Last Updated：2022/12/24
Passing the third checkpoint, the third smiling [sic] state policeman, a fellow by the name of R. C. Anderson, raises his big silver-watched wrist and touches the brim of his gray felt Stetson (yes, he does) as one faintly remembers Wendell Corey once doing from high on a Canadian Mountie snow peak overlooking something like a distressed Linda Darnell.
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Passing
the
third
checkpoint,
the
third
smiling
[sic]
state
policeman,
a
fellow
by
the
name
of
R.
C.
Anderson,
raises
his
big
silver-watched
wrist
and
touches
the
brim
of
his
gray
felt
Stetson
(yes,
he
does)
as
one
faintly
remembers
Wendell
Corey
once
doing
from
high
on
a
Canadian
Mountie
snow
peak
overlooking
something
like
a
distressed
Linda
Darnell.
