We went in. I closed the door and noticed there was a spring lock that clicked into position. I said, “I don’t know the details. I understand the Santa Carlotta paper is to publish it the same time we do.”
“And who was it sent you?” she asked.
“Why, John,” I said. “John Harbet. He said you knew all about it.”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “You’ll excuse me if I’m a little cautious. Here’s the story. I think you know the first part of it, how my husband ran away and left me absolutely destitute.”
“Didn’t you get some property?” I asked.
She snapped her fingers and said, “A mere sop! I didn’t get enough money out of it to keep me for two years. It’s been twenty-one years since he ran away with that hussy. I’ve been searching for him, trying to find him. The other day I located him, and where do you think he was?”
“Santa Carlotta?” I asked.
She said, “Is that a good guess or did John tell you?”
“It’s more than a good guess,” I said.
“Well, he’s in Santa Carlotta, all right, under the name of Dr. Charles Loring Alftmont. He’s living shamelessly and openly with that Carter girl, and they have the crust to pose in the community as man and wife, but the most startling thing of all is he’s running for mayor. Can you imagine that?”