At times he turned the swiveled searchlight upon a road-sign and evoked a glistening play of silver on the trees.

Once, cursing, he changed a tire; once the car skidded dangerously in a circle but to Frank his air of confidence was hypnotically convincing.
The final stretch of the journey became a dim and frosty blur of sleety trees.
At Finlake they began to climb.

It was after three when the headlights blazed upon the quarry.
"I wired the doctor to wait," said Kenny.

"He knows you're with me." "We leave the car here ?" "We'll have to." He turned his searchlight on the cliff ahead.
"There's a path yonder." "And which shack, I wonder ?" "There's a light in only one." Frank worked his stiffened face to relieve the feeling of cold contorted rubber and followed Kenny up the path.

Light glimmered dimly through the jungle of frost upon the shack window.