"Beyond help!" cried Brennan. "I'm all right. Get the cops!"

The car door slammed before it took off. Then came the unmistakable
sounds of another man climbing down the ravine. A second flashlight swung
here and there until the newcomer faced Brennan in the little circle of
light.

"What happened?" asked the uninvited volunteer.

Brennan, whatever his thoughts, said in a voice filled with standard
concern: "Blowout. Then everything went blooey."

"Anyone--I mean how many--?"

"Two dead," said Brennan, and then added because he had to, "and a little
boy lost."

The stranger eyed the flames and shuddered. "In there?"

"Parents were tossed out. Boy's missing."

"Bad," said the stranger. "God, what a mess. Know 'em?"

"Holdens. Folks that live in the big old house on the hill. My best
friend and his wife. I was following them home," lied Brennan glibly.
"C'mon let's see if we can find the kid. What about the police?"

"Sent my wife. Telephone down the road."