Chapter 13
CABIN FEVER IN THE WORST FORMBud Moore woke on a certain morning with a distinct and well-
defined grouch against the world as he had found it; a grouch quite
different from the sullen imp of contrariness that had possessed
him lately. He did not know just what had caused the grouch, and he
did not care. He did know, however, that he objected to the look of
Cash's overshoes that stood pigeon-toed beside Cash's bed on the
opposite side of the room, where Bud had not set his foot for three
weeks and more. He disliked the audible yawn with which Cash
manifested his return from the deathlike unconsciousness of sleep.
He disliked the look of Cash's rough coat and sweater and cap, that
hung on a nail over Cash's bunk. He disliked the thought of getting
up in the cold—and m
