the necessities of the moment,
but rather with the extraordinary grotesqueness of the situation.

"Take her about the knees," said I, and then touched his elbow.
"Estabrook," I added, "this--mind you--happens in a twentieth-century
metropolis."

He did not answer, because the old servant, dashed in her upturned face
by a stream of water running from the coping, moved her arms feebly and
uttered a groan.

"Quick!" said I. "Drop her and crank up the car. I'll do the rest."

He obeyed.

I dragged the burdensome weight of my victim, if you will so call her,
and thrust it into the interior of the vehicle. Estabrook was already on
the chauffeur's seat; as quickly as I tell it, the car had begun to pick
up speed over the wet and slippery street. We flashed by a light or two
and I saw that Margaret Murchie's eyes had lost their stare of
unconsciousness.

"Margaret," said I, "you are all right. Be sensible. There is Mr.
Estabrook in front."

She shook herself convulsively as if to throw off the remnants of the
anaesthetic. Then she caught my sleeve.

"Oh, it's terrible," she cried. "Ye have taken me away from Julie! Bring
me back to her, do you hear? You and Mr. Estabrook--What do ye want of
me?"

"Quiet!" I said. "We want you to tell all you know."

"You want me to tell it? After all these years? And it's no fault of
mine or hers!"

Suddenly she became excited again.

"Take me back!" she screamed. "You don't know what you do! Take me back
to my Julie! She may need me sore enough!"

"Have sense," I said close to her ear. "We are going to the bottom of
this. You must tell everything--everything from beginning to end."

She was silent for several seconds while we sped out toward the North
Side.

"It's awful," she said finally. "And it has gone far enough. It's been
more than I can bear. It's time for me to tell! If you, whoever you are,
and Mr. Estabrook will hear, you shall have it all--the living truth of
it--the bottom of what I know."

"Good!" said I. "And now we'll go to my house."

"No, no," she exclaimed. "There is no need for that. I would not be from
the girl while these awful minutes is going by. Who can say what would
happen? Oh, no, sir. Take your cab back to our door, and then--sitting
on this seat--with my eye on that terrible house--and less need of any
of us to worry--I can tell ye all from the first to the last."

In her voice was that sincerity of emotion which invites confidence.

"Very