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Slipped round Mascola's boats by running round south shore. His fleet off Hell-Hole Isthmus. Spotted them hour ago. Don't think he's wise we're here. Can load up fleet if they get here quick and can dodge by Mascola. What shall we do? The message was signed by Tom Howard. Dickie beamed at the news. "I know right where he is," she said.
"What sort of a town is this?" "It's a hell-hole, this dump is, a hell-hole." "That's nice." "Goin' to move soon, tell me.... Army o' Occupation. But Ah hadn't ought to have told you that.... Don't tell any of the fellers." "Where's the outfit quartered?" "Ye won't know it; we've got fifteen new men. No account all of 'em. Second draft men." "Civilians in the town?"
He'd ought to send her away from that hell-hole and give her a chance." "What will they do to her when she gets back?" Dave chuckled. "They can't do a thing. That's the beauty of it. There'll be a lot of tall cussing in Huerfano for a while, but after Hal has onloaded what's on his chest he'll stand between her and the rest." "Sure of that?" "It's a cinch." The cattleman laughed softly.
But Shelley would have called Birmingham what Cobbett called it a hell-hole. Cobbett was one with after Liberals in the ideal of Man under an equal law, a citizen of no mean city. He differed from after Liberals in strongly affirming that Liverpool and Leeds are mean cities.
Borne on the fog-wind came cries and shouts from the other side of the island. Perhaps help was coming at last. But no, it was only the fishermen fighting among themselves off the Hell-Hole. He had heard them many times before across the narrow isthmus. They would only go away as they had always done and leave him to starve. The faint pulsing of a motor launch directed his attention to the sea.
His regiment was going, but two companies would be left behind. His colonel talked about sending him back to Kentucky to bring down some horses, and he was afraid to go. "To think of being in the army as long as I have been, just for this fight. And to think of being left here in this hell-hole all summer, and missing all the fun in Cuba, not to speak of the glory and the game.
Then, forgetting he was in a foreign country, he asked carelessly: "Any luck?" "Not yet," was the quiet reply, in clear English. "It is too early to interest the fishes. An hour later they will bite." "Then why did you come so soon?" "To escape that hell-hole yonder," nodding his head toward the house. Uncle John was surprised. "But you are not a prisoner, doctor," he ventured to say.
I never seen any good come out of them yet. 'Well, we must go through with it now, I suppose. It won't do to leave old dad in the lurch. You won't, will you, Jim? 'You know very well I won't, says Jim, very soberlike. 'I don't like it any the more for that. But I wish father had broke his leg, and was lying up at home, with mother nursing him, before he found out this hell-hole of a place.
"I never go through this damned hell-hole without gettin' the creeps," declared Carter. "An' I've got nerve enough, too, usually. There's somethin' about the place that suggests the cattle an' men it's swallowed. "Do you see that flat section there?" he indicated a spot about a hundred yards wide and half as long, which looked like hard, baked earth, black and dead.
"It ain't that I believe any such thing, Cap'n Sproul," he declared at last, breaking an embarrassing silence. "But here's them wimmen takin' up them San Francisco scandals to study in their Current Events Club, and when the officers here don't act when complaint is made about a hell-hole right here in town, talk starts, and it ain't complimentary talk, either.
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