"The cab-stand."
"The cab-stand! And what has that to do with the murder?"
"Bob! Bob! You can write about eyes and their diseases, but you cannot make use of your own optics. It is probable that the murderer of Moxton, this Zirknitz, wished to get away as speedily as possible from the scene of his crime, so it is equally probable that he made for the cab-stand."
"Or the railway station."
"That is much further away. The cab-stand is comparatively near the Jubilee Road."
"But no cabman came forward at the inquest."
"I daresay. No cabman had any right to suspect his fare of murder. But we will question those on the rank before we go to Soho. Let us find out if Mr. Zirknitz took a cab between a quarter-past and half-past eleven."
Ellis shrugged his shoulders. "As you please. But it seems to me futile to waste time in asking questions which cannot be answered."
"We have yet to learn if our time is being wasted," retorted Cass, and ending the conversation for the time being, the young men left the house.
By this time Cass had become quite eager to solve the mystery, and willingly placed his quick wit and indomitable perseverance at the service of his friend. He admired Ellis greatly, and there was quite a David and Jonathan feeling between the two. It annoyed Cass to think that the doctor might throw away his life on such a woman as he believed Mrs. Moxton to be; and he undertook the case in the hope of proving her unworthiness. At the present moment appearances were decidedly against her, yet in the face of such black evidence Ellis still clung to his belief in her. This instinctive feeling, based on no reasonable foundation, was so insisted upon by Ellis that his friend became quite angry.