The Gray Mask Part 4

"No. I warn you. Spare me and yourselves that. It's not pretty, what you'd see."

"Take it off," the girl repeated.

"I hide it," Garth cried. "For years--Listen, you. If you don't let me keep a little pride you can do your dirty work without me."

The leader put his hand on Garth's shoulder.

"Now, now," he said soothingly. "Depend on it, Simmons, if you're all right we don't want to hurt your feelings."

"All right!" Nora mocked. "And I tell you there's a cop here. And you know as well as I he's the only one. You're crazy, Slim."

"Good thing one of us is then," the leader sneered. "If this isn't Simmons we're out of the running for to-night anyway. If it is, what do we gain by making a show of him? That's what I was going to propose.

Only one of us need look."

"That'll do," Nora agreed. "Well! Who?"

"George here was anxious."

"Look yourself," George answered. "I'm no dime museum fiend."

Suddenly Garth arose.

"Maybe the lady--" he croaked. "She's so set on it. A pleasant sight for ladies."

Nora flushed angrily.

"I'll call that bluff."

She waved the others back towards the end of the room.

"And be quick about it," she said to Garth.

Garth caught the expressions of the others. He noticed their ready hands. While his fingers rose to the fastenings of the gray mask he turned slowly and faced Nora.

For a moment he hesitated. Even after all he had seen he shrank from forcing on the girl the responsibility of tossing him to those waiting hands. He was tempted to spare her that, to confess himself to the others. But the stamping of her foot, the tone of her voice, impatient, commanding, decided him.

"Hurry, I say! There's no way out."

So, holding her with his eyes, he slipped the gray mask aside.

He saw her stare while the angry color left her cheeks. But at first her expression did not alter. It seemed to him a long time before terror twisted her face, before she screamed. He watched her cower back, crossing her arms over her eyes; watched her fall against the wall, where she bent, trembling.

Garth replaced the mask, shrugging his shoulders, and turned to the others. The leader laughed lightly, with satisfaction.

"Never dreamed it was as bad as that, Simmons. You're right. Don't blame you, but you must see we had to be sure."

Garth nodded. He sat down. Let the girl speak. Until then he would play his part.

"Looks as if the stool lost a leg somewhere," he said.

He studied Nora. Her face hidden, she remained shrinking against the wall. Still she did not speak.

George stepped to her side and put his arm around her.

"Forget it, little girl. Wish I'd looked for you."

She shook his arm off and pushed him away.

"Forget it yourself, George," the leader warned. "You ought to have learned that won't go with Nora."

"She knows I'm no b.u.t.terfly," George answered sullenly.

His touch had aroused her. She straightened and turned wild eyes on the gray mask. Garth waited then for her to betray him, but she only stammered a little.

"He's right. A pleasant sight for ladies! Boat--must have thrown them off the track."

She laughed hysterically. She sank on the end of the bench.

Garth was surprised, now that the strain was broken, not to experience any exceptional relief. In spite of the game's vital stakes it had interested him chiefly because of the various effects it might have had on Nora. Yet it had yielded him no key to her presence here, to her disgraceful marketing of her father's confidence, to her a.s.sumption at home of black robes and grief, or, finally, to her apparent decision to let the night's work continue in spite of his presence. Probably she hoped he could not get help until the job had been done. Or--and the thought struck him with the shameful tingling of a slap--perhaps she thought he would let the others go rather than capture and convict the woman he had craved in marriage.

He pressed his lips together. He beckoned to Slim. He took the whip in his own hands.

"Is the safe here? Are we going to spend the rest of the night on this boat? If the cops are awake it isn't wise."

"All right," the leader said. "George, you and Nora and Simmons wait here. The rest of you start out."

The studious-appearing youth, the tramp, the dandy, and the elderly man filed through the door and silently closed it. The leader spoke to Garth quickly.

"George will unlock the safe without any trouble. He's the best in the business. Your job's to open it and handle what you find without blowing the lot of us to everlasting dirt."

Garth stirred uneasily.

"Explosives!" he said. "I see why you wanted me."

"The pay's high," Slim answered. "The fellows that are after this stuff don't trust diplomatic talk. Everybody wants it if only to be sure that n.o.body else gets it, for they claim that the nation that has it, could make a league of all the rest look like Tod Sloan fighting Dempsey. The inventor thinks Uncle Sam ought to have it, if anybody, but he's been holding off. It's new, and he's either afraid of it himself, or he thinks he can perfect it."

"He's afraid of it," Nora breathed. "He told me it was a sin to invent it."

"The point is, Simmons," the leader said, "can you handle the stuff with a degree of safety after you have read the formula? A man of your experience--"

"I am not afraid to tackle it if I can see the formula," Garth answered quietly.

"Say, Simmons," George put in with a wry face, "if there's anything phony about your education, drop off here."

Garth fingered a frayed sheet of white paper.

"I am not afraid if I can see the formula," he repeated.