He lay down carefully on the ground, fifteen feet uphill from Sally,
where he could look over the ridge. He snuggled the .22 target rifle
professionally to his shoulder. He drew a bead.
Three men very casually strolled out of the brushwood on the shore. They
moved nonchalantly toward the strand of rocks that led out to the picnic
spot. They looked like anybody else from Bootstrap. Casual, rough work
clothing.... Haney bent down and picked up four good throwing stones.
His expression was pained.