Drop off when I make the turn.

You 'll pick up another ride soon.

Plenty of chances." "Thanks for the lift." "Aw, forget it." The truck wheeled from the main road and chugged away, leaving Fairchild afoot, making as much progress as possible toward his goal until good fortune should bring a swifter means of locomotion.

A half-mile he walked, studying the constant changes of the scenery before him, the slopes and rises, the smooth valleys and jagged crags above, the clouds as they drifted low upon the higher peaks, shielding them from view for a moment, then disappearing.

Then suddenly he wheeled.