I wiped the perspiration from my forehead and assuming as calm an air as possible, went up-stairs. Mary was chatting with the little interne, but as soon as she saw my face, she hurried toward me. "You look as though you'd seen a ghost. What was it, Bupps?" "Not here!" I cautioned. "Wait until we get outside!" We walked down the broad sunlit steps and climbed into the car. I felt like a traitor to let Mary even think that I suspected Helen, but my questions had to be answered. "Will you have luncheon with me, Mary?" "Certainly," she answered. "Let's go to Luigi's. We can talk quietly there." I headed for down-town and kept my eyes on the road, dreading to put my questions into words. "What was it, Bupps?" Mary asked. I decided to ask what I had to ask before telling her the coroner's verdict. "Did you see Helen leave the house with Jim yesterday?" "Yes. I was looking out the window when they started. Why?" I could hardly force myself to go on. "Was Helen--did Helen get into the front seat with Jim?" I faltered. "No. She climbed into the back," Mary replied. "They had some sort of an argument before they left. I knew Jim was excited and that Helen was angry. Of course I didn't hear all that passed between them, I tried not to hear any, but they talked very loud and were right in the next room." "What did you hear?" I asked, my heart sinking. "Once Jim laughed, a hard sort of laugh, and I heard Helen say, 'You lie! You know you are lying! He will disprove everything you say!' Another time I heard Helen exclaim, 'Give me that pistol! You shan't threaten him while I'm there!' I knew, of course, they were speaking of Frank Woods, but I didn't know what it was all about. But why do you ask all this, Bupps?" "Mary," I said, and I couldn't look at her, "the coroner has given a verdict of murder." "Murder?" Mary gasped. I nodded. "Jim was shot from behind, while he was driving Helen out to the country-club to meet Woods, and Helen was in the back seat." "She didn't do it!" Mary burst out. "She couldn't have done it." "Of course she didn't do it!" I exploded. We were glaring at each other as though each was defending Helen from the other's accusation. "We know she didn't do it, but there are many who won't take our word for it. I could see by the way the coroner looked at me this morning that he is ready to accuse her of murdering Jim, and it's up to us to save her, by finding out who really is guilty." We drove up in front of Luigi's, and I was able to get a small table, in the corner by ourselves. Although no one could have overheard us, I sat as near Mary as I could and we talked with our heads close together. Mrs. Webster Pratt came in the door just then, with a luncheon party, and, noticing how we were engrossed, came bouncing over to the table at once. "Poor Mr. Thompson, my heart bleeds for you--simply bleeds for you."