forward, and by the hand of Mrs. Earle was dragged back, he did not
appear to know it.

"Police headquarters?" they heard him ask. "I want to speak to the
commissioner. This is the district attorney"

In the pause that followed, as though to torment her, the pain, in
her side apparently turned, for the girl screamed sharply.

"Be still!" commanded the older woman. Breathless, across the top
of the arm-chair, she was leaning forward. Upon the man at the
telephone her eyes were fixed in fascination.

"Commissioner," said the district attorney, "this is Wharton
speaking. A woman has made a charge of attempted murder to me
against my brother-in-law, Hamilton Cutler. On account of our
relationship, I want you to make the arrest. If there were any
slip, and he got away, it might be said I arranged it. You will
find him at the Winona apartments on the Southern Boulevard, in the
private hospital of a Doctor Samuel Muir. Arrest them both. The
girl who makes the charge is at Kessler's Cafe, on the Boston Post
Road, just inside the city line. Arrest her too. She tried to
blackmail me. I'll appear against her."

Wharton rose and addressed himself to Mrs. Earle.

"I'm, sorry," he said, "but I had to do it. You might have known I
could not hush it up. I am the only man who can't hush it up. The
people of New York elected me to enforce the laws." Wharton's voice
was raised to a loud pitch. It seemed unnecessarily loud. It was