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The doctor would have given a year of his life if only Rolla had had the courage to examine the bones; there might have been bullet-holes, or other evidence of how they had met their death. The Sanusian chose rather to back carefully away from the spot.
For the want of it, he had seen General Braddock lead an army into the jaws of destruction, and he may have still possessed in some closet of Mount Vernon the coat with four bullet-holes in it which he had himself worn on that occasion.
Mind you, it was the other wound that was killing him. There he sat dying on the road. I felt like dying for him felt that I couldn't bear it if it took long. He was in my arms and the canteen was emptying itself through the bullet-holes.
The gate swung wider. He was here he panted in, out-sped by the balls but still on his feet. Eager hands received him and his burden; the gate slammed to and the bar fell into place. "Hurt, Logan?" "No. Never mind me; watch the walls." There were bullet-holes in his shirt and hat. The gate and the pickets enclosing it were riddled, but by a miracle the lead had not touched his flesh.
But every man who's lived along the Texas border remembers a lot about your Dad. It was expected of you, I reckon, an' much of your rep was established before you thronged your gun. I jest heerd thet you was lightnin' on the draw, an' when you cut loose with a gun, why the figger on the ace of spades would cover your cluster of bullet-holes. Thet's the word thet's gone down the border.
Another, a cowboy who evidently had just left the gaming-table, leaned down and pulled open Bain's shirt. He had the ace of spades in his hand. He laid it on Bain's breast, and the black figure on the card covered the two bullet-holes just over Bain's heart. Duane wheeled and hurried away. He heard another man say: "Reckon Cal got what he deserved. Buck Duane's first gunplay.
Through chinks and splintered bullet-holes, the light stole in, making daggers across the darkness. It splashed the walls, the great stone-flags, the black mouth of the cellar, and the dresser in the corner. There sat Knapp, a grey ghost spotted here and there with light. The little rifleman was naked now, save for a pair of fighting drawers. A heap of clothes sprawled at his feet.
"Don't tell me you really mean to try it." "What else did you think I was going to do?" "But you can't. You would get caught for a certainty. And what are you going to do then? Say it was all a joke? Suppose they fill you full of bullet-holes! Nice sort of fool you'll look, appealing to some outraged householder's sense of humor, while he pumps you full of lead with a Colt."
You, the conqueror, ill-clad, unshaven, and with a hat full of bullet-holes, walking outside the palace, with the incompetent Directors lodged comfortably inside, will make a scene that is bound to give the people food for thought." "Well said!" cried Bonaparte. "Here are the pistols go out into the woods and prepare the hat. I'll fray the collars."
Then he was gone, and the walls were crowding in on her to crush her, and then receding to immeasurable distances, and the blood and air from her pierced lungs bubbled through the bullet-holes in the serge stuff and the scorched linen.
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