Clint would have liked to have buried his head in the pillow and gone
back to sleep and slept until–well, say five o’clock that afternoon
Clint would have liked to have buried his head in the pillow and gone
back to sleep and slept until–well, say five o’clock that afternoon.
For by five o’clock the Claflin game would be over with. But even a
five-minute cat-nap was denied him by restless nerves, and, after a
moment or two, he put his legs out and sat up yawning, feeling strangely
tired and listless. His bath helped some, however, and later on he was
surprised to find that as long as he kept his mind off the game he was
able to do full justice to a chop, two soft-boiled eggs, three slices of
toast, a dish of stewed apricots, a baked potato and three glasses of
milk! After that he felt better still!
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