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Roly felt a great desire to shout the truth at these people who stood about so stupidly; he longed to set them on the trail of the Black Wolf and his pack, but he refrained. How little he really knew, after all! Who was the Black Wolf? Who was this Emile? What had the young scapegoat done to place himself not only outside the law, but outside the good graces of those conspirators? What intricate network of hatred and crime was here suggested? The desire to know the truth overcame all thought of his own safety, so he began to question those around him, heedless of the fact that he was being hunted in this very block.

The crowd was growing. An officer returned after sending a call for an ambulance, and began to force the people back.

Van Dam discovered a voluble old woman, evidently a shopkeeper, who seemed better informed than the others, and to her he applied himself.

“Do I know him, indeed?” she cried, shrilly, in answer to his question. “And who should know him better than I, Emile Le Duc–a fine boy, sir, of the very best family. Think of it! To be murdered like this! Ah! That’s what comes of a bad life, sir. But right at my own doorstep, as you might say, and in the light of day! Well! Well! What can you expect? He must have been mad to return, with the whole city knowing him so well.” She was greatly excited, and her voice broke under the stress of her feelings. “It doesn’t help the neighborhood, you understand, to have such things happen,” she ran on, “although nobody can say it’s not as quiet and respectable hereabouts as the next place. You’ve noticed as much yourself, I dare say. Nothing ever happens. A misfortune to all of us, I call it. Why, it’s barely two hours ago that they brought a poor fellow out of this very alley with his head lolloping around like a ball on a string. He fell and hurt himself, I hear, although he looked perfectly dead to me. Think of that! Two in one day. Oh, it doesn’t help the neighborhood, although there’s nobody in the whole block as would do another an injury, unless it might be that poor boy’s cousin, the old rip who lives in the fine house through yonder. He’s a bad one, far worse than Emile, if I do say it who never speaks ill of my neighbors. And there’s others besides me who’ll be sorry it isn’t him instead of the young man who lies there with a hole through his ribs. Why, I thought he was some masquerader, up to his carnival pranks, or drunk, perhaps, until I noticed him all over blood.”

Van Dam drew the speaker into her shop, which was near by, then handed her a bank-note. “Come! I want you to tell me all you know.”

“Ho! A detective, eh? Not that I wouldn’t tell you all I know without this–Ten dollars, is it? Peace and love! You are generous! Well, then, he has stood right in your tracks, in this very store, many’s the time. Law! What a lad he was! Nothing bad about him, but just reckless, we used to think. Of course that was before we learned the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“You must be a stranger. Why, the whole world knows the scandal. It made a commotion, I can tell you. But the poor lad! He’s paid for all his evil deeds. Why, sir, he was dead when he walked out into the street. He must have been a corpse even when I took him for a merrymaker. Strange things do happen on these carnival days. They must have finished him with one stroke. Ugh!”

“They? Whom do you mean?”

The old woman winked, and wagged her head sagely. “Oh! You’ll never learn who, but we know. You think the gang was broken up when Emile went to prison, but where do all these counterfeits come from, eh? Answer me that. There’s not a week goes by that one of them doesn’t find its way into my store. They’re perfect, or nearly so; it would take a bank-teller to find a flaw. I’m always frightened to death till I work them off again. For all I know, this very ten-dollar bill you gave me is bad, but I’ll risk it. Some people don’t seem to mind them at all, and so long as there’s a chance to get rid of them, why, I don’t object. But that’s how it all came about–through counterfeit money, sir. They used Emile for a cat’s-paw, so I’ve heard, but when he was caught they let him take his punishment. It was his cousin, Alfred Le Duc, who got him to confess, under promise of a light sentence. They do say the old rascal fooled him into it, for what reason nobody ever knew. Anyhow, they sent Emile away for ten years. He threatened to turn state’s evidence, and perhaps he would have done so if he hadn’t escaped.”