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Updated: September 7, 2025
She had had an early supper, and was to remain in the place until Mr. Hodge had also satisfied his appetite. By this arrangement there was no need of hiring a clerk. They lived in some rooms over the store. "Your supper's ready, William," she said. "I guess supper'll have to wait to-night." "Why?" "'Cause I'm goin' to see if I can't collect damages from Enos Henderson fer what his son done."
Jim will think I have put up this job on him, and never forgive me: nor would I, in his place. This field is getting too thick with missionaries. "Hodge, it won't do. Harness your old nag, and drive me to the station. I must telegraph. And while I'm there, I may as well put for home. We can catch the night train if you hurry."
When the master of the house, the Reverend Mister Popkinson, came into the lodging-room, with a good-natured face, and said, "Newcome, you're wanted," he knew who had come. He did not heed that notorious bruiser, old Hodge, who roared out, "Confound you, Newcome: I'll give it you for upsetting your tea over my new trousers." He ran to the room where the stranger was waiting for him.
If I hadn't been a coward, I should have fought here to-night, instead of Merriwell, and he would be alive now! Oh, I'll never forgive myself for letting him fight in my place! But I'll do my best to avenge I'll swear he was murdered!" "That's rot," said Rupert Reynolds, rather weakly. "It was a clean case of accident." "I am not sure about that," came significantly from the lips of Bart Hodge.
To test the truth of this tradition, at least so far as traces of a previous inhabitancy of the mesa could confirm it, Mr. Frederick W. Hodge, in 1895, made an attempt to reach the summit; but, though he climbed to within sixty feet of the top, he could on that occasion go no higher.
"Here, Will and you, Hodge," speaking to the young carter, "have at him, he shan't come out so soon as he wishes;" and giving a whoop and a shout, the three boys, James, William, and Hodge, set to to drive Tom back again whenever he attempted to get out of the heap of mire upon the dry ground.
"Ay, so we must." "Jack Hodge is right; we must kill him, and there's no sin in it, for he has no right to it; he's robbed some poor fellow of his life to prolong his own." "Ay, ay, that's the way he does; bring him out, I say, then see what we will do with him."
Mr. Hodge read me this letter with a very long face, and asked me what I intended to do. I answered that I should be better able to tell him when he had read me the Postscript to the letter, for that I hardly fancied that Squire Pinchin would behave in so Base and Mean a manner as to run away without paying his Body Servant's wages.
He would almost have been willing to own Hal the scullion, and his hopes rose when he heard of Hodge Randolph, the falconer, but alas, that same Hodge came from Yorkshire. "And mine uncle was from the New Forest in Hampshire," he said. "Maybe he went by the name of Shirley," added Stephen, "'tis where his home was."
"You've named her," nodded Frank. "She's the bride." "Congratulations, Bart, old boy!" said Carson, again wringing the hand of Hodge. "But hasn't Frank put you onto the other event?" asked Bart. "There's a new Merriwell in Bloomfield." "A new Merriwell?" "Three weeks old." "And you never sent me word, Frank!" said Berlin, with a slightly injured air. "How could I? Didn't know your address.
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