She was partly right at least. He felt both glad and sad. But in either case, it was the end of the road.
He saw the old man lowering the hood of the Special. He ran back between the pumps carrying a metal tool box. "I've fixed it," he said, breathing heavily. "Now get out of here. Push it to the limit. I broke the cut-off too. Hurry it up!"
"But what's the use?" Stan said. "They'll get us sooner or later—"
"They're not going to get you now, not if you stop reasoning everything out as though it were a problem in calculus! I've cut the remote control off, and the radar and radio. They won't know where you are. I've changed the license plate too. But hurry out of here before Hal or his kid start phoning."
"But being on the Freeway," Stan said, "they'll catch up with us! What's the use—"
"Stan!" Anna said sharply. "Can't you see? We're getting away!"
"I don't want to run away from it," Stan said.