"Did you read about that French restaurant murder last night?"
"Well, I glanced at the story in one of the papers."
"This Frenchman here is a waiter in the place. He saw me in an elevated train just now, and told this other man, who is a detective, that I was the party who took that woman to the restaurant.
"That was bad enough, but when they found out what my name was, they convicted me immediately. It appears that the visitor to the restaurant signed the very uncommon name of John Jones on the books."
"Why, what the devil!" exclaimed Allen, looking wrathfully at poor Gaspard, who was shaking in his shoes. "Don't you know that this is a serious matter? What do you mean?"
"He is the man," cried Gaspard. "If I were dying, I would swear with my last breath that he is the man."
"But who's the woman?" asked Allen, turning to Nick. "And what has she to do with my partner?"
"That I cannot say," replied Nick; "she has not been identified."
"Then you have absolutely nothing to go upon except this fellow's word?"
"Nothing."