Farther up the grove a hilarious group of young hikers sang snatches of songs to the uncertain accompaniment of a ukelele.

A hundred feet away on his right, occasional cars went coasting past on the down grade, coming in off the desert, or climbed more slowly with motors working, on their way up from the valley below.
The shifting brilliance from their headlights flicked the grove capriciously as they went by.

Now and then a car stopped.

One, a big, high-powered car with one dazzling spotlight swung into the narrow driveway and entered the grove.
Casey lifted his head like a desert turtle and blinked curiously at the car as it eased past him a few feet and stopped.

A gloved hand went out to the spotlight and turned it slowly, lighting the grove foot by foot and pausing to dwell upon each silent, parked car.