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“Come now,” insisted Delahanty, “the girl around the corner. You know. We know you’ve got a pull, but we’ve got to know about this case, just the same. Come across now. It won’t be published. What made her take the poison?”

Under the steady eyes of the officers the woman hesitated, but finally weakened.

“Why — why — her lover went back on her — that’s all. She got so blue we just couldn’t do anything with her. I tried to, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Lover, eh?” put in Maguire as though that were the most unheard-of thing in the world.”What was his name?”

“I don’t know. You never can tell that.”

“What was her name — Annie?” asked Delahanty wisely, as though he knew but was merely inquiring for form’s sake.

“No — Emily.”

“Well, how did she come to get over there, anyhow?” inquired Maguire most pleasantly.

“George took her,” she replied, referring to a man-of-all-work about the place.

Then little by little as they sat there the whole miserable story came out, miserable as all the wilfulness and error and suffering of the world.

“How old was she?”

“Oh, twenty-one.”

“Well, where’d she come from?”

“Oh, here in New York. Her family locked her out one night, I think.” Something in the way the woman said this last brought old Rogaum and his daughter back to the policemen’s minds. They had forgotten all about her by now, although they had turned in an alarm. Fearing to interfere too much with this well-known and politically controlled institution, the two men left, but outside they fell to talking of the other case.

“We ought to tell old Rogaum about her some time,” said Maguire to Delahanty cynically.”He locked his kid out to-night.”

“Yes, it might be a good thing for him to hear that,” replied the other.”We’d better go round there an’ see if his girl’s back yet. She may be back by now,” and so they returned but little disturbed by the joint miseries.

At Rogaum’s door they once more knocked loudly.

“Is your daughter back again?” asked Maguire when a reply was had.

“Ach, no,” replied the hysterical Mrs. Rogaum, who was quite alone now.”My husband he haf gone oudt again to loog vunce more. Oh, my! Oh, my!”

“Well, that’s what you get for lockin’ her out,” returned Maguire loftily, the other story fresh in his mind.”That other girl downstairs here tonight was locked out too, once.” He chanced to have a girl-child of his own and somehow he was in the mood for pointing a moral.”You oughtn’t to do anything like that. Where d’yuh expect she’s goin’ to if you lock her out?”

Mrs. Rogaum groaned. She explained that it was not her fault, but anyhow it was carrying coals to New
castle to talk to her so. The advice was better for her husband.

The pair finally returned to the station to see if the call had been attended to.

“Sure,” said the sergeant, “certainly. Whadd ya think?” and he read from the blotter before him:

“Look out for girl. Theresa Rogaum. Aged 18; height, about 5. 3; light hair, blue eyes, white cotton dress, trimmed with blue ribbon. Last seen with lad named Almerting, about 19 years of age, about 5, 9; weight 135 pounds.”

There were other details even more pointed and conclusive. For over an hour now, supposedly, policemen from the Battery to Harlem, and far beyond, had been scanning long streets and dim shadows for a girl in a white dress with a youth of nineteen, — supposedly.

Officer Halsey, another of this region, which took in a portion of Washington Square, had seen a good many couples this pleasant summer evening since the description of Theresa and Almerting had been read to him over the telephone, but none that answered to these. Like Maguire and Delahanty, he was more or less indifferent to all such cases, but idling on a corner near the park at about three a. m. , a brother officer, one Paisly by name, came up and casually mentioned the missing pair also.