"I've come 'ere, sir, to tell you the truth. I'll tell you all I know," he added, "providing I'm not going to get into any trouble." "Not if you are not an accomplice," Smeaton said, his keen eyes fixed upon his visitor. The man paused and then with considerable apprehension said: "Well--I don't know 'ow I can be really an accomplice. All I know about it is that I was passin' into Victoria Street goin' towards the station, when three gentlemen standin' under a lamp just opposite the entrance to Dean's Yard hailed me. I pulls up when I sees that two of 'em 'ad got another gentleman by the arms. `Look 'ere, driver,' says one of 'em, `this friend of ours 'as 'ad a drop too much wine, and we don't want to go 'ome with 'im because of 'is wife. Will you take 'im? 'E lives in Chesterfield Street, just off Curzon Street,' and 'e gives me the number." "Yes," said Smeaton anxiously. "And what then?" "Well, sir, 'e gives me five bob and puts the gentleman into my cab, and I drove 'im to the address, where 'is servant took charge of 'im. Did 'e really die afterwards?" he asked eagerly. "Yes--unfortunately he did," was the police official's reply. "But tell me, Davies. Did you get a good look at the faces of the two men?" "Yes, sir. They were all three under the lamp." "Do you think you could recognise both of them again--eh?" "Of course I could. Why, one of 'em I've seen about lots o' times. Indeed, only yesterday, about three o'clock, while I was waitin' on the rank in the Strand, opposite the Savoy, I saw 'im come out with a lady, and drive away in a big grey car. If I'd a known then, sir, I could 'ave stopped 'im!" CHAPTER FIVE. CONTAINS SOME CURIOUS FACTS. At the beginning of the interview, the demeanour of the taxi-driver had betrayed signs of nervousness and trepidation. He had hesitated and stumbled in his speech, so much so that Smeaton, the detective, was still in doubt as to his honesty. Smeaton, however, was a past-master in the art of dealing with a difficult witness. So reassuring was his manner that at the end of five minutes he had succeeded in inspiring the taxi-driver with confidence. His nervousness and hesitation were succeeded by loquacity. Urged to give a description of the two men, he explained, with amplitude of detail, that the man who had come out of the Savoy was of medium height and clean-shaven, with angular features and piercing dark eyes. He was of striking appearance, the kind of man you would be sure to recognise anywhere. The lady with him was smartly dressed and appeared to be about thirty or under. "Seems to me I've known 'im about London for years, although I can't remember as I ever drove 'im," he added. The other man was, Davies said, tall and bearded, and certainly a foreigner, although he could not pretend to fix his nationality.