Stuart realized that the old man had mistaken him for someone else. But there was no time to waste in giving his identity.
"I have had an accident," he said quickly. "My car was wrecked, coming over the bridge.
The whole bridge collapsed."
"You should have been careful," responded the old man, shaking his head in a solemn manner. "I told you to come over that bridge very slowly. You said you would remember. Very slowly." The old man's words brought a sudden understanding. Stuart's belief that the bridge had been weakened came back, now, with startling force. With it came the thought that someone else had been expected to cross it.
The old man had been expecting someone. He had warned that person to cross the bridge slowly. Suppose that advice had been followed! The person heeding it would be in the river, now, buried in a submerged automobile!
There was only one answer. The old man was a party to the crime!
Stuart was in a quandary. The old man must suppose him to he intended victim — one who had an appointment at this place.
Stuart was on the point of blurting out that a mistake was evident; then he checked himself. He could reveal his right name at any time. It might be better wait. He sat down wearily upon an old chair. Then he realized another danger. Jefferson had been murdered, perhaps by the old man's design. Stuart knew that he must feign ignorance of the hitchhiker's death. The old man gave him the opportunity unwittingly.
"You have been hurt," he said, in a kindly tone. "You must rest. My man will be here shortly" — Stuart shuddered at these words, as he thought of the monster in the storm — "and he can look to your car. You have the papers?"
"There's another man in the car," responded Stuart, anxious to avoid answering the question. "I think he is hurt, badly. I am worrying about him. We ought to help him."