Any noise meant help. With relief, Jimmy tried to call out.

But with this arrival of help, afterfright claimed him. His mouth
worked silently before a dead-dry throat and his muscles twitched in
uncontrolled nervousness; he made neither sound nor motion. Again he
watched with the unreal feeling of being a remote spectator. A cone of
light from a flashlight darted about and it gradually seeped into Jimmy's
shocked senses that this was a new arrival, picking his way through the
tangle of brush, following the trail of ruin from the broken guard rail
to the smashed car below.

The newcomer paused. The light darted forward to fall upon a crumpled
mass of cloth.

With a toe, the stranger probed at crushed ribs. A pitifully feeble
moan came from the broken rag doll that lay on the ground. The searcher
knelt with his light close to peer into the bloody face, and,
unbelieving, Jimmy Holden heard the voice of his mother straining
to speak, "Paul--I--we--"

The voice died in a gurgle.

The man with the flashlight tested the flaccid neck by bending the head
to one side and back sharply. He ended this inspection by letting the
head fall back to the moist earth. It landed with a thud of finality.

The cold brutality of this stranger's treatment of his mother shocked
Jimmy Holden into frantic outrage. The frozen cry for help changed into
protesting anger; no one should be treated that--

"One!" muttered the stranger flatly.

Jimmy's burst of protest died in his throat and he watched, fascinated,
as the stranger's light moved in a sweep forward to stop a second time.
"And there's number two!" The callous horror was repeated. Hypnotically,
Jimmy Holden watched the stranger test the temples and wrists and try a
hand under his father's heart. He watched the stranger make a detailed
inspection of the long slash that laid open the entire left abdomen and
he saw the red that seeped but did not flow.

"That's that!" said the stranger with an air of finality. "Now--" and he
stood up to swing his flashlight in widening circles, searching the area
carefully.

* * * * *

Jimmy Holden did not sicken. He went cold. He froze as the dancing
flashlight passed over his head, and relaxed partially when it moved
away in a series of little jumps pausing to give a steady light for
close inspection. The light swung around and centered on the smashed
automobile. It was upside down, a ruin with one wheel still tu