I called to them to bring the boat back along the hall,
and I had a queer feeling that it might be Mrs. Ladley, and that I'd
been making a 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.
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