My thoughts ran in a curious circle as Huntoon Rogers and I walked with the ranger along the hard driveway toward the entrance to the inn. The body of the murdered man had been found only to be stolen as it was being taken through Death Valley; the dead man’s clothing had been recovered at the expense of a day-long trip to Pahrump Valley, and now they had as promptly disappeared.
There was an appallingly sinister aspect to these two happenings; the impact of it was terrific. The conclusion was inescapable that the murderer was all-seeing in his watchfulness of our activities. Not only was he present among us but he seemed to know our every move, almost to anticipate them; moreover, he was ruthless in his purpose to blot out all trace of his victim’s identity. Something might have come of
