"I've got it, but it's devilish hard to get up. I'm not sure that it isn't too heavy for me."
"That's all right," said Antony. He brought out a ball of thick string from his pocket. "Get this through the handle if you can, and then we can both pull."
"Good man." He paddled to the side, took one end of the string and paddled back again. "Now then."
Two minutes later the bag was safely in the boat. Bill clambered in after it, and Antony rowed back. "Well done, Watson," he said quietly, as they landed. He fetched their two coats, and then waited, the bag in his hand, while Bill dried and dressed himself. As soon as the latter was ready, he took his arm and led him into the copse. He put the bag down and felt in his pockets.
"I shall light a pipe before I open it," he said. "What about you?"
"Yes."
With great care they filled and lit their pipes. Bill's hand was a little unsteady. Antony noticed it and gave him a reassuring smile.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
They sat down, and taking the bag between his knees, Antony pressed the catch and opened it.
"Clothes!" said Bill.
Antony pulled out the top garment and shook it out. It was a wet brown flannel coat.
"Do you recognize it?" he asked.
"Mark's brown flannel suit."
"The one he is advertised as having run away in?"
