Mr. Blakey s head was pitched back to look<br >and-leather face of the sheriff. "I said， Cap1<br >you re only doing your job as a public inforrt<br >but I ll never understand why I m not suppc<br >about what everybody here already knows abol<br > "That s telling him， Quent，" said the she<br >amused.<br > "More to it than that，" said Mr. Blakey. "Capt<br >tell me how many POW camps there are or v<br >located， but after awhile he forgot about secut<br >that up in Boston they got a bunch of Italian p<br >do nothing but clean up after the elephants<br >Park."<br > Sheriff Cauldwell leaned his big hen<br >the laugh of the healthy. "Captain wasn<br >was talking crap."<br > From down the tracks， a whistle. Jimmy W，<br >to one of the rails， dropped to his knees， and pr<br >against it. His features were molded into Dane I<br >are-against-us-but-we-can-clc<br >"She s a-coming{"<br > All talking stopped and the small clusters of t<br >merging into one single mass. Even Chester， the<br >was now standing in arm-touching contact with<br > Then amid hissing， steamy clouds of whir<br >braked， screeched， and finally came to a halt.<br ><br ><br >