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Updated: May 10, 2025
Come on, I'm for bed. Perhaps his wife does know him. What I'm thinking is, does he know his wife? I'm a solicitor. I know what I'd say if she came to me." On a day a month later in May Hapgood said: "Now, I'll tell you. Old Sabre by Jove, it's frightful. He's crashed. The roof's fallen in on him. He's nearly out of his mind. I don't like it. I don't like it a bit. I've only just left him.
"No, Captain Benson," interposed Tom, faintly. "Hapgood is an old soldier, and deserves it more than I do. Give it to him, and I shall be better satisfied than if you give it to me." "Tom Somers!" exclaimed old Hapgood, a flood of tears sliding down his furrowed cheeks, "I won't stand nothin' of the sort! I'd jump into the river and drownd myself before I'd take it, after what you've done."
And the churches know it; and instead of reaching down to him what he wants light, light instead of that, they invite him to dancing and picture shows, and you're a jolly good fellow, and religion's a jolly fine thing and no spoilsport, and all that sort of latter-day tendency. Damn it, he can get all that outside the churches and get it better. Light, light! He wants light, Hapgood.
I thought that maybe you had forgotten us." And then, blushing prettily over the hand which Mr. Hapgood was still holding ardently in his, "Won't you come in?" Mr. Hapgood, having assured her that he should forget all else in the world before he forgot her, called her attention to the fact that it was a deucedly fine evening, and that it would be too bad to lose any of it by going into the house.
The Hapgood house had been in the family for generations, and was kept in such an excellent state of repair that it bade fair to outlast many of the more recent houses of the town.
And in the early dawn both Jimmie and Bart stood peering out from behind the corner of the barn at two figures riding rapidly southward into the morning mists. That day's ride was a matter never to be forgotten by the two men. Their muscles were soft from dissipation and long years of idleness. In particular did Hapgood suffer.
Some of us that stand here now won't be alive in twenty-four hours from now; for I don't believe the rebs are going to let us have it all our own way," said the veteran. "Nor I," added Fred Pemberton. "I shall be killed in this fight." "How do you know, Fred?" demanded Hapgood, sternly. "Of course I don't know, but I feel it in my bones that I shall fall in the first battle."
And Hapgood after the same examination and a sight of the rough beds covered with patchwork comforters, groaned aloud. "Maybe it's funny," he muttered. "But if it is, I don't see it." "What are you going to do about it?" chuckled Conniston. "You can't fling out and go to the rival hotel, because there isn't any! You can't sleep outdoors very well. And you can't catch a train until a train comes.
Hapgood was upon his feet, staring. Hapgood's complacency was a thing of the past. Conniston nodded, his grin still with him. "Every cent of it! And here we are the Lord knows how far from home " "Have you looked through all your pockets?" "Every one. And I found " "What?" "A hole," chuckled Conniston. "Just a hole, and nothing more."
Hapgood, remembering the ride of yesterday, scrambled to his feet even before Conniston. And the two young men, having washed their faces and hands at the pipe which discharged its cold stream into the trough, joined the Half Moon man. He had already fried bacon, and now was cooking some flapjacks in the grease which he had carefully saved.
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