"Dead?" Suydam cried. "That is very sad. When did she die?" "Ten days," the Italian replied. When Suydam and De Ruyter had made an end of their visit, and were going down the stairs cautiously, the young man from the University Settlement asked the novelist if he had seen anything interesting. "Oh yes," was the answer. "I've got lots of color; just what I wanted. And that Italian whose wife was mort--he's copy, I'm sure." "Copy?" queried Suydam. "I mean I can use him in one of my sketches for the _Metropolis_," the novelist explained. "I wish I knew what his wife was like." "She was a pretty girl--dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a lively smile," Suydam said. "He was very jealous of her. I've been told they used to quarrel bitterly." "I shouldn't like to have that fellow for an enemy," De Ruyter declared, as they passed through the alleyway and came out in the open air. "He has an eye like a glass stiletto." The novelist and the young man from the University Settlement walked up the street together. As they drew near to a police-station, jealously guarded by its green lamps, three officers came out and turned down the street. When the policemen were abreast of the two friends, one of them stepped aside and accosted the young man from the Settlement. "Mr. Suydam," he said, "you gentlemen from the Settlement sometimes know what's going on better than we do. Have you seen Pietro Barretti lately--the one they call Italian Pete?" "I saw him not ten minutes ago--in his own room," Suydam answered. "He's all right, boys," cried the policeman. "He's there." "Do you want him?" asked Suydam. "Don't we?" the policeman replied, promptly. "We've got to bring him in." "What has he done?" De Ruyter inquired. "Oh, he's done enough!" responded the officer. "He murdered his wife last week, that's what he's done." Suydam looked at De Ruyter. "Yes," said De Ruyter, "that completes the picture. I can get a good _mot de la fin_ now." (1893.) BEFORE THE BREAK OF DAY