Who cared?
He might have shouted his mission to the heavens.

Lane passed on.

All he caught from the second car was a faint fragrance of smoke, wafted on the gentle summer breeze.
Another black object loomed up--a larger car--the sedan Lane recognized.

He did not bolt or hurry.

His footsteps made no sound.
Crouching a little he slipped round the car to one side.