Stone against bark made a distinct sound, but he was still uneasy. Andrew scooped up a handful of dirt and gravel. He used his toes to smooth out the hole it had left in the path. Then his long purposeful strides brought him to the iron gate. He elbowed it open. It swung easily on oiled hinges to the edge of the driveway. Did he actually want to go out? Two fist fulls of gravel suggested he did not. The box in his pocket still held two matches, enough to cover up any 'incidents' on the way to town. So he continued on.