"I'll have to commence on something else, though--turpentine's played out I used it most all up on you." "Coal oil's good.

And fry up a mess of onions and make a poultice." He put up a shaking hand before his mouth and coughed behind it, stifling the sound all he could.
Lovin Child threw up his hands and whimpered, and Bud went over to him anxiously.

"His little hands are awful hot," he muttered.

"He's been that way all night." Cash did not answer.

There did not seem anything to say that would do any good.