Jimmy telegraphed the news to Lois at Halford, using for the benefit of the postal officials a code on which they had previously agreed. The information, he feared, would be a heavy blow to her. She had so confidently made up her mind that Cosgrove was the guilty man, and here was proof—to Daunt it seemed final and conclusive proof—of his innocence. Even Lois herself had admitted that if Cosgrove had indeed returned to his rooms after leaving King’s Cross, it would have been impossible for him to have visited Luce Manor—times and distances made that certain. Miss Belcher’s confirmation of his visit to the Follies, and the discovery of the other two taxi drivers were therefore not required. As matters stood, Cosgrove’s innocence was demonstrated. So Daunt reasoned, but not so Lois Drew. As she tossed sleepless on her bed that night she racked her brains for some flaw in the case, some loophole that might save her lover. But the more she thought it over, the more hopeless it seemed. As dawn brightened slowly into day she had to admit herself beaten. And then, just as a delightful drowsiness began to creep over her restless, wearied body, an idea flashed into her mind. She remained motionless, hardly daring to breathe as its full significance gradually dawned upon her. When it did so all chance of sleep vanished. Her eyes became very bright, and she laughed contentedly to herself. She travelled to town by an early train and was in Daunt’s office soon after it opened. She received his condolences quietly, then startled him by saying demurely: ‘I want you to send out another circular to the taxi-men, Jimmy. I have it here.’ The paper she handed him read: ‘Ten Pounds Reward ‘The above reward will be paid to the taxi driver who picked up a fare’—here followed a description of Cosgrove—‘about 7.50 on Wednesday evening, 7th July, in or near Knightsbridge, on his identifying the man picked up from a photograph, and saying where he was set down. Apply—’ and here followed Jimmy’s address. ‘But my dear girl,’ the latter objected, ‘we have already sent that out, or practically that.’ ‘Never mind, Jimmy,’ she said, with one of the brilliant smiles that lit up her face and made it momentarily beautiful. ‘Do this for me, and don’t ask questions.’ Before he realized what she was going to do, she had kissed him lightly on the forehead, and with a whirl of skirts was gone. ‘By Jove!’ said Jimmy weakly to himself as the door closed. ‘What bee has she got in her bonnet now? At any rate she might have waited and explained.’ But he did what he had been asked, and two days later the new circular was in the hands of the taxi-men. And it bore early fruit. Only a few hours after its distribution there was an answer. A small, sallow, rat-faced man in a peaked cap and leather coat called to see Daunt.