claimed Miss Chichester. "Wait till I tell you the rest, and then let me hear you dare to defend her, Barry Malleson."
"Proceed," said Westgate soberly.
"Well, I made up my mind that things weren't right, and that I'd see it out. So I had Albert drive downtown again. I knew that those Factory Hill people usually cross the foot-bridge instead of going around, so I gave them time to get there, and then we drove up Brook Street, past the entrance to the foot-bridge. Sure enough they were just going across. I had Albert stop the car so I could get a good square look at them. They were so interested in each other that they didn't see or hear us. And now what do you think?"
She turned first to Westgate and then to Barry to prepare them for the awful disclosure she was about to make. Her question was in the nature of a shock-absorber.
"This is getting serious," said Westgate, straightening up. "Are you sure it was Mrs. Bradley?"
"Positively certain!"
"And Stephen Lamar?"
"I couldn't be mistaken."
"Barry, have you any questions you desire to ask in order to test the witness's knowledge before she makes the final disclosure?"
"I don't see that what she's saying concerns me particularly," replied Barry. "I don't object to Mrs. Bradley having company home. It's rather a lonesome route across the bridge and up the hill. She ought to have somebody with her, going that way after dark."
"But," protested Jane, "think whom she chose to go with her. A man who isn't a fit companion for men, let alone for women."
"I don't think much of his theories," replied Barry, "but I never heard that he was positively bad."
"Barry Malleson! What do you call a bad man,
