and stopped on the shoulder close to Lockley's car. The driver shouted
above the din of passing motors, "You don't want to go up there.
Everybody's ordered out. Everybody get away from Boulder Lake! When
you get the chance, turn around and get the hell away."

He watched for a chance to get back on the road, having delivered his
warning. Lockley got out of his car and went over, "You're talking
about the thing that came down from the sky," he said grimly. "There
was a girl up at the camp. Jill Holmes. Writing a piece about building
a national park. Getting information about the job. Did anybody get
her away?"

The man who'd warned him continued to watch for a reasonable gap in
the flood of racing cars. They weren't crowded now as they had been,
but it was still impossible to start in low and get back in the
stream of vehicles without an almost certain crash. Then he turned his
head back, staring at Lockley.

"Hell! Somebody told me to check on her. I was routing men out and
loading 'em on whatever came by. I forgot!"

A man in the back of the sedan said, "She hadn't left when we did. I
saw her. But I thought she had a ride all set."

The man at the wheel said furiously, "She hasn't passed us! Unless
she's in one of these...."

Lockley set his teeth. He watched each oncoming car intently. A girl
among these fugitives would have been put with the driver in the cab
of a truck, and he'd have seen a woman in any of the private cars.