woman herself, but an ugly wound on the smooth forehead seemed to
indicate that she had been stunned or killed outright before being flung
into the river.

And then, the rope and the staple suggested an outlandish, maniacal
disposal of the victim. Here was no effort at concealment, but rather a
making sure, in most brutal and callous fashion, that early discovery
must be unavoidable.

The bucolic mind works in well-scored grooves. Receiving no assistance
from his master, Bates pulled the body a little farther up on the strip
of gravel so that it lay clear of the water.

"I mum fetch t' polis," he said.

The phrase, with its vivid significance, seemed to galvanize Grant into a
species of comprehension.

"Yes," he agreed, speaking slowly, as though striving to measure the
effect of each word. "Yes, go for the police, Bates. This foul crime must
be inquired into, no matter who suffers. Go now. But first bring a rug
from the stable. You understand? Your wife, or Minnie, must not be told
till later. They must not see. Mrs. Bates is not so well to-day."

"Not so well! Her ate a rare good breakfast for a sick 'un!"

Bates was recovering from the shock, and prepared once more to take an
interest in the minor features of existence. Among these he counted
ability to eat as a sure sign of continued well-being in man or beast.