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Updated: May 9, 2025
Sheriff McRae, with a couple of slight wounds in his left leg and heel, was forced to his knees by the impact of bullets against the steel jacket which he wore, remaining in a supplicating attitude for a few seconds while he sobbed out in a quavering tone, "O-o-oh! I'm hit! I-I'm hit!! I-I-I'm hit!!!"
The judge appeared to reflect. "Well, no," he said at last, "I don't know as there is." "Well, is there?" said Jethro, again. "No," said the judge, with the finality of a decision. A smile seemed to be pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Well, I'm a candidate," said Jethro. "Do you tell me, Jethro, that you want me to appoint you agent to fix that road?" "I-I'm a candidate."
With downcast face he eyed a crack in the floor near the teacher's desk while his right hand rested tremblingly against his flushed forehead. "Willie, what makes you tremble so?" asked the teacher in a gruff voice. "I-I'm sick," came the feeble reply. "Why did you miss school yesterday?" he repeated sternly. "I-I fell into the creek on my way to school and got my feet wet."
The judge appeared to reflect. "Well, no," he said at last, "I don't know as there is." "Well, is there?" said Jethro, again. "No," said the judge, with the finality of a decision. A smile seemed to be pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Well, I'm a candidate," said Jethro. "Do you tell me, Jethro, that you want me to appoint you agent to fix that road?" "I-I'm a candidate."
I want your father to interview Dryfoos for me, and I-I'm afraid to ask him." "Poo' Mr. Fulkerson!" she said, and she insinuated something through her burlesque compassion that lifted him to the skies. He swore in his heart that the woman never lived who was so witty, so wise, so beautiful, and so good.
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