"Let me tell you exactly what I have done up to the present time; and then you will be able to judge for yourself. And I, too, shall see more clearly where we stand; for the necessity of putting one's thoughts into words is an aid to clear thinking." CHAPTER XIII. THE LOST TRAIL. So saying, Sturgis settled himself in his chair and began his narrative. "After leaving you this morning, my first step was to gain admission to the Tombs----" "To the Tombs?" interrupted Dunlap. "Yes; the cabman has been remanded to the Tombs to await trial for complicity in the murder of the unknown man whose body was found in his cab." "Arbogast's?" "Yes, Arbogast's. But of course the police do not yet know that." "Were you allowed to see the cabman?" "Yes. As reporter of _The Tempest_, I was able to obtain an interview with him. When first arrested, the man, whose name, by the way, is Reilly, was incapable of making a connected statement; the lawyer assigned to defend him laughed in his face when he heard his story, and advised him to leave the romancing to a trained lawyer as his only chance of escaping the electric chair. Naturally, under the circumstances, the poor fellow hesitated to unbosom himself to a stranger. But I finally managed to gain his confidence by showing him that I believed his story, and that I was trying to find the men whose scapegoat he now is. It seems that yesterday afternoon, at about three o'clock, he was stationed at the cab-stand in front of Madison Square, when he was accosted by a man, answering Chatham's description, who engaged him to drive him to the Fulton Street ferry. On reaching the ferry, the man ordered Reilly to proceed to a low grogshop on South Street. Here he entered, returning in a few minutes to invite the cabman to take a drink with him. The men seated themselves at a table upon which a bottle and two filled glasses were already placed. Chatham handed one of these glasses to Reilly, who drank it and probably many more. At all events, he remembers nothing further until he was rudely shaken by Chatham, who led him out into the street. Here the cold air revived him, and he remembers noticing several things to which he did not pay much attention at the time, but which seem significant now as he recalls them: "Firstly,--It was now quite dark. "Secondly,--The cab, which had been facing south when he entered the barroom, was now facing north. "Thirdly,--Chatham persistently carried his left hand in the bosom of his coat; he was very pale and seemed weak and ill.