"G'arn, 'Arry, it ain't no laughing matter."
"Well, it's a bold stroke, at any rate," rejoined the man addressed. "Why, he couldn't have been seated in the 'bus a minute before he was killed."
"Is it such a mysterious affair, then?" asked the young man who had alighted from the cab, turning to them.
"Mysterious? I should rather think it was. It all happened between the corner of Pall Mall and here. The victim must have entered the 'bus as it was going along, but whether the murderer was inside or whether he followed, nobody knows."
"Pass along, please; pass along!" two constables commanded.
The body, which had by this time been placed on the ambulance and lightly covered, was being wheeled away, and the police were busy dispersing the ever-increasing crowd.
"By Jove, it's terrible! Such sights are enough to give one the blues," the young man exclaimed aloud, as he made his way towards his cab. "I wonder who the Johnnie is? The face seems familiar, yet for the life of me I can't recollect where I've seen it before. But, there, it isn't any use making oneself glum over the troubles of others, and, goodness knows, my own cursed luck is hard enough."
He sighed, and, springing into the hansom, shouted—
"Drive on, cabby, as fast as you can make that bag of bones travel."
The man laughed at his fare's humorous cynicism, and, whipping his horse, drove rapidly away.
