Chapter 18
A PALE DAWN was graying the east when at last he awoke to groggy, nauseating consciousness. His first thought was for the brief case, and he put out his hands, numbly feeling for it. The brief case was gone. It was gone as completely as though it had never been.
He lay there for a little while, flat on his belly, physically sick; too sick to consider the problem of what he should do next. After a long time he put up a shaking hand, exploring the damage. He was surprised to find that there weren’t a lot of jagged pieces of bone sticking out. He pushed himself partially erect and leaned against the tree, pressing flattened muddy hands tightly to his temples. Down the hillside, still parked at the curbing of the boulevard, sat the rented car. The overcoat and hat, which he had so
