fool of myself all day for nothing. But it was not Mrs.
Ladley.

"Is this number forty-two?" asked the woman, as the boat came back.

"Yes."

"Does Mr. Ladley live here?"

"Yes. But he is not here now."

"Are you Mrs. Pittock?"

"Pitman, yes."

The boat bumped against the stairs, and the woman got out. She was as
tall as Mrs. Ladley, and when I saw her in the light from the upper
hall, I knew her instantly. It was Temple Hope, the leading woman from
the Liberty Theater.

"I would like to talk to you, Mrs. Pitman," she said. "Where can we
go?"

I led the way back to my room, and when she had followed me in, she
turned and shut the door.

"Now then," she said without any preliminary, "where is Jennie Brice?"

"I don't know, Miss Hope," I answered.

We looked at each other for a minute, and each of us saw what the
other suspected.

"He has killed her!" she exclaimed. "She was afraid he would do it,
and--he has."

"Killed her and thrown her into the river," I said. "That's what I
think, and he'll go free at that. It seems there isn't any murder when
there isn't any corpse."

"Nonsense! If he has done that, the river will give her up,
eventually."

"The river doesn't always give them up," I retorted. "Not in
flood-time, anyhow. Or when they are found it is months later, and you
can't prove anything."

She had only a little time, being due at the theater soon, but she sat
down and told me the story she told afterward on the stand:

She had known Jennie Brice for years, they having been together in the
chorus as long before as _Nadjy_.

"She was married then to a fellow on the vaudeville circuit," Miss
Hope said. "He left her about that time, and she took up with Ladley.
I don't think they were ever married."

"What!" I said, jumping to my feet, "and they came to a respectable
house like this! There's never been a breath of scandal about this
house, Miss Hope, and if this comes out I'm ruined."

"Well, perhaps they were married," she said. "Anyhow, they were always
quarreling. And when he wasn't playing, it was worse. She used to come
to my hotel, and cry her eyes out."

"I knew you were friends," I said. "Almost the last thing she said to
me was about the black and white dress of hers you were to borrow for
the piece this week."

"Black and white dress! I borrow one of Jennie Brice's dresses!"
exclaimed Miss Hope. "I should think not. I have plenty of my own."

That puzzled me; for she had s