For the space of time it takes a watch to tick she stood startled
and amazed, and then, like a flash, she was speeding down the street.
A roar of rage, a burst of unbridled profanity went up from Rough
Rorke behind her; it was mingled with equally angry vituperation in
the young man's voice. She looked behind her. The two men were
swaying around crazily in each other's arms. She ran on - faster
than she had ever run in her life. The corner was not far ahead.
Her brain was working with lightning speed. Gypsy Nan's house was
just around the corner. If she could get out of sight - hide - it
would...

She glanced behind her again, as her ears caught the pound of racing
feet. The young man was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk,
shaking his fist; Rough Rorke, perhaps a bare fifty yards away, was
chasing her at top speed.

Her face set hard. She could not out-run a man! There was only
one hope for her - just one - to gain Gypsy Nan's doorway before
Rorke got around the corner.

A yard - another - still another! She swerved around the corner.
And, as she turned, she caught a glimpse of the detective. The man
was nearer - much nearer. But it was only a little way, just a
little way, to Gypsy Nan's - not so far as the distance between
her and Rorke - and - and if the man didn't gain too fast, then
- then - A little cry of dismay came with a new and terrifying
thought. Quite apart from Rorke, some one else might see her enter
Gypsy Nan's! She strained her eyes in all directions as she ran.
There wasn't any one - she didn't see any one - only Rorke, around
the corner there, was bawling out at the top of his voice, and