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Roylsden #97


The Sheriff bent over the girl, his hand on her forehead.
"Can you feel how cold she is, Doc?"
Doc Morris nodded.
Sheriff Cole rubbed the girl's arms.
Doc Morris held out a whisky bottle to the Sheriff and whispered "In her state, this can't do any harm," then said aloud "This'll warm the poor mite, Sheriff. Put a few drops on her lips and in her mouth."
There was the slightest movement of the lips. Nothing more.
Doc Morris lifted the blanket off her and placed his hand on her chest, feeling for a heartbeat. There was barely one.

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