ded in the extract of report sent to you. This is going to be
the biggest case of my professional career, or my name is not Robert
Dunbar!"

Closing his notebook, he thrust it into his pocket, and replaced his
fountain-pen in the little leather wallet.

"Of course," said the solicitor, rising in turn, and adjusting the
troublesome pince-nez, "there was some intrigue with Leroux? So much is
evident."

"You will be thinking that, eh?"

"My dear Inspector"--Mr. Debnam, the wily, was seeking information--"my
dear Inspector, Leroux's own wife was absent in Paris--quite a safe
distance; and Mrs. Vernon (now proven to be a woman conducting a love
intrigue) is found dead under most compromising circumstances--MOST
compromising circumstances--in his flat! His servants, even, are got
safely out of the way for the evening"...

"Quite so," said Dunbar, shortly, "quite so, Mr. Debnam." He opened the
door. "Might I see the late Mrs. Vernon's maid?"

"She is at her home. As I told you, Mrs. Vernon habitually released her
for the period of these absences."

The notebook reappeared.

"The young woman's address?"

"You can get it from the housekeeper. Is there anything else you wish to
know?"

"Nothing beyond that, thank you."

Three minutes later, Inspector Dunbar had written in his book:--Clarice
Goodstone, c/o Mrs. Herne, 134a Robert Street, Hampstead Road, N. W.

He departed from the house whereat Death the Gleaner had twice knocked
with his Scythe.

VIII

CABMAN TWO

Returning to Scotland Yard, Inspector Dunbar walked straight up to
his own room. There he found Sowerby, very red faced and humid, and a
taximan who sat stolidly surveying the Embankment from the window.

"Hullo!" cried Dunbar; "he's turned up, then?"

"No, he hasn't," replied Sowerby with a mild irritation. "But we know
where to find him, and he ought to lose his license."

The taximan turned hurriedly. He wore a muffler so tightly packed
between his neck and the collar of his uniform jacket, that it appeared
materially to impair his respiration. His face possessed a bluish tinge,
suggestive of asphyxia, and his watery eyes protruded remarkably; his
breathing was noisily audible.

"No, chuck it, mister!" he exclaimed. "I'm only tellin' you 'cause it
ain't my line to play tricks on the police. You'll find my name in
the books downstairs more'n any other driver in London! I reckon I've
brought enough umbrellas, cameras, walkin' sticks, h