Traffic in Souls: A Novel of Crime and Its CureBall, Eustace Hale
General
Traffic in Souls: A Novel of Crime and Its Cure
Ball, Eustace Hale
Crime -- Fiction
"Sssh!" cautioned Bob. "There's something important we want to get."
Suddenly Mary gripped his hand.
"That's Shepard's voice. I'd never forget it."
They listened. The man told of the condition of Lorna, mentioning her
by name now. She had returned to consciousness, and was detained in
the room of a house not five blocks from the police station.
"I'll break her spirit now. None of this stage talk any more, Clemm,"
droned the voice in the phonograph. "When I get my whip going she'll
be glad enough to put on the silk dresses. She screamed and cried a
while ago, but I'm used to that sort of guff."
"Don't mark her up with the whip, Shepard. That's a weakness of yours,
and makes us lose money. Go over now and get her ready for to-night.
They want a girl like her for a party up-town to-night. Get her
scared, and then slip a little cocaine,--that eases 'em up. Then some
champagne, and it will be easy."
Mary began to sob. Burke held her hand in his firm manner.
"Don't cry, little girl, we'll attend to her. Captain Sawyer, this is
a record of a conversation we took on a new machine in the offices of
the Purity League. It connects with the 'Mercantile' office
downstairs, which is a headquarters for the white slave business. Now
we know the address of the house where this young girl is kept. Can I
have the reserves to help me raid it?"
"Ah, can you? Why, you will lead it my boy. Run out and order four
machines from that garage next door. We'll be there in two minutes."
The reserves were summoned from their lounging room with such speed
that Mary was bewildered.
"Oh, may I go along?" she begged. "I want to be the first to greet my
little sister."
"Yes!" cried Sawyer. "All out now, boys. We'll work this on time. I
know the house. It has a big back yard, and a fire-escape in the rear.
Half you fellows follow the sergeant, and go to the front--but stay
down by the corner until exactly four-thirty. Then break into the
front door with axes. The other half--you men in that second file"
(they were lined up with military precision in the big room of the
station house)--"go with Bob Burke. I want you to go up over the roof.
Use your night sticks if there is any gun play, shoot--but not to kill,
for we want to send these men to prison."
They started off. Mary's heart fluttered with excitement, with hope.
There was something so reassuring about the husky manhood of these
blue-coats and the nonchalance and even delight with which they faced
the dangers before them.
"Can I go in with them?" she cried eagerly.
"No, young lady, you stay with the sergeant, and sit in the automobile
when the men leave it. You're apt to get shot, and we want you to take
care of your sister."
They were off on the race to save Lorna!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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