"It's straight enough, Leverage. The railroad company won't allow a single passenger to occupy a drawing-room--that is, they demand two tickets. If you, for instance, were traveling alone, and desired a drawing-room, you'd be compelled to have two tickets for yourself. That being so, it is plain that Warren there didn't intend making this trip to New York alone. If he had, he would have had the two tickets along with the drawing-room check. I am certain that two tickets were bought, because the railroad men won't sell a drawing-room with a single ticket. It is obvious, then, that he bought two tickets and gave the other one to the person who was to make the trip with him." "The woman, of course!" "What woman?" "The woman in the fur coat--the one who got into the taxicab." "Perhaps; but she came in on the accommodation train after the New York train was due to leave. The fast train was late." "So was the accommodation. They are due to make connection." "That's true. If we can find that ticket--" "We'll have found the woman, and when we find her the case will end." "Probably--" The door opened, and Sergeant O'Leary entered. "The coroner, sorr--him an' a reporter from each av the mornin' papers." "Show the coroner in first," ordered Carroll. "Let the newspapermen wait." "Yis, sorr. They seem a bit impatient, sorr. They say they're holdin' up the city edition for the news, sorr." "Very good. Tell them Chief Leverage says the story is worth waiting for." The coroner--a short, thick-set man--entered and heard the story from Leverage's lips. He made a cursory examination and nodded to Carroll. "Inquest in the morning, Mr. Carroll. Meanwhile, I reckon you want to let them newspapermen in." The two reporters entered and listened popeyed to the story. They telephoned a bulletin to their offices, and were assured of an hour's leeway in phoning in the balance of the story. They were quivering with excitement over what promised to be, from a newspaper standpoint, the juiciest morsel of sensational copy with which the city had been blessed for some time. To them Carroll recounted the story as he knew it, concealing nothing. "This is a great space-eating story," he told them in their own language--the jargon of the fourth estate--"and the more it eats the better it'll be for me. We want publicity on this case--all you can hand out big chunks of it. We want to know who that woman was. The way I figure it, this city is going to get a jolt at breakfast. Every one is going to be comparing notes. Out of that mass of gossip we may get some valuable information. Get that?" "We do. Space in the morning edition will be limited, but by evening, and the next morning--oh, baby!" They took voluminous notes and telephoned in enough additional information to keep the city rooms busy. When they would have gone, Carroll stopped them. "Either of you chaps know anything of Warren's personal history?" The elder of the two nodded.