As he was dancing with her when her toothache became unendurable, it was natural that he should see her home; in fact, he always saw her home when it was convenient. Of course if he had to catch the last trolley for Dobton in a hurry, that was another matter. When she had entered the house, he had waited, thinking she might want some other drops or possibly a dentist. Once when he had had a toothache, he had been obliged to go to a dentist's house at night. His papa had sent him, and naturally he thought of it as a possibility in Frieda's case. Then the kitchen door opened and a woman came out. At this point the interest in the court-room became intense. Even the blase young reporters sat forward, their pencils poised. The Judge wheeled his chair to the right and stared down fixedly at the back of young Kraus' head. The district attorney balanced himself on his heels, his thumbs hooked in the sleeves of his vest, and Rush stood with his back curved as if to spring down the witness' throat with a wild yell of "Immaterial, irrelevant and incompetent." Only Mrs. Balfame sat like a statue that had neither eyes to see nor ears to hear. Yes, Mr. Kraus recognised Mrs. Balfame's figure and walk. She was one in a thousand for looks, and taller than many men. She had on a long dark ulster and a black scarf round her head. The kitchen light was behind her-- Here there was another furious contest between the chief counsel and the district attorney, but the Judge ordered the young man (who had consumed a toothpick imperturbably) to proceed with his story. Mrs. Balfame had slipped round the corner of the house, listened intently, walked for a minute toward the back of the grounds,--he could just see the moving shadow in the darkness,--turned abruptly and entered the grove. Naturally interested, he waited to see what she was up to; and then--possibly three or four minutes later--he heard Balfame singing "Tipperary," and a moment or two after that the shot,--one shot, not two; he took no stock in the theory that there had been two shots,--followed by loud voices from the other side of the avenue. Then he "beat it," that being his natural instinct at the moment. His papa had taught him to be cautious and to keep clear of other people's fights. He had never been close up against a crime, and he hoped he never should be. He walked through the adjoining grounds at the back and then into Balfame Street and took the next trolley home. He didn't feel like dancing after what he guessed had happened.