" With a sharp blow he shattered it.
"Now we could be as hard to trail as that Wild Life truck was the
other night."
Jill groped as the car got into motion again.
"You mean it was--Oh!"
"Most likely," agreed Lockley, "it was the thing that went out of the
park and occupied Maplewood, flinging terror beams in all directions.
Some of the truck's crew would have had footgear to make hoofprints.
They committed a token burglary or two. And there was the illusion of
aliens studying these queer creatures, men."
They went on at not more than fifteen miles an hour. The car was
almost soundless. They heard insects singing in the night. There was a
steady, monotonous rumbling high above where Air Force planes
patrolled outside the Park. After a time Jill said, "You seemed
discouraged when you talked to that general."
"I was," said Lockley. "I am. He played it safe, refused to admit that
anybody in authority over him could possibly be mistaken. That's sound
policy, and I was contradicting the official opinion of his superiors.
I've got to find somebody of much lower rank, or much higher.
Maybe--"
Jill said in a strained voice, "Stop!"
He braked.
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