II + 

From the attorney’s office, I went down to the Hall of Justice, and, after hunting around a few minutes, found a policeman who had arrived at the corner of Clay and Kearny Streets a few seconds after Newhouse had been knocked down. + 

“I was just leaving the Hall when I seen a bus scoot around the corner at Clay Street,” this patrolman⁠—a big sandy-haired man named Coffee⁠—told me. “Then I seen people gathering around, so I went up there and found this John Newhouse stretched out. He was already dead. Half a dozen people had seen him hit, and one of ’em had got the license number of the car that done it. We found the car standing empty just around the corner on Montgomery Street, pointing north. They was two fellows in the car when it hit Newhouse, but nobody saw what they looked like. Nobody was in it when we found it.” + 

“In what direction was Newhouse walking?” + 

“North along Kearny Street, and he was about three-quarters across Clay when he was knocked. The car was coming north on Kearny, too, and turned east on Clay. It mightn’t have been all the fault of the fellows in the car⁠—according to them that seen the accident. Newhouse was walking across the street looking at a piece of paper in his hand. I found a piece of foreign money⁠—paper money⁠—in his hand, and I guess that’s what he was looking at. The lieutenant tells me it was Dutch money⁠—a hundred florin note, he says.” + 

“Found out anything about the men in the car?” + 

“Nothing! We lined up everybody we could find in the neighborhood of California and Kearny Streets⁠—where the car was stolen from⁠—and around Clay and Montgomery Streets⁠—where it was left at. But nobody remembered seeing the fellows getting in it or getting out of it. The man that owns the car wasn’t driving it⁠—it was stole all right, I guess. At first I thought maybe they was something shady about the accident. This John Newhouse had a two- or three-day-old black eye on him. But we run that out and found that he had a attack of heart trouble or something a couple days ago, and fell, fetching his eye up against a chair. He’d been home sick for three days⁠—just left his house half an hour or so before the accident.” + 

“Where’d he live?” + 

“On Sacramento Street⁠—way out. I got his address here somewhere.” + 

He turned over the pages of a grimy memoranda book, and I got the dead man’s house number, and the names and addresses of the witnesses to the accident that Coffee had questioned. + 

That exhausted the policeman’s information, so I left him. + 