The same old song

The same old song The night the crackers burned a cross in front of Doc Brown's tent, Turner and I pulled the late guard, watched as the smoke rose over the company yard, and I could sense his anger across the close dark of our sandbagged hole, when he sighed—I knew they'd get around to this. Staring through the starlight scope, I thought I saw that burning cross spread its flames beyond the headlands, reddening the sky— until dawn took me by sur...