he cab from the blind side, Mrs. Lawrence returns to the waiting room as
the accommodation rolls in, she picks up Warren's suit-case which had
been left there, steps to the curb and summons the cab, in which Warren
is hiding all the time. Sounds all right so far?"

"Perfectly," said Leverage. "Go ahead."

"Walters gets the signal and drives up. Mrs. Lawrence gets in. He drives
away. And then--"

Leverage leaped forward eagerly: "Yes--?? and then?"

"Well," said Carroll slowly, "we don't know what happened in that
taxicab. We believe that Mrs. Lawrence is a decent woman. We know that
Warren would have gone through with the elopement. That being the case,
we can fancy his keen disappointment. Under those circumstances, Eric--a
good many things could have occurred in that taxicab which might have
justified Warren's death at her hands."

Leverage crossed to his desk, from the top drawer of which he took a box
of cigars. He was frowning as he recrossed to Carroll and offered him
one. Then, with almost exasperating deliberation, the head of the police
force clipped the end of his own cigar, held a match to it, replaced the
box in his desk and took up his post before the fire--with his back to
it so that he could watch Carroll's face.

"You really want to believe that story, don't you, David?" he asked
gently.

"Yes."

"And yet you know it is shot all full of holes."

"How?"

"For one thing," said Leverage slowly--"how do you explain the fact that
it was a.32 that killed him. Not that a .32 is any big gun--it isn't--but
it does make a considerable racket."

"The shooting probably took place at the R.L.&T. crossing while the train
was passing. The sound of the shot may have been drowned in the roar of
the train--not entirely smothered of course, but sufficiently blended
with the other noise not to attract the attention of the half-frozen
driver. And, the cab being stopped there, it must have been at that point
that Mrs. Lawrence--panicky over what had occurred--left the taxi."

"You're a dandy little ol' explainer, Carroll. But you've forgotten one
other important item."

"What is it?"

"The address Mrs. Lawrence gave--981 East End avenue. That address was a
stall--we know it was a stall. We were hot on that end of it the night
the body was found. And if those two people were trying to get home,
Carroll--if Warren was already in the cab and Mrs. Lawrence gave the
address--and if she wanted to get away from War