"So you did remember the concert?"
"How could I forget it? You'd bullied me and threatened me.
"All right, go on and tell the rest of it."
He went on and told her, with only a few interruptions.
"Why didn't you come back to Lone Pine last night?" she asked when he was finished. "You knew about this place where you could wade the river."
"Not then," he said. "Not until later. Not until this morning. I was lost last night—all night. When the thing threw me out, I lost all sense of direction and it was dark. I couldn't even find that thing you call the visitor. So I found what seemed to be a path. The only way I could follow it was on my hands and knees. When I tried to walk, I kept blundering into trees. Crawling, I could feel the path with my hands. I followed the path because I thought it might lead me somewhere. But it didn't; it finally petered out. ‘When that happened, I knew I had to wait for morning. So I crawled under a small conifer. Its branches hung down to the ground and sheltered me from the wind. But, even so, it was cold. I had no matches to start a fire.
"And you stayed until it was light?"
"That's right. Then I heard trees falling and that growling sound the visitor makes when it chews them up. I didn't know, of course, that it was the visitor doing it. I didn't know what was going on. This is a primitive wilderness area and no one is supposed to be chopping down trees. But I didn't think about that at the time. I only knew there'd be someone who could tell me how to get to Lone Pine.~~
"Then you saw the troopers at the bridge and got scared off?"
"Exactly. So I scouted down the river and found this place where I could cross. Then I heard people on this side of the river and went back to have a look. That's when I spotted you."
"I still don't entirely understand," she said, "why you don't want anyone to know you were inside the visitor."
"Don't you see? I haven't a shred of proof to back up my story. I'd just be another jerk trying to capitalize on a flying saucer landing. The country must be all stirred up by now."
"It is," said Kathy. "Washington, perhaps, the worst of all. I told you about the FBI who are here. A team of scientific observers got in this afternoon."
"If anyone suspected I had been inside that thing," said Jerry, "they'd snatch me up and question me. I could tell them with a good conscience, of course, but I couldn't prove my story. I'd feel like a fool and they probably wouldn't believe me and sooner or later, I would get into the news and half the people would think I was lying and what is worse, the other half would believe me
"Yes, I see your point," said Kathy.
"What I have to tell wouldn't help much," he said, "but once they got me, they wouldn't let loose. They'd keep on pestering me and questioning me, trying to trap me in lies. Like as not they'd drag me off to Washington and I have my thesis that I am working on
"Yes, you're right," said Kathy. "I don't know. I think just possibly you made the right decision."
"You mean, then, that you're not going to argue about making a story out of me."
"I don't think I would dare to," she said. "It would sound like sheer hogwash, pure sensationalism. No evidence at all to document the story. Just your unsupported word for it. I can imagine what Al Lathrop would say."
"Who is Lathrop?"
"Our managing editor. He's a bear for documentation. Such a story would never get past him. Probably it wouldn't even get by Johnny. Johnny would be drooling over it, but he'd know that Lathrop.
"That eases my mind," said Jerry. "I thought maybe I'd have to fight you off."
"It's a damn shame," said Kathy. "It would make a nice story.
God, what a story it would make! It would go out over the wires.
Every paper would publish it. Millions of people would read it.
You'd be an instant hero
"Or an instant bum."
"That, too," she said.
She settled back into the crook of his arm. It was nice here, she told herself. The sun, halfway down the western sky, was warm; there was not a cloud in sight. In front of them, the shallow water gurgled as it chattered along its rocky bed. Across the river, an aspen grove shouted the goldness of its autumn leaves against the somber greenery of the pines.
"You realize, of course," she said, "that eventually they will catch up with you. As soon as they unscramble that car enough to get at a license plate. Or when they have the engine number."
"Yes, I know," he said. "I need some time before they do. I have to think about it more. Get my feet under me. Know what I have to do. Maybe by that time the question of who the car belongs to won't seem important."
"Even when they know you are the one," said Kathy, "there's no reason to mention that you were ever inside the visitor. They'll never ask. No one would suspect that it possibly could happen. All you have to do is let the incident blow over to some extent. I would imagine that as time goes on, the visitor may give them a lot more to think about. Within the next few days, you should file an insurance claim on the car. By that time, well probably know who hauled it off and why."
"That can wait. I have one problem, though. I should be getting back to the university."
"Chet will be driving into Bemidji in another hour or so with some rolls of film to put on a plane to Minneapolis. One of the kids who hang around the gas station walked out this morning and brought in the car for Chet. It had been stranded in the traffic jam when the troopers closed roads into Lone Pine and has been sitting there ever since. You can ride with Chet to Bemidji and take the plane from there."
"Kathy, I haven't the price of a plane ticket on me."
"That's all right. I have. I picked up a wad of expense money before I left the Tribune."
"I'll pay you back later on. You may have to wait."
"No need. I can work it into my expense account somehow. If not all this trip, the rest of it on the next."
"I hate to leave," he said. "It's so peaceful up here. Once I get back, I'll sit hunched over waiting for the phone to ring or for someone to tap me on the shoulder."