Lockley did not answer. He thought of Jill, waiting anxiously at the
edge of the woods not far from the camp. She'd surely have watched him
climbing. She might have followed his climb all the way to where he
went around to Vale's post. But she wouldn't have seen his capture and
she might be waiting for him now. It wasn't likely, though, that she'd
climb into the trap that had taken Vale and then himself. She must
realize that that spot was one to be avoided.

She'd probably try to make her way to his ditched car. She'd heard him
ask on short wave for a helicopter to come to that place to pick her
up. It hadn't been promised; in fact it had been refused. But if she
remained missing, surely someone would risk a low-level flight to find
out if she were waiting desperately for rescue. A light plane could
land on the highway if a helicopter wasn't to be risked. Somehow Jill
must find a way to safety. She was in danger because she'd waited
loyally for Vale to come to her at the camp. Now....

Time passed. Hot sunshine on their prison heated the metal. It became
unbearably hot inside. There came squeakings. The cover of the compost
pit shell lifted. Half a dozen wild birds were thrust into the
opening. The cover closed again. Lockley listened closely. It was
latched from the outside. There would naturally be a fastening on the
cover of a compost pit to keep bears from getting at the garbage it
was built to contain.

The heat grew savage. Thirst was a problem. Once and only once they
heard a noise from the world beyond their prison. It was a droning hum
which, even through a metal wall, could be nothing but the sound of a
helicopter. It droned and droned, very gradually becoming louder.
Then, abruptly, it cut off. That was all. And that was all that the