"What's the trouble, Holcombe?" he asked. "Hitting the trail again?"
"A very curious thing that I just happened on," said Mr. Holcombe. "Mrs. Pitman, this is Mr. Howell, of whom I spoke. Sit down, Howell, and let me read you something."
With the crumpled paper still unopened in his hand, Mr. Holcombe took his note-book and read aloud what he had written. I have it before me now:
"'Dog meat, two dollars, boat hire'—that's not it. Here. 'Yesterday, Sunday, March the 4th, Mrs. Pitman, landlady at 42 Union Street, heard two of her boarders quarreling, a man and his wife. Man's name, Philip Ladley. Wife's name, Jennie Ladley, known as Jennie Brice at the Liberty Stock Company, where she has been playing small parts.'"
Mr. Howell nodded. "I've heard of her," he said. "Not much of an actress, I believe."
"'The husband was also an actor, out of work, and employing his leisure time in writing a play.'"
"Everybody's doing it," said Mr. Howell idly.
"The Shuberts were to star him in this," I put in. "He said that the climax at the end of the second act—"
Mr. Holcombe shut his note-book with a snap. "After we have finished gossiping," he said, "I'll go on."
"'Employing his leisure time in writing a play—'" quoted Mr. Howell.