Arnold glanced at his watch—two minutes to eight. He lifted his head and could see movement of some kind at the far end of the narrow road. Just a blot of shadow at first, moving through the growing twilight, becoming larger as the seconds ticked away. The blur expanded into a shape and was just nearing the highway when it resolved itself into a long, narrow, upright figure. It continued across the road, and by the time it was half way across, a head could be seen resting upon a neck attached to a torso and long legs.
It was Vince, all right. Arnold could tell by the time the figure had crossed the road. He sighed. Some sort of action was going to take place this night, one not to look forward to, but also one he would not attempt to evade. If it was, indeed, God’s will, then he would do
