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 episode.”

“And you have told it wonderfully well, Mrs. Winton,” said the Superintendent, “wonderfully well, indeed.”

“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,” she answered.

“What was the interval between the driver’s going into the house and the man in evening clothes coming out?”

“Scarcely any interval—­not more than a minute.”