it was some time before his eyes rested upon the face
that he sought.
But Madge was there without question. She had not thought it necessary
to attempt any disguise of any sort, and her bold, black eyes were
roving restlessly about the room when Nick Carter encountered them.
But his own were so thoroughly shaded by the wide brim of the slouch hat
he wore that he did not believe that she knew he was looking at her.
In this manner he studied her for some time, and discovered that she was
furtively watching Curly John and the two who had come there with him.
It was apparent to the detective that Black Madge had not overcome her
old habit of suspecting everybody; and the mere fact that there were two
strangers present in the room, even though they were accompanied by one
of the old habitues of the place, was to her a warning that they might
not be all right.
It had been Nick's intention to make no demonstration of any kind while
he was inside Grinnel's dive; it was his purpose to go there and observe
all that he could, and then to go away again without having exchanged a
word with any one except Curly, unless it should become absolutely
necessary.
He intended--if he should succeed in finding Madge there--to trust to
luck and his own ingenuity to follow her when she would leave the place,
and so discover where she was living, and by that means he could keep
his eye upon her for several days thereafter, and ultimately could round
up the gang of crooks which he had no doubt she had organized.
But Madge, although she had no idea that either of the strangers might
be Nick Carter, did not intend that these two men should leave that room
without passing through some sort of inspection which would serve to
identify them for what they might be.
While every one else in that place was thoroughly satisfied about them,
because of their presence with Curly, this fact cut no ice with Black
Madge, and always suspicious, she was instantly suspicious of them when
they entered.
Therefore, a very short time had elapsed after the detectives took their
seats at the table, before she left her own place, and crossed the
sawdust-covered floor swiftly to Curly's table.
There she slapped him on the shoulder, as a man might have done, and
with a laugh, which called the attention of every other person in the
room to what she was doing, as she intended it to do, she exclaimed:
"Hello, Curly. It does me good to see you back among us again. How did
you put out the lamps of those chaps up in Mulberry Street, so that they
let you out?"
Curly, who was wise in his day and generation, jumped to his feet and
shook hands heartily with Black Madge; for he guessed instantly that it
was not to greet him that she had crossed the floor, but rather to gain
a closer view of his companions, and by standing erect he could keep her
a little distance without appearing to do so.
"Oh! they just found out they didn't want me," he replied. And then,
realizing that something was expected of him by the others in the room,
at least, if not Madge herself, he jerked a chair around toward her, and
added: "Sit down, Madge, won't you, and have something?"
"Sure," she replied, laughing again, and dropping negligently into the
chair.
"What kind of a game are you playing now, Madge?" asked Curly, after he
had motioned to the waiter to approach; and then, pausing long enough
to give the order, he added: "Last I heard of you you were behind the
mosquito bars resting up a bit."
Madge laughed again. She seemed to be full of laughter to-night, but it
was an uneasy, imperfect, and significant sort of laughter that Nick
Carter had heard from her lips before, and which he, therefore,
understood. He realized, now, that it was important that he should
proceed with great caution.
"Oh, yes," she said. "Nick Carter did that for me. But I'm out again,
just the same, and now my lay is to get square with Nick Carter."
"You don't say so," said Curly, shifting uneasily in his chair, and
forgetting himself so far as to cast one furtive glance in the direction
of the detective. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Ask me that after I've got him where I want him," replied Madge, fixing
her bold eyes full upon Nick Carter's face; and then, slowly removing
them, and swinging her body half around until she again faced Curly, she
added insinuatingly:
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends, Curly?"
Curly shook his shoulders. He was on safe ground, now, ground where he
felt perfectly at home; for it was never necessary to indulge in
introductions in that walk of life, not even when they were asked for,
but he replied:
"Sure, Madge. These are my two friends, and I guess that'll be about
enough. You can call them by any name you want to, and they'll both
answer you."
"Under cover?" she asked.
"A little," admitted Curly.
"Are they dumb, or tongue-tied, or have they temporarily lost their
voices; or, are they only bashful? I should think that two full-grown
men such as they are might be able to speak for themselves."
"It ain't always good taste to speak for yourself," said Curly, with an
uneasy laugh. "They might do it once too often."
Madge's suspicions were plainly aroused. She remained silent for a
moment after that, and then, leaning forward, she rested her arms upon
the table, and with her face thrust well forward over them, again stared
into the detective's face.
"Do you know who you are like?" she asked coolly.
"Yes," replied Nick, just as coolly as she had spoken, "I have heard it
said often, but if you will take my advice you won't mention the name
aloud. It might excite some of the people here."
She laughed.
"That's just what I mean to do," she said, with a tightening of her
lips. "They need excitement; that's what they live on. It's what we all
live on. It's what we come here to get. Excitement is the backbone and
muscle and sinew of our beings. And do you know that I think I could
startle them all mightily right now if I should call something out to
them which is on my mind to say?"
She reached out her left hand, and seized Curly by the shoulder, pulling
him over to her, and then, in a tone which only the three who were
present with her could hear, she went on, her voice deadly calm:
"Did you think, Nick Carter, that you could fool Black Madge? Did you
think that you could come here into this same room where I am without my
knowing instantly who you were? Don't you know that your very presence
in the same room with me would make itself known to my sensibilities by
reason of the very hate I bear you?"
She paused a moment and laughed uneasily. And then she continued:
"Don't you know, Nick Carter, that you have walked directly into a trap,
from which you cannot escape? And were you not aware before you came
here that if your identity became known your life wouldn't be worth a
moment's purchase? If you so much as quiver an eyelid, Nick Carter, I
will call out your name, and point you out as a spy, and you know what
that will mean in Mike Grinnel's dive."