will swear you, and, if you tell us the whole truth, we will
help your boy. If you lie to us, God will punish you both, and we
will show no mercy."

Witherspoon opened his eyes in wonder as McNerney rapidly drew out
the whole story of Clayton's departure from the corner of University
Place in the carriage.

"You were the woman in the carriage on the day that Clayton left!
I SAW YOU MYSELF!" thundered McNerney. "Your own boy brought
Clayton the message. Now, where did you take him?"

Witherspoon held his breath as Leah Einstein, between her sobs,
told of the fatal visit to No. 192 Layte Street.

It was half an hour when the sobbing woman had finished her recital.
"By the God of Jacob! I never saw him after he went into the back
room. Fritz was with him there, Fritz alone!"

The three men were as unmoved as sphinxes while McNerney led her
along. "I only thought Fritz wanted him to meet the pretty woman,
the one they called Irma, and then, while he was there, take his
things from him. He had only a leather valise; no diamonds. I saw
no money, and I was with the sick woman. Mr. Clayton loved her,
and used to come and see her."

"Where does this Fritz live?" sternly said the policeman. "Everybody
knows Fritz Braun, the druggist of Magdal's Pharmacy. Ask Mr.
Lilienthal of the Newport Art Gallery. He is his friend."

With assumed indifference, McNerney mixed a glass of brandy and
water for the woman, and walked the floor in deep thought. "Where
is he now?" at last asked McNerney. "This Fritz Braun!"

There was a silence while the quick-witted Jewess caught at the
protection of the far-off hiding place of her quandam lover. "He
went away; I do not know where; and took the woman with him, this
Hungarian woman, this Irma Gluyas! Lilienthal knows; you can make
him tell."

"Look here!" sharply cried the officer, in a sudden rage. "You are
lying to me! Your rooms are being searched even now! Your boy has
been taken away, and he will go straight to the electric chair.
He gave that poor man over into your hands. You took him to the
murderer's den! BOTH OF YOU WILL DIE! You were yourself getting
ready to run away to Europe! Your baggage is all packed! We will
force the truth out of your boy; you shall never see him. You can't
help him lie now! I was the cobbler opposite your door, and I've
watched you for a month!"

For five minutes the men labored to restore the stricken woman,
whose tortured nerves gave way. "I sh