"This is Spike Walters—Yellow and White Taxi Company. I'm out at No. 981
East End Avenue. There's a dead man in my cab!"
The weary voice at the other end became suddenly alive.
"A dead man!"
"Yes."
"Who is he?"
"I don't know. That's why I called you."
"When did he die? How?"
Spike controlled himself with an effort.
"Don't you understand? He has been killed—"
"The devil you say!" replied the voice at headquarters, and the little householder chimed in with a frightened squeak.