The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-03-25
CHAPTER 6-(Continued)

highest point of the cliff, a rocky
 headland which ran out from the hill top on the other side of the cutting, form ing a landmark we'll known to the fishermen of the district.
 The headland which was not more than a hundred yards across at the base, juttcd sharply out into the sea. Immediately be- yond it, on the Staveley side, the road ran along tn. edge of the cliffs for several hun dred yards with light raj fence On the outside some protection for traffic from the danger of going over the side to the rocks below. Where the grassy margin of the headland narrowed to this dangerous pass, an ancient and faded notice board on a pos. which had departed from it's per- pendieul.- position warned drivers that the next portion of the road was dangerous, and similar board was affixed to the other end of the protecting fence.
 Marsland stopped opposite the point where the first notice board confronted them from the narrowing margin of head land.
 Ut was somewhere about here that my horse took fright last night, I think" he said, examining the green bank on the side of the road farthest from the cliff. "Yes, here $ where he slipped"
 Crewe examined the deep ndentation of hoofmarks with interest.
 "It's lucky for you your horse shied n tlat direction" he said. of he had sprung the other way you might have gone ove- the cliffs, in spite of the fence. Look herew
 Marsland followed him to the edge of the cliff and glanced over. The tide was out and the cliffside fell almost perpendcu- lary to the jagged rocks nearly 300 feet below.
 They'd be covered at high tide,' said Crewe, pointing downward to the rocks. "But even if one fell over at high tide there would not be much chance of escape. The breakers must come in with terrific force on this rocky coast''
 "It's horribly dangerous piece of road, especially at nighttime said Marsland. ''I suppose there was some bad accident here at one time or another, which com pelled the local authorities to put up that fence and the warning notices. Even now, it's far from safe. Somebody's had mar Tow escape from going over; look at that notice board leaning down on one side. Some passing motor car has gone too close to the edge of the road-probably in the dark-and bumped it half over.'
 q noticed it," said Crewe. "I agree with you; this piece of road is highly dangerous. There will be a shocking accident here some day unless the local authorities close this portion of the road and make a de- tour to that point lower down where those sheep are grazing. But local authorities never act wisely until they have had an ac- cident. Still, suppose the people of the caxntryside are go we'll used to this cliff road that they never think of the danger. Apparently it's the only road between Ash lingsea and Staveley."
 Crewe slowly filled his large pipe and lit it. He smoked thoughtfully, gazing round at the scene. The high headland on which they stood commanded an uninter- rupted view of downs, sea and coast. It was a clear day and the distant city C Staveley, with it's towering spires, was sil- houetted against the sky like an etching in gray. To the left the fishing village of Ashlingsea nestled on the sands, it's stone gray houses gleaming in silver setting the sails of it's fishing fleet flecked white on the sunlit blue ( the sea.
 On the Ashlingsea side the cliffs fell away quickly, and sloped down to a level beach less than mile from the headland. About 800 yards from the headland the cliff front was less percipitous and foot path showed faint trail on it's face run- ming down to little stone landing place, where fisherman could be seen mooring a boat. Crewe pointed out the path to