"Couldn't I get them things to-night, an' start?" asked she, eagerly. "There's a train at 11:08, on the B. R. & P."
"All right," he assented. "Can you see this Micolo, now? It's after ten."
"Oh, that don't make no difference," she answered. "He runs a pawnshop over here on Dexter Street, two blocks east. He'll be open till midnight, easy, tomorrow bein' the Fourth."
"Come on, then," said Gabriel. "I'll see you through the whole business, and onto the train. Maybe I can help you, all along."
Without another word she started, with Gabriel at her side. They traversed the main street, two blocks, then turned to the left down a narrower, darker one.
"Here's Micolo's," said she, pausing at a doorway. Gabriel nodded. "All right," he answered. He had not noted, nor did he dream, that, at the corner behind them, two slinking, sneaking figures were now watching his every move.
The woman turned the knob, and entered. Gabriel followed.
"It's on the second floor," said she. Gabriel saw a sign, on the landing: "S. L. Micolo, Pawn Broker," and motioned her to precede him.
In a minute they had reached the upper hallway. The woman opened another door. The room, inside, was dark.
"This way," said she. "He's in the inside office, I guess. The light must ha' gone out here, some way or other."