"Almost there?" It was a girl's voice, sleepy and disinterested.
"Almost," Earl Robinson said, and twisted the wheel again. The car went crosswise with the road. It slid forward, up the hill, careened wildly and straightened its course once more. Robinson sighed.
"Close," he said.
"Earl, for God's sake, stop!!"
Roy Starr's voice welled out of him, filled with stark horror. Robinson saw the weird, shadowy form on the road just in time. He pressed hard on the brake and the car jerked into the ditch, and stopped with a sickening jolt.
The girl in the rear seat clawed her way forward, clutching Starr's shoulder.
"A man on the road," she cried. "Earl, you hit him."
She started sobbing as though her heart were breaking.
"Shut up," Robinson snapped. His nerves had reached the breaking point. Then, in a gentler voice. "There's a man there all right, Marge. I didn't hit him. Get hold of yourself. Glenn, Glenn, take care of her, will you?"