e he, with a pistol, stood
at the other. Then Miss Eunice went into the apartment. She was wasted,
weak, and nervous. The two villains got up as she came in, and bowed.
She began to tremble as usual, and laid hold upon the mantelpiece. "How
much do you want?" she gasped.

The man gave the woman a push with his forefinger. She stepped forward
quickly with her crest up. Her eyes turned, and she fixed a vixenish
look upon Miss Eunice. She suddenly shot her hand out from beneath her
shawl and extended it at full length. Across it lay Miss Eunice's glove,
very much soiled.

"Was that thing ever yours?" demanded the woman, shrilly.

"Y-yes," said Miss Eunice, faintly.

The woman seemed (if the apt word is to be excused) staggered. She
withdrew her hand, and looked the glove over. The man shook his head,
and began to laugh behind his hat.

"And did you ever give it to him?" pursued the woman, pointing over her
shoulder with her thumb.

Miss Eunice nodded.

"Of your own free will?"

After a moment of silence she ejaculated, in a whisper, "Yes."

"Now wait," said the man, coming to the front; "'nough has been said by
you." He then addressed himself to Miss Eunice with the remains of his
laugh still illuminating his face.

"This is my wife's sister, and she's one of the jealous kind. I love my
wife" (here he became grave), "and I never showed her any kind of slight
that I know of. I've always been fair to her, and she's always been fair
to me. Plain sailin' so far; I never kep' anything from her--but this."
He reached out and took the glove from the woman, and spread it out upon
his own palm, as Miss Eunice had seen him do once before. He looked at
it thoughtfully. "I wouldn't tell her about this; no, never. She was
never very particular to ask me; that's where her trust in me came in.
She knowed I was above doing anything out of the way--that is--I mean--"
He stammered and blushed, and then rushed on volubly. "But her sister
here thought I paid too much attention to it; she thought I looked at it
too much, and kep' it secret. So she nagged and nagged, and kept the
pitch boilin' until I had to let it out: I told 'em" (Miss Eunice
shivered). "'No,' says she, my wife's sister, 'that won't do, Gorman.
That's chaff, and I'm too old a bird.' Ther'fore I fetched her straight
to you, so she could put the question direct."

He stopped a moment as if in doubt how to go on. Miss Eunice began to
open her eyes, and she released