"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.
"He with difficulty climbed upon the box beside Reilly and ordered him to drive uptown. Presently the cabman became drowsy again. The next thing he remembers is coming to himself after the overturning of the cab by the cable car. That the man was drugged there can be no doubt. It is probable that while he sat apparently drunk in the barroom, Chatham took the cab to the Knickerbocker bank, expecting to smuggle Arbogast into it without Reilly's knowledge;—a deep move, since it would effectually cover up the trail, if they wanted to make away with the bookkeeper, as they evidently did. Seymour may have met him at the bank by appointment; but I am more inclined to believe that he was there unknown to Chatham, and possibly for the purpose of spying upon the latter, to see that his instructions were carried out. He lent his accomplice a hand in the nick of time; and then, like a prudent general, he retired to a safe position, thence to direct further operations. What I cannot yet understand is, why Chatham should have taken the enormous risk he did in conveying Arbogast's body from the bank, since Seymour's intention was plainly to make away with the bookkeeper in any event. I can explain this only on the supposition that Seymour thought he could conceal the body in some way and prevent it from falling into the hands of the police. On the part of any ordinary criminal this would have been rank folly; but the resources of such a man as Seymour are such that I do not feel disposed to criticize his generalship in this particular without first understanding his ultimate object. From what I have seen of his work thus far, I have derived a profound admiration for the man's genius and cunning deviltry. Fortunately, fate was against him this time. Its instrument was the cable car which overturned the cab, thus delivering Arbogast's body into the hands of the police and furnishing the key without which, it is quite likely, Seymour might have remained forever undiscovered."
"You think, then, that you will succeed in unearthing this villain?" asked Dunlap eagerly.
"While there's life, there's hope," said Sturgis, with grim determination; "but I must confess that the outlook at present is not exactly brilliant. However, let me finish my report. During the excitement that followed the overturning of the cab, Chatham managed to escape, as you know, and he has thus far succeeded in avoiding arrest, although the police have kept a sharp lookout for him. Every steamship that sails, every train that leaves New York, is watched, but thus far without result. For my part, I am convinced that Chatham has not yet attempted to leave the city."
"Isn't it probable, on the contrary, that he fled from New York immediately after running away from the overturned cab?" asked Dunlap.