“You say she’ll be back. How do you know that?”
“I know it, because she hasn’t got a dime. With her it’s a case of coming back or starving to death in the Levee, and I know enough about her to be sure she’ll be back. She can’t get away from me.”
“And the other girl, Patience?”
“She thinks this is a sort of a music hall. She’s coming here with her mother Saturday night. Before she discovers that this place isn’t exactly what she believes it is, Harry Boland will see her up there on the stand with the rest of my talent. I’ll get the girl out of the place before he can talk to her. That will put the kibosh on their love affair.”
“What do you expect to do with these girls afterward?”
“Oh, we have facilities here”—Druce’s smile was evil—“for breaking ’em in. Afterward—well, I don’t know. It may be dangerous to keep them around Chicago. I can get a good price for them.” He laughed. “You know I’m a dealer in live stock.”
“Yes, yes, you expect to sell them. That’s not a bad idea.”
“Now look here, kid,” said Druce, “you’ve asked me a lot of questions and got fair answers. It’s a poor game that can’t be played both ways. I want to know something about you.”
Miss Masters curled herself up comfortably in a corner of the booth. She looked challengingly at Druce.
“Shoot,” she said.