"Yes. Did you ever know a romance that didn't include a woman? And this one of mine included a corpse, too." "Shot and stabbed?" "Both--in the streets of 'Frisco six or seven years ago. The man's name was Anchor." "Are you talking of the corpse?" asked Lancaster, settling himself. "Of what else. He was a lucky miner, and, having made no end of money, he built a new raw palace near 'Frisco, where he settled with his wife." "Ah!" said Frank, intelligently, "she's the woman." "Quite so, and I loved her for all I was worth, till I found her out." "Eustace," remarked Lancaster, finding these details scrappy, "if you will start in an' sail plainly, I won't interrupt." Jarman took a pull at his pipe. "I'll give the gist of it in a few words," said he, slowly. "I was doing some journalistic work in 'Frisco, and ran across Anchor. He was a big, burly, rough chap, but a whacking good sort. We chummed up, and he invited me to see him. I was introduced to Mrs. Anchor, and fell in love with her." "What was she like?" "You promised not to interrupt. Never mind what she was like. My taste then is not my taste now." "Mildred!" thought Frank, but said nothing. "I think she liked me more than a little. But after I visited at her house for a time, I found that Anchor was turning nasty." "Jealous, I suppose?" Eustace nodded. "But upon my soul he had no cause to be. I was as straight as a die. It's not my fashion to loot other men's wives. I think Mrs. Anchor did her best to make him jealous. After a time I became sure, and then found out--it matters not how--that she wished to get rid of her husband. I was to be the man to remove him." "Confound! Did she want you to murder the man?" "Well, that was her idea. But all this I didn't find out for a long time. Anchor grew nasty, and I rarely went to his house. But Mrs. Anchor used to come and see me in the city sometimes." "Was that quite straight?" "No, it wasn't, in one way. But, you see, she came to tell me that she was afraid that her husband would kill her. I wasn't up to her game then. A third man came in. His name was Sakers--a nasty, dry, bad-tempered chap. He and Mrs. Anchor became thick as thieves. Then she gave me the go-by." "Oh! I suppose she hoped Sakers would kill her husband?" "Yes. It seemed that Anchor was ruined. His wife spent all his money, and the raw new palace was sold. The pair came to live at 'Frisco, and Sakers loafed on the Front with Mrs. Anchor." "Were you still in love with her?" "I was. I tell you, Frank, I really did love that woman. She was the most fascinating woman I ever met, and I've flirted with them in all countries. Well, after a time, she chucked Sakers and came to me. I gathered that she knew of some money which could be got if her husband was out of the way." "How?"