With the newspaper files before me, it is not hard to give the details of that sensational trial.  It commenced on Monday, the seventh of May, but it was late Wednesday when the jury was finally selected.  I was at the court-house early on Thursday, and so was Mr. Reynolds.

The district attorney made a short speech.  “We propose, gentlemen, to prove that the prisoner, Philip Ladley, murdered his wife,” he said in part.  “We will show first that a crime was committed; then we will show a motive for this crime, and, finally, we expect to show that the body washed ashore at Sewickley is the body of the murdered woman, and thus establish beyond doubt the prisoner’s guilt.”

Mr. Ladley listened with attention.  He wore the brown suit, and looked well and cheerful.  He was much more like a spectator than a prisoner, and he was not so nervous as I was.

Of that first day I do not recall much.  I was called early in the day.  The district attorney questioned me.

“Your name?”

“Elizabeth Marie Pitman.”

“Your occupation?”

“I keep a boarding-house at 42 Union Street.”

“You know the prisoner?”

“Yes.  He was a boarder in my house.”

“For how long?”

“From December first.  He and his wife came at that time.”

“Was his wife the actress, Jennie Brice?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Were they living together at your house the night of March fourth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In what part of the house?”

“They rented the double parlors down-stairs, but on account of the flood I moved them up-stairs to the second floor front.”

“That was on Sunday?  You moved them on Sunday?”

“Yes, sir.”

“At what time did you retire that night?”

“Not at all.  The water was very high.  I lay down, dressed, at one o’clock, and dropped into a doze.”

“How long did you sleep?”

“An hour or so.  Mr. Reynolds, a boarder, roused me to say he had heard some one rowing a boat in the lower hall.”

“Do you keep a boat around during flood times?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you do when Mr. Reynolds roused you?”

“I went to the top of the stairs.  My boat was gone.”

“Was the boat secured?”

“Yes, sir.  Anyhow, there was no current in the hall.”

“What did you do then?”

“I waited a time and went back to my room.”

“What examination of the house did you make—­if any?”

“Mr. Reynolds looked around.”

“What did he find?”

“He found Peter, the Ladleys’ dog, shut in a room on the third floor.”

“Was there anything unusual about that?”

“I had never known it to happen before.”

“State what happened later.”

“I did not go to sleep again.  At a quarter after four, I heard the boat come back.  I took a candle and went to the stairs.  It was Mr. Ladley.  He said he had been out getting medicine for his wife.”