lse chased Danny in his dreams。 Something worse。
The bitter lock of his emotions was broken。 He got out of bed and went across
to the boy； feeling sick and ashamed of himself。 It was Danny he had to think
of； not Wendy； not himself。 Only Danny。 And no matter what shape he wrestled the
facts into； he knew in his heart that Danny must be taken out。 He straightened
the boy's blankets and added the quilt from the foot of the bed。 Danny had
quieted again now。 Jack touched the sleeping forehead
（what monsters capering just behind that ridge of bone？）
and found it warm； but not overly so。 And he was sleeping peacefully again。
Queer。
He got back into bed and tried to sleep。 It eluded him。
It was so unfair that things should turn out this way — bad luck seemed to
stalk them。 They hadn't been able to shake it by ing up here after all。 By
the time they arrived in Sidewinder tomorrow afternoon； the golden opportunity
would have evaporated — gone the way of the blue suede shoe； as an old roommate
of his had been wont to say。 Consider the difference if they didn't go down； if
they could somehow stick it out。 The play would get finished