‘Dear Jimmy, you are so good. I can never thank you enough.’ ‘What utter rubbish. Now let’s get to work. Have you made any plans?’ ‘I thought perhaps we could get lists from the taxi companies of the men on the various stands. Then I thought we could see all those on the stands nearest the three starting points. If it was none of these could we not send a letter to each driver in London—get some office supplies place to do it, you know? If this failed we might try newspaper advertisements.’ ‘Excellent. We could get the lists of the men through Tanner, if he would give them. I’ll ring him up now.’ Inspector Tanner was at the Yard. On Daunt satisfying him as to the reason of the demand, he promised to have the information looked up and supplied. The next day the lists came and the cousins set off to commence their investigations. They saw a number of the men on the stands in question, others at the depots and still others at their homes. After three strenuous days they had gone over them all. But they learnt nothing. None of the men had driven Cosgrove. ‘It’s hopeful,’ Lois announced as they dined together that evening, ‘but we must now try the circular.’ They drafted a letter offering a reward of £5 for information as to the identity of the man who had driven a fare answering to Cosgrove’s description on any of the three trips in question. With this Daunt called to see Tanner on the following morning. He told him what they had done, and what they proposed, and asked for a complete list of the taxi and cab-drivers of London. Tanner, nothing loath to have his own conclusions verified, had the information made out. Then Daunt went to an office supplies firm in New Oxford Street, and arranged for a circular to be sent to each man on the list—several thousand. Two days passed and there was no answer, but on the third day a taxi-driver giving his name as John Hoskins called at Daunt’s office. Jimmy saw him at once. ‘It was abaht this ’ere letter,’ said the man. ‘I guess I’m the man you want.’ ‘Yes? You drove a fare on one of those trips on that Wednesday evening?’ ‘Yes, sir. I were just passing out of King’s Cross after setting down a lady and gent, when the gent ’e hails me, “Engaged?” ’e asks. “No, sir,” I says. “174B Knightsbridge,” ’e says. I drove ’im there, and that’s all I knows abaht it.’ Daunt opened a drawer and took out half a dozen cabinet photographs, which, in unconscious imitation of Tanner, he had procured. One was of Cosgrove, the others of men as like Cosgrove as Jimmy could find. ‘Is the man you drove among those?’ he asked, handing them over. The driver glanced over them and unhesitatingly picked out Cosgrove’s. ‘That’s ’im, mister,’ he said decisively. ‘And what time did you pick him up?’ ‘Abaht 7.30. I left ’im in Knightsbridge at a quarter to eight.’ ‘That’s all right, my man. It’s what I wanted to know. If you give me your name and address I’ll give you the five pounds.’