“Yes. But I had to get some more money, and Johnson was the only one I could get it from without puttin’ up some kind of security. He wouldn’t even take a note from me. I might’ve known that was kind of funny. But he was polite enough. Until—well, one time he made advances to me, but I managed to get away from him. I didn’t see him for a couple of weeks. I was flat broke again. Then the other day, I got a note. It said to come up here about a job. When I saw the address I didn’t like the looks of it. But I figured I’d take a chance anyway. Then when I was takin’ a dress out of my trunk I saw that gun, and somethin’, I don’t know what, told me to take it. Warned me to take it along. So I put it in my bag.”

Babe moistened her lips and continued rapidly.

“When I got here, Money Johnson opened the door. As soon as I was inside he locked it. I could tell from the look in his eyes that it was all a frame-up. Without sayin’ anything he grabbed me and ripped my dress off. See here—” She picked up her black lace dress, now badly torn, and showed it to the Bearcat. “He tore it right off me—and then—Oh, it’s too horrible to think about! He kept me here. Wouldn’t let me go. I thought of the gun in my bag. But he was always watching. After a while he gave me something to drink. There must have been something in it, for I was dead to the world for hours and hours. When I woke up, it was this morning. All day he watched me so I daren’t get to my bag. Then a while ago I looked out through the shutter and saw you standing down there. I thanked God for sending you to me. I couldn’t cry out then, or attract your attention, for he threatened that if I screamed or tried to get away he’d kill me. Then, thinkin’ he had me scared to death, he walked back through the rooms to the kitchen to get something. I saw my chance to sneak the gun out of my bag to protect myself. When he came back in here, I—I shot him!”

Babe’s head sank forward, her whole body seemed penitent.

“You had a right to kill him,” the Bearcat said, his jaw tightening. “The dirty rat! Nobody’ll blame ya for shootin’ him.”

Babe looked up with a wild appeal in her eyes.