"I tell you, I thought it was burglars at first, and I was going to the drawer in Penton's room and get out his six-shooter."
"Does Penton keep a gun?" I asked.
"Yes ... it's the one he bought to shoot the mongrel dog with."
We ate some cold roast beef sandwiches and drank our coffee.
Hildreth stayed in the big house, not going down the path with me.
I went silently to my tent. It was blowing a little now. The moon was surging along behind little, grey, running clouds. It would rain before daylight. A haunted shiver swept through my back as I stole along the path. I repeated poetry rapidly aloud to crowd out uncanny imaginings. I had a silly, sick impulse to run back to the big house and sleep on the couch in the library.
But I forced myself on. "If you're ever going to be a man, you'd better begin now," I muttered to myself, as if talking to another person.
In my tent ... I lit the lamp. I removed all hanging objects because their lurching shadows sent shivers of apprehension through me....
"That damned coffee—wish I hadn't drunk it."