Every eye was turned in the direction of his outstretched hand. A few drops of a thick dark liquid had oozed from under the door, and was dripping upon the iron step. The cab door was closed and the curtain was drawn down over the sash, the glass of which had been shattered by the fall. One of the policemen tried to open the door. It stuck in the jamb. Then he exerted upon it the whole of his brute strength; and, of a sudden, it yielded. As it flew open, the body of a man lurched from the inside of the cab, and before any one could catch it, tumbled in a heap upon the pavement. A low cry of horror escaped from the crowd. The cabman's passenger was a man past middle age, neatly but plainly dressed. As Doctor Thurston and a policeman bent over the prostrate form, the reporter shot a keen glance in the direction of the cabman, who stood staring at the body with a look of ghastly terror in his bulging eyes. Presently the physician started to his feet with a low exclamation of surprise. "Is he dead, Doctor?" asked the policeman. "He has been dead for some time," replied the physician, impressively; "the body is almost cold." "Been dead for some time?" echoed the policeman. "Yes; this man was shot. See there!" As he spoke, he pointed to a red streak which, starting from the left side of the dead man's coat, extended downward and marked the course of the tiny stream in which the life blood had flowed to a little pool on the floor of the cab. "Shot!" exclaimed the policeman, who turned immediately to one of his brother officers. "Keep your eye on the cabman, Jim. We'll have to take him in. And look out for the other man, quick!" Then, addressing the cabman, upon each of whose shoulders a policeman's hand was immediately placed, he asked roughly: "Who is this man?" The cabman was completely sober now. He stood, pale and trembling, between his two captors, as he replied solemnly: "Before God, I don't know, boss. I never saw him before." The policeman looked at the man in blank amazement for an instant. Then he turned away contemptuously: "All right, young feller," he said, "you don't have to confess to me. But I guess you'll have a chance to tell that story to a judge and jury." Then he proceeded to examine the dead man's pockets. They were empty. "Looks like robbery," he murmured. "What is it, Jim? Haven't you got the other man?" Jim had not found the other man; for the pale young fellow in the sealskin cap had disappeared. The reporter was stooping over the body, while Doctor Thurston cut through the clothing and laid bare a small round wound. "Here is another bullet wound," said Sturgis, turning over the body slightly, and pointing out a second round hole in the back of the dead man.