Mr. Enward did not answer. Instead, he suggested that the lights of the car should be dimmed. They revealed this Thing too plainly. Henry went back and dimmed the lights. It became terribly dark when the lights were lowered, and eyesight played curious tricks: it seemed that the bundle moved. Mr. Enward had a feeling that the grinning face was lifting to leer slyly at him over the humped shoulder. “Put on the lights again, Henry,” the lawyer’s voice quavered. “I can’t see what I am doing.” He was doing nothing; on the other hand, he had a creepy feeling that the Thing was behaving oddly. Yet it lay very still, just as it had lain all the time. “He must have been murdered. I wonder where they went to?” asked Henry hollowly, and a cold shiver vibrated down Mr. Enward’s spine. Murdered! Of course he was murdered. There was blood on the snow, and the murderers were.… He glanced backward nervously and almost screamed. A man stood in the shadowy space behind the car: the light of the lamps reflected by the snow just revealed him. “Who… who are you, please?” croaked the lawyer. He added “please” because there was no sense in being rough with a man who might be a murderer. The figure moved into the light. He was slightly bent and even more middle-aged than Mr. Enward. He wore a flat-topped felt hat, a long ulster and large, shapeless gloves. About his neck was an enormous yellow scarf, and Mr. Enward noticed, in a numb, mechanical way, that his shoes were large and square-toed and that he carried a tightly furled umbrella on his arm though the snow was falling heavily. “I’m afraid my car has broken down a mile up the road.” His voice was gentle and apologetic; obviously he had not seen the bundle. In his agitation Mr. Enward had stepped into the light of the lamps and his black shadow sprawled across the deeper shadow. “Am I wrong in thinking that you are in the same predicament?” asked the newcomer. “I was unprepared for the--er--condition of the road. It is lamentable that one should have overlooked this possibility.” “Did you pass the policeman?” asked Mr. Enward. Whoever this stranger was, whatever might be his character and disposition, it was right and fair that he should know there _was_ a policeman in the vicinity. “Policeman?” The square-hatted man was surprised. “No, I passed no policeman. At my rate of progress it was very difficult to pass anything----” “Going towards you… on horseback… a mounted policeman,” said Mr. Enward rapidly. “He said that he would be back soon. My name is Enward--solicitor--Enward, Caterham and Enward.” He felt it was a moment for confidence. “Delighted!” murmured the other. “We’ve met before. My name--er--is Reeder--R, double E, D, E, R.” Mr. Enward took a step forward. “Not the detective? I thought I’d seen you… look!” He stepped out of the light and the heap on the ground emerged from shadow. The lawyer made a dramatic gesture. Mr. Reeder came forward slowly.