The Last Coin
“ Robert Louis StevensonVirginibus Puerisque IT WAS LATE—after midnight. Pennyman hadn’t come in all day. Andrew was sure of it. He would give the old man another hour, maybe catch an hour of sleep himself, if he could. It was high time he had a look inside Pennyman’s room, and this was as good a night as any. He punched buttons on his little battery-operated kitchen timer, setting it for sixty minutes. In order to muffle it, he shoved it under the pillow on the couch. Then he lay down and fel...l asleep almost at once.
He woke up from a dream involving pigs, wondering where he was, wondering at the ringing buzz in his ear, and he groped for the alarm clock. Then he remembered. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes. He could barely keep them wedged open. His back was nearly murdering him, and he was stiff in the joints. He suddenly wanted very much to go back to sleep, to lie on the couch forever. But he couldn’t. He had a mission. When he stood up, though, he almost tumbled forward onto his face.MoreLess
He woke up from a dream involving pigs, wondering where he was, wondering at the ringing buzz in his ear, and he groped for the alarm clock. Then he remembered. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes. He could barely keep them wedged open. His back was nearly murdering him, and he was stiff in the joints. He suddenly wanted very much to go back to sleep, to lie on the couch forever. But he couldn’t. He had a mission. When he stood up, though, he almost tumbled forward onto his face.MoreLess
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