borrowed five dollars from him, nevertheless, and then invented a story about having lost the money to escape paying it back. The next evening, when Ingham returned to his lodgings, he found Mrs. Sanford in a sad plight; one eye was wholly closed and discolored, while her whole face was bruised and inflamed to such an extent as to make her an unpleasant object to look at. Charlie Stokes, the policeman, was sitting by the stove, and Mrs. Sanford, with her head done up in wet towels, was moaning on the sofa. She explained that Mrs. Graves had been there, and had seized her by the throat, beaten, scratched, and kicked her until she was perfectly helpless from her injuries. Charlie, the policeman, was trying to condole with her, but he was evidently out of favor, for she finally told him to go out and not bother her any longer. Ingham told her that she certainly ought to have Mrs. Graves arrested and punished severely, and he petted her so nicely that she said he was her best friend, and that she would do anything for him. He prepared a dressing for her black eye, and got some supper for her, telling her that on Monday--that day being Saturday--she ought to get out a warrant for the arrest of Mrs. Graves. "Why didn't you hit her with the poker?" he asked. "I did pick it up," she replied, "but I was afraid to hit her for fear I should kill her." "Well, it would have served her just right, for she had no business to attack you first." "I know that; but if I had killed her, just think how awful it would be! Why, her ghost would haunt me forever after. I don't want to be haunted. I'm afraid now to go into the room where Trafton died, and I wouldn't go in there alone after dark for fifty dollars."