He could imagine, even though he could not see himself, that the Russian was quite right.

He was caked with dirt.

In the fall from the automobile, as he had discovered while he was walking away from the wreck, he had sustained a nasty cut over the eye, which, though it was not painful, had bled a good deal.

And this had made his appearance even worse than it had been before.

His clothes were torn, too.
"Who are you, and where do you come from ?" asked the Russian.
In a few words Fred told his story.