"If I beat Barbara Boxer, we will have taken over the Senate," Devore said.

To Devore's credit also I will say that he didn't run to the chief, bearing complaints of the major's hopeless incompetency.

DeVore was conscious of a wave of hopeless fury, and a fleeting glimpse of Morely's face, framed by brilliant flame.

And in a minute or two more Devore came down looking happy and unhappy and embarrassed and exalted, all of them at once.

And while we were doing this Devore framed a triple-deck, black-face head.

I've always been satisfied—and so has Devore—that if the blow had landed true his skull would have caved in like a puff-ball.