the men whom I was compelled to bring to justice, and in many cases the
criminals themselves have acknowledged my actions, and have been better
men in consequence. But this is a digression, and we will return to our
narrative.

Rising to his feet, the detective politely acknowledged the salutation
of Mrs. Edwards, and in as few words as possible he stated his errand.
With painful embarrassment of manner, Mrs. Edwards informed him that
she could not tell him anything about her husband's movements, as,
contrary to his usual custom, he had not informed her of the route he
intended to take when he left home. Not a word or a hint was given of
the trouble that was preying upon her heart, of the harsh, unfeeling
treatment to which she had been subjected, or of the brutal order,
expulsion and separation. The dignity of the noble little woman
sustained her grandly, and no confession of her wrongs escaped her lips.
She then informed the detective that she expected to hear from him every
day, and that she believed he was now traveling through Wisconsin.

That she was entirely unaware, at present at least, of her husband's
whereabouts, the operative was firmly convinced; and she appeared to be
equally uninformed of the suspicions that were entertained regarding
him.

After a few moments spent in friendly converse, the detective arose to
take his leave; and after being invited to renew his visit, he departed
from the house.

"By George!" murmured Everman to himself, as he made his way back to the
hotel; "that little woman is a wife to be proud of. That she knows
nothing at present I am fully convinced, but I am also certain that if