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Updated: July 9, 2025
I can think of no other words strong enough, and I used to watch them when they came here with a curious interest. I didn't approve of all of them. Alison would dismiss them or ignore them or be kind to them as she happened to feel, yet it didn't seem to make any difference. One I suspect she was in love with a fellow without a cent. "Then there was Bedloe Hubbell.
"Where is he?" asked Bedloe sharply with no lessening of the suspicion and ready watchfulness. "In the old dugout at the Poison Hole." "How's it happen you know so much about it?" "Jimmie was a friend to me once when I needed a friend. He got this far, he held out to ride to my cabin night before last and left a note. I took him out some grub last night.
"He has not only made me wonder," declared Bedloe Hubbell, emphatically, "I never knew what religion was until I heard this man last Sunday." "Last Sunday!" "Until then, I hadn't been inside of a church for fifteen years, except to get married. My wife takes the children, occasionally, to a Presbyterian church near us." "And why, did you go then?" she asked.
It was then she grasped the truth that this sudden renewed intimacy was the result of the impression Hodder had left upon the minds of both. "He gave me everything," Bedloe Hubbell replied. "I am willing to acknowledge it freely. In his explanation of the parable of the Prodigal Son, he gave me the clew to our modern times. What was for me an inextricable puzzle has become clear as day.
It was his efficiency she had doubted, not his sincerity. Later tidings, contemptuous and eventually irritable utterances of her own father, together with accounts in the New York newspapers of his campaign, had convinced her in spite of herself that Bedloe Hubbell had actually shaken the seats of power. And somehow, as she now took him in, he looked it.
He marked every man in the place; saw that there were only two of them besides the Kid whom he had ever seen before, one the bartender, one a man with whom he had had no dealings; noted that neither Charley nor Ed Bedloe were in the house.
He sat erect and rigid in his chair his teeth chattered, and his eyes were starting from their sockets. "Proceed!" he at length said hoarsely to Bedloe. "For many minutes," continued the latter, "my sole sentiment my sole feeling was that of darkness and nonentity, with the consciousness of death. At length there seemed to pass a violent and sudden shock through my soul, as if of electricity.
Exactly at noon on Saturday the Republique was ready to sail, and with a shout from those on the wharf who had come to see the few passengers off, she sheered away and started down the bay, past Bedloe Island and the Statue of Liberty. Before night the shore line had faded from view, and they were standing out boldly into the Atlantic Ocean.
"I sha'n't ever forget the time I was a boy in the old Mary Bedloe brig, out o' Boston, loaded with sundries for Jamaica, to bring back molasses and something a leetle mite stronger. That's 'bout as near as I ever got to having traffic with liquor and 'twas an unlucky v'y'ge all the way through. "Before we ever got the rum aboard," pursued Cap'n Amazon, "on our way down there, our water went bad.
Before dawn by the water-gate, and then a chair and a trusty man to cairry it to the plaace of discovery. Ye have appainted the spoat?" "Any ditch in the Marylebone fields," said Bedloe. "And before ye remove it on the Tuesday naight haply ye will run the boady through with his swaard Sir Edmund's swaard." "So you tell me," said Bedloe gruffly, "but I see no reason in it.
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