He awoke with a start to the sound of smashing glass, a sharp rattle of imprecations and a sense of being turned upside down. The front nearside wheel of the taxi was in a ditch, the wind screen broken and a large dray horse was trying to put its fore hoof through the buckled bonnet. The taxi driver had fallen out and lay cursing gently on the grass slope to the left, one of his legs was up to the knee in water. Through the offside window Cranbourne caught a glimpse of the man in charge of the dray horses--a powerful person, high perched, his weight thrown bask against the tightened reins--his face purple with effort. From his mouth came an admirable flow of oaths, choicely adjusted to suit the occasion. Then Cranbourne saw something else. Beneath the man's vibrating jaw showed the pleasant colours of an Old Etonian tie. There could be no mistaking it--neither could there be any reason why the driver of a Covent Garden dray should exhibit such an ensign. Cranbourne let the window down with a bang, stuck out his head and shouted, "Where the devil did you get that tie?" It is not hard to believe that this remark, apparently so irrelevant, did little to calm an already excited situation. The driver loosed his hold upon the reins, seized his whip and slashed it at Cranbourne's head. Cranbourne caught the whistling thong and tugged hard, with the result that the driver, who held on to the butt, lost his balance, pitched forward on to the flank of the nearside dray horse and rolled harmlessly on to the road. Cranbourne embraced the opportunity to get out, seized the bit rings of both horses and backed them away from the debris of the taxi. Meanwhile the driver picked himself up and removed his coat as a proper preliminary to engagement. "Put 'em up," he invited Cranbourne. "Put 'um up, you----" but the descriptive titles he employed do not affect the narrative. Cranbourne shook his head and tugged a note case from his pocket. "Five pounds," he said, "if you answer my question. Where did you get it?" The driver exhibited some sample upper cuts and left hooks and beseeched Cranbourne to guard himself. But Cranbourne detached a fiver from its fellows and extended it temptingly. "Don't you see I'm in earnest, man?" The tone of his voice had a sobering effect and the amateur pugilist ceased manoeuvring. "Why do you want to know?" he demanded. "Never mind that--take the money and tell me." "I got it," said the driver, "from a blame fool at the coffee stall by Hyde Park Corner. Bought 'im a doorstep and a ball of chalk b'way of return." "When was this?" "Day before yesterday--six o'clock in the morning." "And what was he like?" The answer clinched it. "Was he shaved?" "No." "Broke?" "I reckon. Been sleepin' out by the looks of 'im." "Seen him since?"