"Dead?"

"No - yes, I mean."

"Make up your mind which it is to be," he recommended.

"Damn you, leave me alone!" she flashed. "Can't you see I'm upset and don't know what I'm saying?"

His cool glance swept over her. "Since you put it like that; no, I can't. You seem to me remarkably selfpossessed. Come on, out with it! Was the man dead when you found him?"

She did not answer immediately, and it was plain that she was trying to think what was best to say. The fury went out of her face, leaving it cold and rather wary.

"No," she said at last; "I thought he was."

"What made you think he wasn't?"

"He said something," she replied sullenly. "Yes? What did he say?"

"I don't know. I didn't catch it."

"You're a bad liar," he commented. "I suppose it didn't occur to you to render a little first aid?"

"I tried to stop the bleeding." She unclenched her right hand and disclosed a handkerchief saturated with blood. "I saw it was no use. He died almost as soon as I got here."

"And you didn't think well of trying to stop my car to claim assistance?"

She bit her lip, shooting one of her sudden fiery glances at him. "What was the use? You'd only think I'd done it."

"A little cold-blooded, aren't you?" he suggested.

"You can think what you like," she told him. "lt makes difference to me."

"You're mistaken. What I think is likely to make a considerable difference to you. Come here a moment." He grasped her arm above the elbow and drew her towards the smaller car. "Don't stand in the light," he said irritably and once more bent to inspect the quiet form inside. "Did you search his pockets?"

She shuddered. "No."

"Someone did." He reached his hand in at the window and carefully slid it between the dead man's coat and body. "No notecase, no pocketbook." He withdrew his hand and again let the girl go. "Damn!" he said unemotionally and wiped the blood off his lingers.