says is true?"

"What do they say?" asked Rhoda Gray gently.

Gypsy Nan lay back on her pillow as though her strength, over-taxed,
had failed her; her hand, though it still clutched the revolver,
seemed to have been dragged down by the weapon's weight, and now
rested upon the blanket.

"Dey say," said Gypsy Nan slowly, "dat youse knows more on de
inside here dan anybody else - t'ings youse got from de spacers'
molls, an' from de dips demselves when youse was lendin' dem a
hand; dey say dere ain't many youse couldn't send up de river just
by liftin' yer finger, but dat youse're straight, an' dat youse've
kept yer map closed, an' dat youse' re safe."

Rhoda Gray's dark eyes softened, as she leaned forward and laid a
hand gently over the one of Gypsy Nan that held the revolver.

"It couldn't be any other way, could it, Nan?" she said simply.

"Wot yer after?" demanded Gypsy Nan, with sudden mockery. "De gun?
Well, take it!" She let go her hold of the weapon. "But don't kid
yerself dat youse're kiddin' me into givin' it to youse because
youse have got a pretty smile an' a sweet voice! Savvy? I" - she
choked suddenly, and caught at her throat - "I guess youse're de
only chance I got-dat's all."

"That's better," said Rhoda Gray encouragingly. "And now you'll
let me go and get a doctor, won't you, Nan?"