that sent it was picked up, and squeaked at, and smashed. He gave that
particular matter no thought at all.

He jammed down the accelerator of the car and headed for Boulder
Lake.




CHAPTER 2


The car was ordinary enough; it was one of those scaled-down vehicles
which burn less fuel and offer less comfort than the so-called
standard models. For fuel economy too, its speed had been lowered. But
Lockley sent it up the brand-new highway as fast as it would go.

Now the highway followed a broad valley with a meadow-like floor. Now
it seemed to pick its way between cliffs, and on occasion it ran over
a concrete bridge spanning some swiftly flowing stream. At least once
it went through a cut which might as well have been a tunnel, and the
crackling noise of its motor echoed back from stony walls on either
side.

He did not see another vehicle for a long way. Deer, he saw twice.
Over and over again coveys of small birds rocketed up from beside the
road and dived to cover after he had passed. Once he saw movement out
of the corner of his eye and looked automatically to see what it was,
but saw nothing. Which meant that it was probably a mountain lion,
blending perfectly with its background as it watched the car. At the