Chapter 22 - Page 2

clear, then said: "Hell to pay! I tried to back out; but you can't back away from some women any more than you can back away from a prairie fire." He shook his head gloomily." It seems she wasn't satisfied with Poggi; she had ambitions. She'd caught a glimpse of the life that went on around her and wanted to take part in it. She thought I was rich, too--my name had something to do with it, I presume--at any rate, she began to talk of divorce, elopement, and other schemes that terrorized me. She was quite willing that I murder her husband, poison her relatives, or adopt any little expedient of that kind which would clear the path for our true love. I was in over my depth, but when I backed water she swam out and grabbed me. When I stayed away from her she looked me up. I tried once to tell her that I didn't really care for her--only once." The memory brought beads of sweat to the detective's brow. "Between her and Felicite I led a dog's life. If I'd had the money I'd have left town.

"I'd been meeting her on street corners up to that point; but she finally told me to come to the house while Poggi was away--it was the day you were hurt. I rebelled, but she made such a scene I had to agree or be arrested for blocking traffic. She carries a dagger, Norvin, in her stocking, or somewhere; it's no longer than your finger, but it's the meanest-looking weapon I ever saw. Well, I went, along about dark, determined to have it out with her once for all; but those aristocrats during the French Revolution had nothing on me. I know how it feels to mount the steps of the guillotine.

"The Poggi's parlor furniture is upholstered in red and smells musty. I sat on the edge of a chair, one eye on her and the other taking in my surroundings. There's a fine crayon enlargement of Joe with his uniform, in a gold frame with blue mosquito-netting over it to disappoint the flies--four ninety-eight, and we supply the frame--done by an old master of the County Fair school. There's an organ in the parlor, too, with a stuffed fish-hawk on it.

"She seemed quite subdued and coy at first, so I took heart, never dreaming she'd wear her dirk in the house. But say! That woman was raised on raw beef. Before I could wink she had it out; it has an ivory hilt, and you could split a silk thread with it. I suppose she didn't want to spoil the parlor furniture with me, although I'd never have showed against that upholstery, or else she's in the habit of preparing herself for manslaughter by a system of vocal calisthenics. At any rate, we were having it hot and heavy, and I was trying to think of some good and unselfish actions I had done, when we heard the back door of the cottage open and close, then somebody moving in the hall.

"Mrs. Poggi turned green--not white--green! And I began to picture the head-lines in the morning papers! 'The Bachelor and the Policeman's Wife,' they seemed to say. It wasn't