I felt that I had made an advance. It was a small one, no doubt, but it was an advance. It would not do to rest there, however, or to draw definite conclusions from what I had seen without further facts to guide me. Mrs. Boppert could supply these facts, or so I believed. Accordingly I decided¹ to visit Mrs. Boppert.  
Not knowing whether Mr. Gryce had thought it best to put a watch over my movements, but taking it for granted that it would be like him to do so, I made a couple of formal calls on the avenue before I started eastward². I had learned Mrs. Boppert's address before leaving home, but I did not ride directly to the tenement³ where she lived. I chose, instead, to get out at a little fancy store I saw in the neighborhood.
 
It was a curious place. I never saw so many or such variety of things in one small spot in my life, but I did not waste any time upon this quaint⁴ interior, but stepped immediately up to the good woman I saw leaning over the counter.
 
"Do you know a Mrs. Boppert who lives at 803?" I asked.
 
The woman's look was too quick and suspicious for denial; but she was about to attempt it, when I cut her short by saying:[Pg 188]
 
"I wish to see Mrs. Boppert very much, but not in her own rooms. I will pay any one well who will assist me to five minutes' conversation with her in such a place, say, as that I see behind the glass door at the end of this very shop."
 
The woman, startled by so unexpected a proposition, drew back a step, and was about to shake her head, when I laid on the counter before her (shall I say how much? Yes, for it was not thrown away) a five-dollar bill, which she no sooner saw than she gave a gasp⁵ of delight.
 
"Will you give me that?" she cried.
 
For answer I pushed it towards her, but before her fingers could clutch it, I resolutely⁶ said:
 
"Mrs. Boppert must not know there is anybody waiting here to see her, or she will not come. I have no ill-will towards her, and mean her only good, but she's a timid sort of person, and——"
 
"I know she's timid," broke in the good woman, eagerly. "And she's had enough to make her so! What with policemen drumming her up at night, and innocent-looking girls and boys luring⁷ her into corners to tell them what she saw in that grand house where the murder took place, she's grown that feared of her shadow you can hardly get her out after sundown. But I think I can get her here; and if you mean her no harm, why, ma'am——" Her fingers were on the bill, and charmed with the feel of it, she forgot to finish her sentence.
 
"Is there any one in the room back there?" I asked, anxious to recall her to herself.
 
"No, ma'am, no one at all. I am a poor widder, and not used to such company as you; but if you will[Pg 189] sit down, I will make myself look more fit and have Mrs. Boppert over here in a minute." And calling to some one of the name of Susie to look after the shop, she led the way towards the glass door I have mentioned.
 
Relieved to find everything working so smoothly⁸ and determined⁹ to get the worth of my money out of Mrs. Boppert when I saw her, I followed the woman into the most crowded room I ever entered. The shop was nothing to it; there you could move without hitting anything; here you could not. There were tables against every wall, and chairs where there were no tables. Opposite me was a window-ledge filled with flowering plants, and at my right a grate and mantel-piece covered, that is the latter, with innumerable small articles which had evidently passed a long and forlorn probation¹⁰ on the shop shelves before being brought in here. While I was looking at them and marvelling¹¹ at the small quantity of dust I found, the woman herself disappeared behind a stack of boxes, for which there was undoubtedly¹² no room in the shop. Could she have gone for Mrs. Boppert already, or had she slipped into another room to hide the money which had come so unexpectedly into her hands?
 
I was not long left in doubt, for in another moment she returned with a flower-bedecked cap on her smooth gray head, that transformed her into a figure at once so complacent¹³ and so ridiculous that, had my nerves not been made of iron, I should certainly have betrayed my amusement. With it she had also put on her company manner, and what with the smiles she bestowed¹⁴ upon me and her perfect satisfaction with her own appearance, I had all I could do to hold my own and[Pg 190] keep her to the matter in hand. Finally she managed to take in my anxiety and her own duty, and saying that Mrs. Boppert could never refuse a cup of tea, offered to send her an invitation to supper. As this struck me favorably, I nodded, at which she cocked her head on one side and insinuatingly¹⁵ whispered:
 
"And would you pay for the tea, ma'am?"
 
I uttered an indignant "No!" which seemed to surprise her. Immediately becoming humble¹⁶ again, she replied it was no matter, that she had tea enough and that the shop would supply cakes and crackers¹⁷; to all of which I responded with a look which awed¹⁸ her so completely that she almost dropped the dishes with which she was endeavoring to set one of the tables.
 
"She does so hate to talk about the murder that it will be a perfect godsend to her to drop into good company like this with no prying¹⁹ neighbors about. Shall I set a chair for you, ma'am?"
 
I declined the honor, saying that I would remain seated where I was, adding, as I saw her about to go:
 
"Let her walk straight in, and she will be in the middle of the room before she sees me. That will suit her and me too; for after she has once seen me, she won't be frightened. But you are not to listen at the door."
 
This I said with great severity, for I saw the woman was becoming very curious, and having said it, I waved her peremptorily²⁰ away.
 
She didn't like it, but a thought of the five dollars comforted her. Casting one final look at the table, which was far from uninvitingly set, she slipped out and I was left to contemplate²¹ the dozen or so photographs that covered the walls. I found them so atrocious[Pg 191] and their arrangement so distracting to my bump of order, which is of a pronounced character, that I finally shut my eyes on the whole scene, and in this attitude began to piece my thoughts together. But before I had proceeded far, steps were heard in the shop, and the next moment the door flew open and in popped Mrs. Boppert, with a face like a peony in full blossom. She stopped when she saw me and stared.
 
"Why, if it isn't the lady——"
 
"Hush²²! Shut the door. I have something very particular to say to you."
 
"O," she began, looking as if she wanted to back out. But I was too quick for her. I shut the door myself and, taking her by the arm, seated her in the corner.
 
"You don't show much gratitude," I remarked.
 
I did not know what she had to be grateful to me for, but she had so plainly intimated at our first interview that she regarded me as having done her some favor, that I was disposed to make what use of it I could, to gain her confidence.
 
"I know, ma'am, but if you could see how I've been harried²³, ma'am. It's the murder, and nothing but the murder all the time; and it was to get away from the talk about it that I came here, ma'am, and now it's you I see, and you'll be talking about it too, or why be in such a place as this, ma'am?"
 
"And what if I do talk about it? You know I'm your friend, or I never would have done you that good turn the morning we came upon the poor girl's body."
 
"I know, ma'am, and grateful I am for it, too; but I've never understood it, ma'am. Was it to save me from being blamed by the wicked police, or was it a[Pg 192] dream you had, and the gentleman had, for I've heard what he said at the inquest, and it's muddled²⁵ my head till I don't know where I'm standing²⁶."
 
What I had said and what the gentleman had said! What did the poor thing mean? As I did not dare to show my ignorance, I merely shook my head.
 
"Never mind what caused us to speak as we did, as long as we helped you. And we did help you? The police never found out what you had to do with this woman's death, did they?"
 
"No, ma'am, O no, ma'am. When such a respectable lady as you said that you saw the young lady come into the house in the middle of the night, how was they to disbelieve it. They never asked me if I knew any different."
 
"No," said I, almost struck dumb by my success, but letting no hint of my complacency escape me. "And I did not mean they should. You are a decent woman, Mrs. Boppert, and should not be troubled."
 
"Thank you, ma'am. But how did you know she had come to the house before I left. Did you see her?"
 
I hate a lie as I do poison, but I had to exercise all my Christian²⁷ principles not to tell one then.
 
"No," said I, "I didn't see her, but I don't always have to use my eyes to know what is going on in my neighbor's houses." Which is true enough, if it is somewhat humiliating to confess it.
 
"O ma'am, how smart you are, ma'am! I wish I had some smartness in me. But my husband had all that. He was a man—O what's that?"
 
"Nothing but the tea-caddy; I knocked it over with my elbow."[Pg 193]
 
"How I do jump at everything! I'm afraid of my own shadow ever since I saw that poor thing lying under that heap of crockery."
 
"I don't wonder."
 
"She must have pulled those things over herself, don't you think so, ma'am? No one went in there to murder her. But how came she to have those clothes on. She was dressed quite different when I let her in. I say it's all a muddle²⁴, ma'am, and it will be a smart man as can explain it."
 
"Or a smart woman," I thought.
 
"Did I do wrong, ma'am? That's what plagues me. She begged so hard to come in, I didn't know how to shut the door on her. Besides her name was Van Burnam, or so she told me."
 
Here was a coil. Subduing²⁸ my surprise, I remarked:
 
"If sh............