spectators. The 'fun' was about to begin. James Buckland, a porter at
Fenchurch Street railway station, had just sworn to tell all the truth,
etc. After all, it did not amount to much. He said that at six o'clock
in the afternoon of December the 10th, in the midst of one of the
densest fogs he ever remembers, the 5.5 from Tilbury steamed into the
station, being just about an hour late. He was on the arrival platform,
and was hailed by a passenger in a first-class carriage. He could see
very little of him beyond an enormous black fur coat and a travelling
cap of fur also.

"The passenger had a quantity of luggage, all marked F.S., and he
directed James Buckland to place it all upon a four-wheel cab, with the
exception of a small hand-bag, which he carried himself. Having seen
that all his luggage was safely bestowed, the stranger in the fur coat
paid the porter, and, telling the cabman to wait until he returned, he
walked away in the direction of the waiting-rooms, still carrying his
small hand-bag.

"'I stayed for a bit,' added James Buckland, 'talking to the driver
about the fog and that; then I went about my business, seein' that the
local from Southend 'ad been signalled.'

"The prosecution insisted most strongly upon the hour when the stranger
in the fur coat, having seen to his luggage, walked away towards the
waiting-rooms. The porter was emphatic. 'It was not a minute later than
6.15,' he averred.

"Sir Arthur Inglewood still had no questions to ask, and the driver of
the cab was called.