"Three week," he stated, with satisfaction; "beer, whiskey, everyt'ing. What the hell, work all time goddam job, what the hell?"
V WORKING THE TWENTY-FOUR-HOUR SHIFT
7 A.M. Sunday
I tried to get a lot of sleep last night for handling the long turn; managed about nine hours. When I came to the locker, Stanley was there, dressed, cleaning his smoked glasses.
"How much sleep last night?" I asked.
"Oh, six, seven hour," said Stanley.
"You're a damned fool," I said; "this is the long turn."
"I know, I know," he returned, "I have t'ing to do. No have time sleep."