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White, Stewart Edward, 1873-1946

"The Rules of the Game"

Then he
roused himself with a start; for, although his tongue had continued
saying what his brain had commanded it to say, the dynamics had gone
from his utterance, and the old man was stirring restlessly as though
about to bring the conference to a close. Warned by this incident, he
forced his whole powers to the front. His head was getting tired, but he
must continuously bring to bear against this dead opposition all the
forces of his will.
At last, with many hesitations, the old man signed. The other two men,
rubbing their eyes sleepily, put down their names as witnesses, and,
shivering in the night chill, crawled back to rest, without any very
clear idea of what they had been called on to do. Bob leaned back in his
chair, the precious document clasped tight. The taut cords of his being
had relaxed. For a moment he rested. To his consciousness dully
penetrated the sound of a rooster crowing.
"Don't see how you keep chickens," he found himself saying; "we can't.
Coyotes and cats get 'em. I wish you'd tell me."
Opposite him sat old Samuels, his head forward, motionless as a graven
image.


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