Jacqueline of Golden River | Page 3

Daly's at half past
twelve in the morning?
She began walking slowly and rather aimlessly, it seemed to me, along
the street in the direction of Sixth Avenue. My curiosity was
unbounded. I followed her at a decent interval to see what she was
going to do. But she did not seem to know.
The girl looked as if she had stepped out of a cloister into an unknown
world, and the dog added to the strangeness of the picture.
The street loafers stared after her, and two men began walking abreast
of her on the other side of the road. I followed more closely.
As she stood upon the curb on the east side of Sixth Avenue I saw her
glance timidly up and down before venturing to cross. There was little
traffic, and the cars were running at wide intervals, but it was quite half
a minute before she summoned resolution to plunge beneath the
structure of the elevated railroad. When she had reached the other side
she stood still again before continuing westward.
The two men crossed the street and planted themselves behind her.
They were speaking in a tongue that sounded like French, and one had
a patch over his eye. A taxicab was crawling up behind them. I was
sure that they were in pursuit of her.

The four of us were almost abreast in the middle of the long block
between Sixth and Seventh Avenues. We were passing a dead wall, and
the street was almost empty.
Suddenly the man with the patch turned on me, lowered his head, and
butted me off my feet. I fell into the roadway, and at that instant the
second fellow grasped the girl by the arm and the taxicab whirled up
and stopped.
The girl's assailants seemed to be trying to force her into the cab. One
caught at her arm, the other seized her waist. The bag flew open,
scattering a shower of gold pieces upon the pavement.
And then, before I could get upon my feet again, the dog had leaped at
the throat of the man with the patch and sent him stumbling backward.
Before he recovered his balance I was at the other man, striking out
right and left.
It was all the act of an instant, and in an instant the two men had
jumped into the taxicab and were being driven swiftly away. I was
standing beside the terrified girl, while an ill-looking crowd, gathering
from God knows where, surrounded us and fought like harpies for the
coins which lay scattered about.
I laid my hands on one who had grabbed a gold piece from between my
feet, but the girl pulled at my arm distractedly. She was white and
trembling, and her big grey eyes were full of fear.
"Help me!" she pleaded, clinging to my sleeve with her little gloved
hands. "The money is nothing. I have eight thousand dollars more in
my bag. Help me away!"
She spoke in a foreign, bookish accent, as though she had learned
English at school. Fortunately for us the mob was too busily engrossed
in its search to hear her words.
So I drew her arm through mine and we hurried toward Sixth Avenue,
where we took an up-town car.

We had reached Herald Square when it occurred to me that my
companion did not seem to know her destination. So we descended
there. I intended to order a taxicab for her, had forgotten the dog, but
now the beautiful creature came bounding up to us.
"Where are you going?" I asked the girl. "I will take you to your
home--or hotel," I added with a slight upward intonation on the last
word.
"I do not know where I am going," she answered slowly. "I have never
been in New York until to-day."
"But you have friends here?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"But are you really carrying eight thousand dollars about with you in
New York at night?" I asked in amazement. "Don't you know this city
is full of thieves, and that you are in the worst district?"
For a moment it occurred to me that she might have been decoyed into
Daly's. And yet I knew it was not that sort of place; indeed, Daly's chief
desire was to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It was very difficult
to get into Daly's.
"Do you know the character of the place you came out of?" I asked,
trying to find some clue to her actions.
"The character?" she repeated, apparently puzzled at first. "Oh, yes.
That is Mr. Daly's gaming-house. I came to New York to play at
roulette there."
She was looking at me so frankly that I was sure she was wholly
ignorant of evil.
"My father is too