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Cooke, Grace MacGowan, 1863-1944

"The Power and the Glory"

His eyes
were open now. He raised himself a bit on her uncle's arm, and declared
in a fairly audible voice:
"I'm all right. I'm not hurt."
"Somebody git me a glass of water," called Uncle Pros.
Mavity Bence ran out with one, but when she got close enough to see
plainly the shackled figure Passmore supported, she thrust the glass
into Mandy Meacham's hand and flung her apron over her head.
"Good Lord!" she moaned. "I reckon they've killed him. They done one of
my brothers that-a-way in feud times, and throwed him over a bluff. Oh,
my Lord; Why will men be so mean?"
Pros had taken the glass from Mandy and held it to Gray's lips. Then he
dashed part of the remaining water on Stoddard's handkerchief and with
Mandy's help, got the blood cleared away.
From every shanty, women and children came hastening--men hurried up
from every direction.
"Look at her--look at Johnnie!" cried Beulah Catlett. "Pony! Milo!"
turning back into the house, where the boys lay sleeping. "Come out here
and look at your sister!"
"Did ye run it all by yourself, Sis' Johnnie?" piped Lissy from the
porch.
The girl in the driver's seat smiled and nodded to the child.
"Are you through there, Uncle Pros?" asked Johnnie. "We must get Mr.
Stoddard on to his house."
The women and children drew back, the crowd ahead parted, and the car
got under way once more.


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