The excess flesh of the deputy marshal would have brought his nickname to the mind of an imbecile.
However, Fatty was humming softly to himself, and it is not the habit of men who treat very sick patients to sing.
"I'll hit it agin," said Fatty.

"I need it." "Have a bad time of it to-day ?" asked O'Brien sympathetically.
"Bad time to-day?
Yep, an' every day is the same.

I tell you, O'Brien, it takes a pile of nerve to stand around that room expectin' Jerry to pass out any minute, and the eyes of that devil Mac Strann followin' you every step you make.

D'you know, if Jerry dies I figure Mac to go at my throat like a bulldog." "You're wrong, Fatty," replied O'Brien.

"That ain't his way about it.