Poole questioned Mr. Lossett closely on the actual impact, and obtained a very clear statement. Lossett had seen the man before he actually struck against Sir Garth and was perfectly certain that no blow had been struck with the hand or with any instrument. He had stumbled against Sir Garth’s side, rather than his back, and had clutched the banker’s arm to prevent himself from falling. As for his appearance, he was decidedly tall and wore a black moustache. He had spoken in what Mr. Lossett described as a “genteel” voice, had apologized handsomely, saying that he was in a great hurry to get to the Admiralty, and, as Sir Garth appeared to be all right, had hurried off in the direction of that building. Lossett had not himself waited to see what became of Sir Garth, as he had not too much time in which to catch his train; he had been intensely surprised to read of the fatal outcome of the accident, as it had seemed to him so trivial. He put the time of the accident at somewhere between 6.15 and 6.30. The detective was distinctly disappointed by this account. It was so very clear and certain, and gave no indication as to how the banker had received the fatal blow in his back. No amount of cross-questioning could shake the hat-lusher on that vital point. Pondering over the problem which this evidence provided, Poole made his way to the Haymarket, where he found Mr. Ulred Tarker, a clerk in the offices of the Trans-Continental Railway Company. Mr. Tarker, interviewed in the manager’s own room, had not a great deal of light to throw on the subject. He had not noticed either the two bankers or the man who had stumbled against them before the occurrence; then, hearing a commotion behind him, he had looked round and seen what he believed to be two men supporting a third between them. Two of the figures were evidently elderly gentlemen of good standing, the third a younger man, dressed very much as ninety-nine men out of a hundred at that time and place, in the evening rush to one of the stations, would be dressed—a dark suit and either a bowler or a trilby hat—Mr. Tarker was not sure which. Although he had stopped for a second or two to see what the excitement was about, Mr. Tarker had soon realized that it was nothing interesting and had gone on his way, not noticing anything more about any of the three figures concerned. He had not seen any blow struck, but then he had not looked round till after the accident. The third man, the one not wearing a top-hat, had appeared to him middle-aged or getting on that way, and probably had a moustache. He had left the office soon after 6.15 and walked straight to the Duke’s Steps and so on to Westminster. That was all, and Poole felt that he had wasted his time.