OCR Text |
Show 121. When Weasel xrasn't up for lunch, Bill xrent in. "What's xrrong Weasel?" "Got a sore throat and just don't feel like moving." "Could you drink some of Little Bill's broth?" Weasel nodded. Again the long wait started until the storm blew itself out, but noxr there was a sick man in the shack. When Weasel said he xras chilling, Bill helped him move his bunk in by the stove, and the smell of illness and his hacking cough filled the room. Weasel sullenly accepted the quinine and food Bill brought him, but he shoxred his displeasure at a thousand little things every day. His bunk IRS in the center of the room, and Bill tried to keep the baby quiet so he could sleep. The second night they kept the fire going all night, and Sunny came in and took over about four in the morning. They kept cool cloths on Weasel's arms and forehead for he res hot xrith fever. Olaf ignored Weasel. He still had some liquor and he xrould start to drink as it got dusk. At first his mood would lighten, but before/git the evening meal on, Olaf xrould.be as clos to meanness as he ever got. Bill took to lying doxm xrith Little Bill xrhen he got his work finished, late in the afternoon. In the lull of the howlinr of the xrind he could hear the slap, slap, slap of |