"Why I walked toward the water instead of toward Broadway and the car-line I do not know. A hard fate controlled my movements"—he sighed heavily—"and I went to meet—trouble. On reaching the wharf I saw, at the water end, a man and a woman. Their backs were toward me and they were talking, the woman angrily, the man calmly, but firmly. The woman was Cora Reesey. The man John Dashwood. 'I tell you, Gabriel Leonard will approve,' I heard her say. 'He is a bigamist, and he promised to pay me the money to-night. You will be doing him a favor by handing it over to me.'
"'Before I do anything of the kind I must have an authorization,' Dashwood said, 'and so you will have to wait until to-morrow. I don't know what Mr. Leonard will do then, but I know what I would do if I were in his place. I would put you in jail for blackmail. I would defy you to do your worst.'
"'You would, would you?' she hissed, and then I saw her arm shoot out. There was a knife in her hand, and she struck to kill, but, owing to Dashwood's quick movement aside, only cut the flesh on his arm. But the force of the rush sent her forward past him, and her dress caught on a projecting broken piece of hoop on a barrel, and she stumbled and fell, bringing the barrel with her.
"I was hurrying forward," Leonard went on, his voice now showing some animation, "when I saw her arise with some heavy substance in her hand. It was a section of old iron pipe, which was within sight and reach when she fell. Before I could get to her she struck John Dashwood, who was looking not at her but at me at the time, a powerful blow on the head. I got to the scene to find Dashwood lying senseless on the planking, and Cora Reesey busily engaged in searching his pockets for the bank-notes.
"At my approach she lifted her head. The notes were in her hand.
"'So it is you,' she said coolly. 'Very well, then, for I here make acknowledgment that I have received the money agreed upon as my price for keeping silent regarding certain events in your past life.'
"Without answering her, I bent over Dashwood and placed my ear against his heart. It was beating faintly. He might live. But I did not voice my hope to her. Instead, I said: 'You have killed him.' 'I don't care,' was her cold, heartless reply. 'And I am safe,' she added quickly, 'for you will not betray me. You dare not open your mouth against me, for if you do I will tell my story and denounce you as the murderer.'
"Again imagine my feelings. I could not do as I wished, for I was in this terrible woman's power. I said: 'Have no fear. I shall keep my lips closed.' 'Good,' was her response; 'and for your discretion I will give you five thousand dollars. Fifteen thousand will suffice for me.' She counted out the money and handed it to me. I took the notes and put them in my pocket. Next she gave me the documents which she had obtained in California. These I examined by the aid of matches, and, finding them to be as represented, I tore them up and threw the pieces in the river. When the woman had gone, my first impulse was to hunt up a policeman, have the nearest station notified, and John Dashwood removed to the receiving hospital. But as I stood on the wharf my eyes fell on Luke Filbon's boat. I wished to escape, if possible, the notoriety with which I must be invested if the assault became public property; of the danger to which I might be subjected if John Dashwood died. The sight of the boat suggested a way to avoid publicity. I could take Dashwood down the river to my friend Doctor Holcomb's sanatorium. There he would be properly treated, and, while under treatment, I would be given time for arranging my affairs, preparatory to leaving St. Louis."
"And Dashwood?" asked Nick, as Leonard paused for a moment. "Is the danger-point passed?"
"Yes. The operation which restored his reason was performed this afternoon. He will live, he will have his mind. If you wish to see him, come with me."