Mrs. Balfame stood up. "Really, gentlemen, I did not consent to see you in order to help you solve riddles. But possibly you know better than I that gunmen generally travel in pairs. I am convinced that my husband--" (they applauded her for not saying "my poor husband") "was killed by one of those creatures, hired by his political enemies. Unless I can tell you something more of interest--if, indeed, you have found anything to interest the great New York public in this interview--I will ask you to excuse me." The young men were politely on their feet. "And you have no pistol--nor ever had?" She laughed outright. "Are you trying to fasten the crime on me?" "Oh, no, indeed. Only, in a case like this, one leaves no stone unturned--I hope you do not think we are rude." "I only just realise that quite the most polite young men I have ever met have been hoping to make me incriminate myself. If I had not been so dense I should have dismissed you long since. Good night." And, once more looking human in her just indignation, she lifted her proud head and swept out of the room. The young men left the house and adjourned to a private room in the rear of their favourite saloon. For twenty minutes they rehearsed the interview carefully, those that had taken notes correcting any lapses of memory on the part of those that had elected to watch as well as listen. Broderick and many of the men were firmly of the opinion that Mrs. Balfame had committed the crime; others believed that she was shielding some one else; the less experienced were equally positive that no guilty woman taken off her guard repeatedly, as she had been, could "put it over" like that. She had "talked and acted like an innocent woman." "She acted, all right," said Broderick. "I for one am convinced that she did it. But whether she did or didn't, she's got to be indicted and tried. This case, boys, is too big to throw away--too damned big; and she's already a personality to the public. She's the only one we have the ghost of a chance with; the only one whose arrest and trial would keep the interest going--" "But say!" It was the youngest reporter that interrupted. "I call it lowdown to fasten a crime on a possibly innocent woman--a lady--keep her in jail for months; try her for murder! Why, even if she were acquitted, she would carry the stigma through life."