“But they didn’t kill you,” said Jill insistently, “and they didn’t kill those three, and there were the two others you say got over the paralysis and went back to the camp.  Counting you, that’s six men they had at their mercy that we know weren’t harmed.  So why should they have harmed a seventh man?”

Lockley did not answer at once.  None of the spared six, he thought, had put up a fight.  Only Vale had exchanged blows with the crew of the spaceship.  Nobody else had seen them.

“That’s right, about Vale,” he said after a moment in which he had been busy.  “But this doesn’t look good!”

He felt under the car.  He squeezed himself beneath its front end.  There was a small, fugitive flicker of flame.  It went out and he was silent.

Presently he got to his feet and said evenly, “We’re in a fix.  One of the front wheels is turned almost at a right angle to the other.  A king pin is broken.  The car couldn’t be driven even if I managed to get it up on the road.  We’ve got to walk.  There ought to be soldiers on the way up to the lake today.  If we meet them we’ll be all right.  But this is bad luck!”

It happened that he was mistaken on both counts.  There were no soldiers moving into the park, and it was not bad luck that his car couldn’t be driven.  If he’d been able to get it on the road and trundling down the highway, the car would have been wrecked and they could very well have been killed.  But this was for the future to disclose.

They took nothing from the car because they could not see beyond the present.  They started out doggedly to follow the highway that soldiers would be likely to follow on the way to the lake.  It was not the shortest way to the world outside the Park.  It was considerably longer than a footpath would have been.  But Lockley expected tanks, at least, against which eccentric unearthly weapons would be useless.  So they headed down the main highway.  Lockley was unarmed.  They had no food.  He hadn’t eaten since the morning before.

When day came—­gray and still—­and presently the dew upon grass and tree leaves glittered reflections of the sky, he moved aside into the woods and found a broken-off branch, out of which by very great effort he made a club.  When he came back, Jill was listening attentively to the little pocket radio.  She turned it off.

“I was hoping for news,” she explained determinedly.  “The government knows that there are creatures in the spaceship, and he—­” that would be Vale “—­will be trying to make them understand what kind of beings we are.  So there could be friendly communication almost any time.  But there aren’t any news broadcasts on the air.  I suppose it’s too early.”

He agreed, with reservations.  They made their way along the dew-wetted surface of the highway.  As the light grew stronger, Lockley glanced again and again at Jill’s face.  She looked very tired.  He reflected sadly that she was thinking of Vale.  She’d never thought twice about Lockley.  Even now, or especially now, all her thoughts were for Vale.