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it
didn
’
t
really
matter
.
No
one
was
going
to
be
playing
rogue
here
next
summer
.
Or
any
summer
in
the
foreseeable
future
.
No
,
it
didn
’
t
really
matter
,
except
that
looking
at
the
racked
mallets
with
the
single
missing
member
had
a
kind
of
fascination
.
He
found
himself
thinking
of
the
hard
wooden
whack
!
of
the
mallet
head
striking
the
round
wooden
ball
.
A
nice
summery
sound
.
Watching
it
skitter
across
the
(
bone
.
blood
.
)
gravel
.
It
conjured
up
images
of
(
bone
.
blood
.
)
iced
tea
,
porch
swings
,
ladies
in
white
straw
hats
,
the
hum
of
mosquitoes
,
and
(
bad
little
boys
who
don
’
t
play
by
the
rules
.
)
all
that
stuff
.
Sure
.
Nice
game
.
Out
of
style
now
,
but
…
nice
.
"
Dick
?
"
The
voice
was
thin
,
frantic
,
and
,
he
thought
,
rather
unpleasant
.
"
Are
you
all
right
,
Dick
?
Come
out
now
.
Please
!
"
