Explore "The Man of Last Resort" by Melville Davisson Post on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE sheriff stopped on the steps of the court-house, pushed his straw / hat back from his forehead, moved his eyeglasses up a little closer / to his fat face, and began to contemplate the limits of his official / jurisdiction, with the air of one about to deduce a law.
The little county seat on Tug River slept in a pocket. Behind it and / on every side except the river were great mountains, half-hidden by a / gigantic cloak of fog. On the opposite side, from the great coal plants / of the Norfolk and Western Railroad a counter-canopy of smoke arose, / dense and voluminous, and stretched itself like a black hand out over / the town and across to the fog of the mountain. Man, it seemed, had / conspired with nature to cover up and hide the town of Welch.