d."

Black Mustache laughed. "Think of that, Pete! And she
soliciting us. That'll be good news for your loving husband.
Come along, Queenie. Your record's against you. Everybody'll
know you've dropped back to your old ways."

"I am going to my husband," said she quietly. "You had better
not annoy me."

Pete looked uneasy, but Black Mustache's sinister face became
more resolute. "If you wanted to live respectable, why did
you solicit us two? Come along--or do you want me and Pete to
take you by the arms?"

"Very well," said she. "I'll go." She knew the police, knew
that Palmer's lieutenant would act as he said--and she also
knew what her "record" would do toward carrying through the plot.

She walked in the direction of the station house, the two
plain clothes men dropping a few feet behind and rejoining her
only when they reached the steps between the two green lamps.
In this way they avoided collecting a crowd at their heels.
As she advanced to the desk, the sergeant yawning over the
blotter glanced up.

"Bless my soul!" cried he, all interest at once. "If it ain't
F. P.'s Queenie!"

"And up to her old tricks, sergeant," said Black Mustache.
"She solicited me and Pete."

Susan was looking the sergeant straight in the eyes. "I am a
married woman," said she. "I live with my husband. I was
looking at some books in Forty-second Street when these two
came up and arrested me."

The sergeant quailed, glanced at Pete who was guiltily hanging
his head--glanced at Black Mustache. There he got the support
he was seeking. "What's your husband's name?" demanded Black
Mustache roughly. "What's your address?"

And Rod's play coming on the next night but one! She shrank,
collected herself. "I am not going to drag him into this, if
I can help it," said she. "I give you a chance to keep
yourselves out of trouble." She was gazing calmly at the
sergeant again. "You know these men are not telling the
truth. You know they've brought me here because of Freddie
Palmer. My husband knows all about my past. He will stand by
me. But I wish to spare him."

The sergeant's uncertain manner alarmed Black Mustache.
"She's putting up a good, bluff" scoffed he. "The truth is
she ain't got no husband. She'd not have solicited us if she
was living decent."

"You hear what the officer says," said the sergeant, taking
the tone of great kindness. "You'll have to give your name
and address--and I'll leave it t