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"They say you and Keating have been out to get them ever since they were hired. You and your supervisors have been persecuting both of those men systematically. The fact that Burris has had grounds for all these previous complaints proves that." "It proves that Burris has a persecution complex, and that Koffler's credulous enough to believe him," Melroy replied.
Doris Rives had finished evaluating the completed tests; after dinner, she intended going over the written portions of the uncompleted tests. "How'd the finished tests come out?" Melroy asked her. "Better than I'd expected. Only two washouts," she replied. "Harvey Burris and Julius Koffler." "Oh, no!" Keating wailed. "The I.F.A.W. steward, and the loudest-mouthed I-know-my-rights boy on the job!"
Ragtown's biggest day was when old Basil Filer, having been acquitted of the charge of murder on the evidence furnished by Jerkline Jo and Hiram Hooker, returned to hunt for his burros. This was Ragtown's greatest day because Hiram Hooker and his bride came, too. They had spent a pleasant time with Uncle Sebastian Burris in Mendocino County, most glorious of countries in spring.
The younger mediator, Quillen, cleared his throat. "It seems, from our information, that this entire dispute arises from the discharge, by Mr. Melroy, of two of his employees, named Koffler and Burris. Is that correct?"
In November, General Preston, at the head of 6,000 foot and 600 horse, encountered Monk at Tymahoe and Ballinakil, with some loss; but before the close of December he had reduced Birr, Banagher, Burris, and Fort Falkland, and found himself master of King's county, from the Shannon to the Barrow.
Koffler has made to us about different unfair work-assignments, improper working conditions, inequities in allotting overtime work, and other infractions of union-shop conditions, on behalf of Mr. Burris. So you decided to get rid of both of them, and you think you can use this clause in our contract with your company about persons of deficient intelligence.
A faded blue shirt covered his barrel of a body, and his slouch hat was off, exposing long, light, wiry hair and a freckled neck. His lean jaws were covered by a two weeks' growth of beard. About him drooped hazels and alders. From one end to the other Ripley Creek was beautiful; there was no lovelier spot in all of California. "Hello, Hiram!" Sebastian Burris called at last.
Doris Rives clung tighter to Melroy's arm as he pushed a way for himself and her through the crowd and into the temporary office. Inside, they were met by a young man with a deputy marshal's badge on his flannel shirt and a .38 revolver on his hip. "Ben Puryear: Dr. Rives," Melroy introduced. "Who's the mouthy character outside?" "One of the roustabouts; name's Burris," Puryear replied.
He never knew fear, and the forty that then made up the company were as brave men as ever drew breath. John Jarrette We were not long quiet. Burris had a detachment raiding in the neighborhood of Independence. We struck their camp at sunset. We were thirty-two; they eighty-four; but we were sure shots and one volley broke their ranks in utter confusion.
He wondered if it would not be a practical idea to commit it to memory. Why, certainly that was the thing to do. He was nearing such foothills as the abrupt mountain range boasted when he decided not only to memorize it, but to make a copy on an envelope which was in his pocket. It had covered a letter from Uncle Sebastian Burris, Hiram's benefactor, up there in Mendocino County.
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