ard　himself　saying：　〃Jesus；　Al。　We　ran　him　down。　I　felt　it。〃

In　his　ear　the　phone　kept　ringing。　e　on；　Al。　Be　home。　Let　me　get　this　over

with。

Al　had　brought　the　car　to　a　smoking　halt　not　more　than　three　feet　from　a

bridge　stanchion。　Two　of　the　Jag's　tires　were　flat。　They　had　left　zigzagging

loops　of　burned　rubber　for　a　hundred　and　thirty　feet。　They　looked　at　each　other

for　a　moment　and　then　ran　back　in　the　cold　darkness。

The　bike　was　pletely　ruined。　One　wheel　was　gone；　and　looking　back　over　his

shoulder　Al　had　seen　it　lying　in　the　middle　of　the　road；　half　a　dozen　spokes

sticking　up　like　piano　wire。　Al　had　said　hesitantly：　〃I　think　that's　what　we　ran

over；　Tacky…boy。〃

〃Then　where's　the　kid？〃

〃Did　you　see　a　kid？〃

Jack　frowned。　It　had　all　happened　with　such　crazy　speed。　ing　around　the

corner。　The　bike　looming　in　the　Jag's　headlights。　Al　yelling　something。　Then　the

collision　and　the　long　skid。

They　moved　the　bike　to　one　shoulder　of　the　road。　Al　went　back　to　the　Jag　and

put　on　its　four…way　flashers。　For　the　next　two　hours　they　searched　the　sides　of

the　road；　using　a　powerful　four…cell　flashlight。　Nothing。　Although　it　was　late；

several　cars　passed　the　beached　Jaguar　and　the　two　men　with　the　bobbing

flashlight。　None　of　them　stopped。　Jack　thought　later　that　some　queer　providence；

bent　on　giving　them　both　a　last　chance；　had　kept　the　cops　away；　had　kept　any　of

the　passersby　from　calling　them。

At　quarter　past　two　they　returned　to　the　Jag；　sober　but　queasy。　〃If　there　was

nobody　riding　it；　what　was　it　doing　in　the　middle　of　the　road？〃　Al　demanded。　〃It

wasn't　parked　on　the　side；　it　was　right　in　the　fucking　middl