Excerpt from Coraddi, Vol. 45: Spring 1940-41
He made Vance think he was God Almighty, I guess. He spat at the stove.
The other man, a short fellow with red stubby hair, had looked at me then. I don't guess Vance knowed what he was gettin' into, listen ing to Newton and his kind. His face turned brick red. Damn dirty trouble makers, he'd added, twisting his greasy cap around in his fingers. They even threatened to burn us out at the store if we didn't join up with 'em. I guess we handed them a dose of their own medi cine, but Vance was took in.
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