"'What street, sir?' asked Royston.

"'Grey Street, I fancy,' said the other, 'but my friend will direct you
when you get to the Junction.' "'Ain't he too much on, sir?' said
Royston, dubiously.

"'Oh, no! I think he'll be able to tell you where he lives--it's Grey
Street or Ackland Street, I fancy. I don't know which.'

"He then opened the door of the cab and looked in. 'Good night, old
man,' he said--the other apparently did not answer, for the gentleman
in the light coat, shrugging his shoulders, and muttering 'sulky
brute,' closed the door again. He then gave Royston half-a-sovereign,
lit a cigarette, and after making a few remarks about the beauty
of the night, walked off quickly in the direction of Melbourne. Royston
drove down to the Junction, and having stopped there, according to his
instructions he asked his 'fare' several times where he was to drive
him to. Receiving no response and thinking that the deceased was too
drunk to answer, he got down from his seat, opened the door of the cab,
and found the deceased lying back in the corner with a handkerchief
across his mouth. He put out his hand with the intention of rousing
him, thinking that he had gone to sleep. But on touching him the
deceased fell forward, and on examination, to his horror, he found that
he was quite dead. Alarmed at what had taken place, and suspecting the
gentleman in the light coat, he drove to the police station at St.
Kilda, and there made the above report. The body of the deceased was
taken out of the cab and brought into the station, a doctor being sent
for at once. On his arrival, however, he found that life was quite
extinct, and also discovered that the handkerchief which was tied
lightly over the mouth was saturated with chloroform. He had no