"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?"
"Well, I didn't inquire. She proposed so plainly that I should shoot Anchor--seeing that even her pranks couldn't make him jealous enough to get up a duel--that I grew angry. That was an eye-opener. But even then if she'd dropped the business I might have gone on loving her, but she up and slanged me properly. Then I saw what a bad mind she had, and showed her the door. What her scheme was I don't know. After that, a week later, Anchor came to see me."
"To make trouble?"
"No, poor chap. He came to make it up. Said that he had been mistaken in me, and that he didn't believe all the lies that were told about my being in love with Mrs. Anchor. Then he cried, and said that she had bolted with Sakers."
"Why wasn't he man enough to follow, and shoot?"
"He was off that night to Chicago, where the two had gone. But he came to see me to explain. It seemed that there was some money--about a million--that he had something to do with. He promised to see me again before he left for Chicago, and to give me some papers about the matter. It was by the midnight train he was going, and he was to call back at eight. I went to the door of my house with him--it was in a quiet side street, and we stood chatting at the door."
"But why didn't he bring the papers with him?" asked Frank.
"He didn't know if I'd take them, and, moreover, was afraid of being robbed and killed by--well, I can't say who by, but Sakers was mixed up in the business."
"I see. Mrs. Anchor had told Sakers what she told you, and he, less scrupulous, intended to kill Anchor to get these papers."