FORE:
FORE:"Mebbe not," said Si, to whom such sights were more familiar, "That bullet hole in his blouse is too low down and too fur out to've hit either his heart or his lungs, seems to me. Mebbe he's only fainted from loss o' blood. Ketch hold o' his feet. I'll take his head, and we'll carry him back to the Surgeon. Likely he kin bring him to."
FORE:Get it through your head that this has nothing to do with the Board elections. This is a serious matter. I can stop you, J. O., and don't think I won't if it comes to that. But I don't want to make threats.
THREE:"That's so," assented Shorty. "I'd a-gone back last night, but we was all so dead tired."FROM: Gregory Whiting and staff
THREE: sayin bout yore saffron head, but I shant write a word till
