Evidently, the police hadn’t as yet linked me with the purchase of the secondhand automobile.
I rang up a few more places, handed them my regular line, cut out the article from the Las Vegas paper, left the rest of the newspaper in a telephone booth, and started back for the cabin.
I had to walk nearly a mile before I caught a ride.
Helen returned about an hour after I got back. Louie got the dinner, washed and wiped the dishes. The three of us went to a movie, and then went to bed.
Louie Hazen was pulling me out of bed before I hardly realized I’d been asleep. The air was filled with cold dawn.
“Come on,” he said. “Get this road work in while it’s cool. I don’t want you to sweat.”
I sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbed my eyes. “It’s not cool, it’s cold,” I protested.
“You’ll be all right when you get out.”
He slipped a hand under my arm, lifted me to my feet. My legs all but buckled, the muscles were so sore.
“Gosh, Louie, I can’t take it this morning. I’ll have to rest.”