The young man nodded.  “Yes.  When I went to your apartment the morning after the killing, it was for the purpose of confessing.  But then when you assured me that my sister was not under suspicion—­I decided to wait awhile before saying anything.”  He paused—­“And as to that night—­I parked my car a couple of blocks away and walked to the station through Jackson Street, intending to cut through the yards and approach the waiting room from the passenger platform.  I had no idea that—­that there would be—­a tragedy.  I wanted to reason with Warren; to beg him to save my sister from suffering which I knew would be attendant on—­his elopement.

“He was walking in the yards as I entered from between the Pullman building and the baggage room.  I don’t know what he was doing there—­but I spoke to him.  He seemed startled at seeing me.  I told him that I knew he was planning to elope—­and begged him to call it off.

“Much to my surprise, he immediately got nasty.  He seemed to want to get rid of me.  He told me it was none of my damned business what he was doing.  He even admitted the truth of what I said.

“That was the first hint of unpleasantness.  But it grew—­rapidly.  He cursed me—­anyway we had a brief, violent quarrel.  He said something about my sister and I struck him.  He clinched with me.  We were fighting then—­and I am a fairly good athlete.  I broke out of a clinch and hit him pretty hard.  He reached into his pocket and pulled a revolver.  I managed to grab his hand before he could fire.  I got it from him, and as I jerked it away—­it went off.  He fell—­

“I was afraid then—­panicky.  I felt his body and realized that he was dead.  A train had just come into the yards and there were switch engines puffing here and there—­I was apprehensive that one of their headlights would pick me up.  And there were some railroad men walking around the yards with lanterns in their hands.  There was danger that I was going to be seen—­and, had I been, I felt that I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on; alone in such a place with the body of a man whom I admitted having shot—­

“You see, I couldn’t even prove the contemplated elopement.  Late that evening I had received an anonymous telephone call from a man telling me that if I wanted to save my sister a good deal of unpleasant gossip, I’d better meet that midnight train as Warren was eloping on it with some other woman.  But the man who gave me this information cut off before telling me the name of the woman.  I didn’t know it then—­and I don’t know it now.

“I knew I had to hide Warren’s body; not that my killing was not justified on the grounds of self-defense, but because I would not bring my sister’s name into it—­and also because even if I did, there’d be no proof of the truth of what I said.

“I dragged his body into the shadows between the two buildings.  Atlantic Avenue was deserted.  At the curb I saw a yellow taxicab and noticed that the driver was in the restaurant across the street.  I conceived the idea of putting the body in the taxicab—­I knew I wouldn’t be seen doing it, and it would serve the purpose of causing the body to be discovered at some point other than that at which the shooting occurred.