"I don't want to pile us up," said Guido, "but I guess I could average fifty. Where is she?" "Do you know Point Perro?" "I don't believe so." "It's a little privately owned cove. Not far to go now. It's fenced off, posted, and there's nothing from the road to indicate it even has a beach. You couldn't find a lonelier spot in a day's driving." Cloven air bawled past the windows. Guido squinted into thickening fog. He could only see a few yards ahead before the gray curtain fell; he had to imagine when the turns were coming up, and take them on two wheels. All at once Kintyre was terrified of an accident. "I mentioned it to Clayton a couple of days ago," he said. The words came out one by one. "I seem to have forgotten that--down underneath, perhaps, I didn't want to admit to myself I'd given him any help--but I don't think it was coincidence I chose this route. Never mind. Clayton is an Easterner. His time out here has been spent entirely in the respectable sections of the Bay Area. Silenio and Larkin are complete strangers. How would they know where to take her, except some such randomly learned-about spot as this? At least, it's one chance for us. One chance!" Guido said above the wind, the engine, and the wheels: "If you're right, Doc, it's even a good chance. An Easterner would drive a lot slower than me along this route, especially when they hit the fog. We might catch up to them." "They've had hours," said Kintyre. "On the other hand, they had to meet each other too, and confer. They're not supermen, they would try to think of something, and argue about their plans, for a long time while they just drove aimlessly, surely not in this direction. We can hope." "If they've done anything to her," said Guido, his face the mask of flayed Marsyas, "I myself will--" "You'll let me off at Point Perro," said Kintyre. "Then burn up the motor getting to a phone. Don't waste time on any sheriff's office, call Berkeley headquarters direct. They can call the local authorities for you. It should actually be quicker that way." "You, though," said Guido. "I can't leave you alone with them." "Do you want to help Corinna, or do you want to get yourself sliced open for no purpose at all? You're a better driver, so you can get help sooner. I'll have a better chance of delaying matters down in the cove." "I suppose so." Guido spoke it with difficulty. "'_One must therefore be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten wolves_,'" recited Kintyre in Machiavelli's Italian. "'_Those that wish to be only lions do not understand this._'" Guido laughed shakily. "Modest fellow," he said. Kintyre would have liked to clap his shoulder, but dared not. They were going seventy miles an hour on a winding road and it was becoming less visible each minute. "Good for you," he said. "We'll salvage you yet." After another mile: "Or do you even need it any more?" 20