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Bud followed, while Soden shot his lightnings after them, declaring that "young men who ran away from the truth would dwell in torments forever." Bud had not counted amiss when he thought that Mr. Soden's preaching would be likely to arouse so mean-spirited a fellow as Walter. So vivid was the impression that Johnson begged Bud to return to the office with him.
"There were only two places he missed, the bank and the cottage down the road Smart's place where Mrs. Eustace is living." "Ah! Then that poor thing's a widow?" "That's so," Soden replied. "But, between you and me, I don't think for long. You know she and Harding he's our new bank manager, by the way are old friends, Mr.
The pale face of Frau Lenore appeared at the window; Gemma waved her handkerchief to her, and the horses started. Soden is a little town half an hour's distance from Frankfort. It lies in a beautiful country among the spurs of the Taunus Mountains, and is known among us in Russia for its waters, which are supposed to be beneficial to people with weak lungs.
Even the bandages of the poor wounded were torn off in search of hidden money or valuables. Lieutenant von Soden was beaten with hellish cruelty on his sore feet and gangraenous toes so that they bled. When nothing more could be found on the sick and wounded they were left lying on the stone floor. There was no idea of medicine.
"Oh, that's getting on. Anything fresh about the bank?" "Why, haven't you heard?" Soden cried. "They've found Eustace, found him with a bullet through him, lying in the water at the ford in the range. He's over there now," he added, jerking his head towards the police-station. "What's that you say?" Dudgeon exclaimed, open-eyed and open-mouthed.
The Frankforters visit it more for purposes of recreation, as Soden possesses a fine park and various 'wirthschaften, where one may drink beer and coffee in the shade of the tall limes and maples. The road from Frankfort to Soden runs along the right bank of the Maine, and is planted all along with fruit trees.
I'll wire to every telegraph office within a hundred miles. I'll send or bring you word within half an hour." "Supposing there is any truth in the yarn," Soden remarked slowly, "how is it going to help? I brought the men along, not because I believed their yarn, but because it seemed to me they might know more about the robbery than they would care to have known."
Soden whose manner of preaching had so aroused Bud's combativeness, and whose saddle-stirrups Bud had helped to amputate. For reasons of his own, Bud thought best to subject young Johnson to the heat of Mr. Soden's furnace. Peter Cartwright boasts that, on a certain occasion, he "shook his brimstone wallet" over the people. Mr. Soden could never preach without his brimstone wallet.
I was almost afraid that you might have misunderstood my non-appearance at Soden or Baden, and I am cordially delighted at being set right by you as to this. As I wrote to you before, it was IMPOSSIBLE for me to get away from here before Thursday, August 16th. Well, all is over now, and you have pardoned me. Let us talk of something else.
Walter felt inclined to stop, but he could not do it, for there stood Mr. Soden, looking to him like a messenger from the skies, or the bottomless pit, sent to extort the last word from his guilty soul He felt that he was making a clean breast of it at the risk of perdition, with the penitentiary thrown in, if he faltered.
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