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.

* * * * *