out and sauntered to the carriage. It seemed
to me he was interested in looking around him, and
at the houses opposite, rather than at the cab.
He remained at the cab, presumably in talk with those
within, for several minutes. Presently the door
clicked and a woman stepped out, followed by a man.
The woman disappeared into the house. The two
men drew in so close to the cab that they were hidden
from me; when they reappeared, they were carrying
a woman—or her body—between them.
They hurriedly crossed the sidewalk mounted the steps,
and the house-door closed behind them instantly.
The noise of the door seemed to arouse the horse, doubtless
he took it for the door of the cab, and he started
slowly up the street toward Massachusetts Avenue.
After walking a short distance, and in front of a
vacant lot near the corner, he halted—obviously
he realized that no one was holding the lines, and
he was waiting for his driver to return. Just
then one of the men put his head out of the doorway,
saw that the horse was no longer before the house,
and dodged quickly back. I waited for further
developments from the house. None came, except
that in one of the rooms a light was made, but it
was behind closed shades. Pretty soon the horse
calmly lay down in the shafts, stretched out, and
apparently went to sleep. Disturbed by the occurrence,
and debating what I ought to do, I sat a while longer;
and I must have dozed again, for when I awoke the
house was dark, and a man, a strange man, I think,
was standing beside the cab, and the horse was up.
The man was gathering the reins; he fastened them
to the driver’s seat, spoke to the horse, and
the horse moved off and into Massachusetts Avenue toward
Dupont Circle. The man watched him for a moment;
then turned and went down Massachusetts Avenue.
After waiting a short while, I went to bed. This
morning, I decided it was well for you to know of the
“And you have told it wonderfully well, Mrs.
Winton,” said the Superintendent, “wonderfully
“You don’t know how often I rehearsed,”
she laughed, “nor how much of the essentials
I may have omitted!”
“Not much, I fancy. However, you’ll
not object, I suppose, to answering a few questions
as to details.”
“I wish you to ask anything that suggests itself,”
she replied. “I’ve an appointment
at the Chateau at five; just give me time to keep it.”
“We’ll get through long before five!”
the Superintendent smiled, though his shrewd grey
eyes were coldly critical. It was most unlikely
that she was the Lady of Peacock Alley; yet all things
are possible where a woman is concerned, as he knew
from experience. “About what time was it
when the cab stopped before the house?” he asked.
“About one o’clock, as near as I can judge,”
“What was the interval between the driver’s
going into the house and the man in evening clothes
“Scarcely any interval—not more than