midday
The noise from the bull pen was deafening . He went to the window and steeled himself against the sight below ... At first he shuddered , but gradually his hands became clenched , in answer to a rising determination . Why should he flinch from anything God himself could look upon ? ... He was still standing by the window when the gong for the midday meal sounded . The bull pen had long since been deserted and , with the foreground swept clean of its human excrescence , his purposeless gaze had wandered instinctively toward the promise of the forest-green hills in the distance . He heard the familiar rush of feet toward the dining room and he was vaguely conscious that some one had halted before his door . He turned about .