noon
Another ... '' his brain sang over and over endlessly . He was wet with perspiration ; he staggered under the weights ; he was exhausted , but he could not stop . It was as if he were on a treadmill where he had to keep stepping on and on and on whether he could take another step or not ... . After a century the noon whistle blew . Bonbright did not leave his place . He simply sagged down in his tracks and lay there , eyes shut , panting . Gradually his brain cleared , but he was too weary to move .