once discerned a small hole in the breast, from which blood was slowly oozing.

Both drew back in dismay.

“He’s been stabbed?” the man who held the match exclaimed in a low, terrified voice. “See, the overcoat must have been opened first, as it isn’t pierced.”

The victim had been wounded in the heart, struck by a steady hand, and evidently with great violence.

They stood aghast at the horrifying discovery.

“What do you think of it, Bill?” asked the old driver timorously.

“Murder, without a doubt.”

“I wonder whether this will give any clue to the murderer?” the elder man said, picking up the handkerchief.

It was a lady’s—a small square of fine cambric with a delicate border of lace.

“Let’s look,” exclaimed his companion, taking it in his hands, and holding it to the lamp.

“Any mark on it?”

“No, nothing,” he replied. “There’s some funny scent on it, though,” he added, placing it nearer his nose.

“Good heavens, Bill, what shall we do?” ejaculated the driver, thoroughly alarmed at the startling discovery.

“Call the police at once. Wait here a minute, and I’ll fetch a constable,” the other replied, getting out of the omnibus, and running to the corner of the Strand, where an officer is constantly stationed on point duty.

Already a small crowd had collected, for the cabmen from the shelter opposite had quickly discerned that something unusual had occurred, and, on learning of the crime, grouped themselves around the vehicle in a state of great excitement, and eager to obtain a glimpse of the corpse.

A minute later the conductor returned with two constables. These were immediately followed by a detective-sergeant, who chanced to be passing, and another constable. The detective himself was astounded, although he had been present on more than one occasion when bodies had been found.

The circumstances having been briefly explained, he despatched one of the men to Agar 

 Prev. P 8/236 next