Harry said one word as he led it up, "Doctor Morton!" and with a horror-struck face pointed to a dark wet stain partly on the saddle, partly on the horse's neck.
George darted round the thicket, and in a moment a cry called Harry to the same place.

A bridle path, more direct than the road, ran close beside the thorn bushes, and there, half hidden in branches and leaves, lay something--something that had once been human and living.

Dark pools of blood lay about it, and there were horrible gashes and wounds as if the murderer had been unable to satisfy his rage, and had taken a frantic pleasure in mutilating his victim.
The two young men stood and looked at each other and at the ghastly heap before them.

Silently with white faces they questioned each other what to do?
To touch what lay there seemed almost impossible, and any thought of succour was hopeless; but something must be done.

They both drew away from the spot before they spoke.