“Now,” Mr. Fairchild yawned, “I’m going to sleep.”
Gus muttered, “I think I’m sorry I ever got into this. I was a spaceman once, and a pretty good one, too. The life of the race they called me and my kind. But look at me now. Just look at me.”
“You’re being melodramatic,” Mr. Fairchild told him. “I’m sure you’ll get over it in the morning. Anyway, Gus, you and I can get some sleep, but I want Sam and Clarence to keep an eye on these two. Suppose you take them into the storeroom and watch them there.”
“Well,” Sam growled, “I’m kind of sleepy.”
“You’ll get a chance to sleep later. Take them inside.”
Still growling, Sam led Pete and the Indian back to the storeroom. Wordlessly, Clarence followed them.
An hour fled. Two. It was not particularly warm, but Pete began to sweat. If they didn
