noon
The most familiar road grows strange ; the miles are longer ; you drive through mystery and silence and the world around you is a formless void . Dawn and a gorgeous sunrise painted out the woods and revealed barren hilltops which Casey did not know . Because he did not know them , he guessed shrewdly that he was on his way to the wilderness of mountains and sand which lies west of Death Valley . Small chance he had of hearing the shop whistles blow in Las Vegas at noon , as he had expected . He was telling himself that he did n't care where he went , when the car , laboring more and more reluctantly up a long , sandy hill , suddenly stopped . In Casey 's heart was a thrill at the sheer luxury of stopping in the middle of the road without having some thick-necked cop stride toward him bawling insults . That he was obliged to stop , and that a hill uptilted before him , and the sand was a foot deep outside the ruts failed to impress him with foreboding .