"Do you think they'll get him?" asked Ryer of the policeman. A dozen
necks craned forward eagerly.
"Hoh, we'll get him all right, easy enough," answered the other, with a
grand air.
"What? What's that? What did he say?" asked the people on the outskirts
of the group. Those in front passed the answer back.
"He says they'll get him all right, easy enough."
The group looked at the policeman admiringly.
"He's skipped to San Jose."
Where the rumor started, and how, no one knew. But every one seemed
persuaded that Zerkow had gone to San Jose.
"But what did he kill her for? Was he drunk?"
"No, he was crazy, I tell you--crazy in the head. Thought she was hiding
some money from him."
Frenna did a big business all day long. The murder was the one subject
of conversation. Little parties were made up in his saloon--parties of
twos and threes--to go over and have a look at the outside of the junk
shop. Heise was the most important man the length and breadth of Polk
Street; almost invariably he accompanied these parties, telling again
and again of the part he had played in the affair.
"It was about eleven o'clock. I was standing in front of the shop, when
Mrs.
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