CHAPTER XXIII.

BLACK MADGE'S DEFIANCE.

It was a crucial moment for each of the three men who were seated at

that table, and it affected each of the three quite differently.

Chick was concerned only for the safety of his chief, for even then it

did not occur to him that Black Madge had taken sufficient interest in

himself to identify him, and that doubtless she still regarded him as

really a friend of Curly's.

Curly was plainly frightened, as well as utterly astounded. It had never

occurred to him that the disguise of Nick Carter, which had seemed to

him to be perfect, would be, or could be, so readily penetrated; and he

realized, for the moment, at least, that he was in as much danger as

Nick Carter himself, for if it should be known to the others--or should

suddenly be made known to them--that Nick Carter was in that room, they

would not only kill the detective, but they would also murder the man

who had dared to bring him there.

Black Madge was as thoroughly aware of this fact as was Curly himself,

and she did the latter justice to believe that somehow he had been

imposed upon by the detective, just as Nick had sought to impose upon

all of them; in a word, she did not blame Curly for the existing

situation.

As for the situation itself, she was delighted with it, for it had

thrust Nick Carter into her power much more quickly and certainly than

she had ever supposed it could be done.

She had not been seated at the table with them a full minute before she

was perfectly assured in her own mind that the man opposite her was Nick

Carter, and it did not occur to her to doubt that the other man was one

of his assistants--it made no difference to her which one.

And now, while she threatened the detective with death if he should make

any overt omission, she was eagerly casting about in her mind how to get

him entirely into her power to do with as she would without alarming the

others that were present there.

She knew that Nick Carter understood and realized the danger as

thoroughly as she did; but she also knew that he was extremely

resourceful whenever danger threatened, and that she might only count

upon him as captured and overcome entirely when he was bound and gagged,

or dead, before her.

As for Nick, when Madge uttered the threat to him, he returned her gaze

steadfastly, at the same time reaching out a little farther with the

hand that was resting upon the table, and then he replied, quietly and

in the same low tone that she had employed:

"I took every one of those things into consideration, Madge, when I came

here. Now, I want to know if you intend to shout out that name, and give

the alarm, as you have threatened to do, or if you will sit there

quietly where you are, pretending to be interested in the drink in front

of you, and talk it over calmly."

She shrugged her shoulders, and again leaned back in her chair, but at

the same time drawing it a little nearer to the table.

"As you please," she said. "I don't care to precipitate matters and

break up the party here unless you force me to do so--at least, not just

yet."

"Madge," said Nick, "you think that you have me in your power. You

believe that by shouting out my name I would be killed. That is

doubtless quite true, but before that killing was accomplished I should

have done a little execution on my own account, and Chick, who is here

beside me, is quite ready to do his part. As for Curly, he is an

innocent party in this affair, so we won't consider him at all, although

you must admit that he would have to take the consequences of bringing

me here, which would be far from pleasant."

She nodded, and smiled at him fiercely, and then she replied:

"Go on. You were about to tell me that in the sleeve of that arm, which

is extended toward me over the table, you hold a weapon with which you

could kill me before I could give the alarm a second time. Very well I

know it, but all the same I am not afraid of it, Nick Carter, any more

than I am afraid of you, and you know that I have never been that."

"I know," said Nick.

"Go on, then," she repeated. "What do you want to talk about? Since you

wish to talk things over calmly, what did, you come here for, anyhow?"

"I came," said Nick, "believing that you were in the city, and knowing

that I would find you here if you were, I came because I was determined

to find out where you were, and to put a stop to your career."

She started savagely, but Nick held up his hand and hushed her.

"I am not going to make any arrests in this place, Madge. I am not going

to interfere with Mike Grinnel's business, or with his reputation for

affording security to his patrons. If every person in this room was my

friend instead of my enemy, you, Madge, would be as free to depart in

peace when you get ready to do so as you would have been had I not come

here."

"That all sounds very fine," she said, "if only I cared to believe it."

"Believe it or not, as you please, it is the truth."

"And what did you come here for?"

"I have told you that already. I came to find you."

"And, having found me, to let me go away in peace?"

"I have said that also, I believe."

"Nick Carter," she exclaimed, laughing scornfully, "you are not a good

liar."

"I never lie," replied Nick.

"Well," she said, "I will speak my little piece, now that you are

through. You are here, and there are two locked doors between you and

the street, and there are between twenty and thirty men in this room now

who would rather be killed than let you escape if they knew you were

here. I might as well confess to you that eight of those men belong to

me. That is, they obey my orders. Now, what are you going to do about

it?"

"I think," replied Nick quietly, and smiling back at her, "that, with

your permission, I will order another round of drinks."

She pushed back her chair petulantly from the table, and half started to

rise from it, but Nick Carter's voice, low, but sharp, halted her.

"Stop, Madge," he said; "keep your seat. This thing has gone too far for

either of us to attempt to fool the other. You might as well understand

that if there is to be any row precipitated, I will do the

precipitating."

She blazed her eyes at him for an instant, and then parted her lips with

the evident intention of shouting out his identity. And, while he did

not move to prevent her from doing so, the steady gaze of his eyes

somehow overcame her, and she closed them again without making a sound.

"That is better, Madge," he said. "This is a case of diamond cut

diamond, only for the moment my diamond is a little harder and sharper

than your own. Take my advice, and sit where you are."

Curly and Chick had both been absorbed spectators and listeners to this

little scene between the detective and Black Madge.

Chick had, of course, made himself ready at any instant to act, no

matter what sort of action might be required.

But Curly was distinctly in a quandary. He knew that it was no fault of

Nick's that the discovery had been made, and he also knew that if she

was forced to keep silent the identity of Nick Carter would not be

discovered by the others present.

If the thing should come to a row, every instinct of Curly's life and

profession would force him to take the side of the underworld as against

Nick Carter, and his impulse would be that way, too. But his strongest

desire at that moment was to prevent an exposure at any cost. It was for

this reason that he now intervened.

"Madge," he said, "listen to me for a minute."

"Hello, Curly," she said, turning her head lazily toward him, "it isn't

necessary for you to butt in on this affair."

"I am going to butt in, Madge, just the same. Now, listen to me."

"Go on, then."

"You know where I stand, Madge, and there ain't no reason why I should

explain how all this came about; or, if you think there is, there ain't

going to be any explanation offered anyhow, but the point about it is

this: It wouldn't be healthy for you, nor for any of us, if you should

yell out a certain name in this present community, and I want to tell

you right now that I won't stand for your doing it. It's up to you to

keep still, Madge, and mind your own business, for while I should be

with the boys as against Nick Carter to the bitter end, if it actually

came to a fight, at the same time I'd blame you for the fight, and

although you're a woman you would be the first one I'd look for out of

this bunch. Now, I've spoken my piece, and you can go on with yours."

This was a development which Madge had not anticipated, but Curly had

spoken so plainly to the point, and his premises were so well taken and

so logical from his standpoint, that she could offer no objection.

If she could have left the table for a moment; if she could have had

time to think, or if she could have secured an opportunity to exchange

half a dozen sentences with any one of the members of her Band of

Hatred, it would have been different, and she might have planned for the

overthrow of the detective.

As it was, the circumstances had arrived at such a condition that

leaving her chair would be equivalent--so far as her companions were

concerned--to the calling out of Nick Carter's name.

Madge knew Curly John, and she knew him for a man who never made idle

threats. His reputation among his fellows was that he spoke very rarely,

and said very little when he did speak, but that what he said was always

to the point, and that he always meant what he uttered.

And so she saw the tables rather turned upon herself. Instead of Nick

Carter being in her power, she was temporarily in his.

The situation had its ludicrous side. Each was in a sense the prisoner

of the other, for, while Nick Carter could not hope to escape from that

room unless she gave him permission to leave it, she could not rise from

the chair upon which she was seated without risking death unless he

permitted it.

If only she could have conveyed the shortest kind of a message to Mike

Grinnel, or have signaled some word to Slippery, or to Surly Bob, or

Gentleman Jim, or Fly Cummings, or Cuthbert, or Maxwell, or The Parson,

all of whom were in that room at the time, everything would have been so

easy for her.

But she could not leave her chair; neither could she signal to any of

these.

Nick Carter's eye was upon her; his arm was extended across the table,

and she knew the potency of that arm, as well as something about the

strength and fund of resource of the detective.

But the situation was unbearable. She felt that she could not endure it,

and that in some manner it would have to be brought to a close, and at

once.

And so she leaned still further back in her chair, gradually tilting it

until it rested poised upon the two rear legs.

And then, with a sudden motion, and at the same instant uttering a

scream, which rang shrilly through the room, she threw herself directly

backward, at the same time kicking up her feet and so striking them

fiercely against the under side of the table.

The weight of her body and the force with which she struck the table

instantly overturned it, bottles, glasses, and all, so that it crashed

to the floor in utter confusion.

And at the same instant every one in that room leaped to their feet and

reached for their weapons.

A Woman at Bay; Or, A Fiend in Skirts · 第 23 / 28 章