No one is hurt. That was the first thought which crossed her mind as she stepped to the pavement from the car. Yes, thank God, no one seemed to be hurt; both men had gotten out to inspect the damage and they seemed to be all right. She herself was shaken up and Flick, the poodle, was howling blue murder but both of them were all right. Even the cars didn't seem too badly damaged. Joyce Sherwood gave a pathetic little laugh as her eyes took in the uniforms of the two policemen. Just her luck—running into a couple of cops. And it was her fault, no doubt of that. Well, at least she was insured, which was a help. She moved toward the front of the car where the two men stood silently as they checked to see how bad it was. They'll probably give me a ticket, she thought. And the dealer will knock a few dollars off of what he was going to give me on the turn-in allowance. But it could have been a lot worse—a whole lot worse .... Cribbins swore softly under his breath. "Damn—damn it to hell," he said.
