Something unusual, something curiously noticeable–yet he could not exactly tell what–made Bryce go closer to the sleeping man. There was a strange stillness about him–a rigidity which seemed to suggest something more than sleep. And suddenly, with a stifled exclamation, he bent forward and lifted one of the folded hands. It dropped like a leaden weight when Bryce released it, and he pushed back the man’s face and looked searchingly into it.