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"Just so," said this peasant, who had evidently not yet rid himself of the military hypnotism he had been subjected to while serving his time. "It means that you have sufficient land," said Nekhludoff. "No, sir, we have not," said the ex-soldier, with an artificially pleased look, carefully holding his tattered cap in front of him, as if offering it to any one who liked to make use of it.
"Then had you not better consider WHY it is your lot?" The ex-soldier took his pipe from his mouth, let fall the hand which held it, and smoothed his plain features in silent amazement. Then he exclaimed in uncouth, querulous tones: "Had I not better consider WHY it is my lot, and so forth? Why, damn it, the causes are many.
Lawlessness is sometimes less a matter of temperament than of surroundings. The Fight of Buckshot Roberts Encounter Between a Crippled Ex-Soldier and the Band of Billy the Kid One Man Against Thirteen.
Take that mountain there, and that cleft in the mountain are they not good to look at?" And as he moved away, the ex-soldier gaped after him with a repeated whisper of: "The fool!" To which presently he added in a louder, as well as a mysterious, tone: "I have heard that occasionally they send fever patients hither for their health."
This unique individual was no less than an ex-soldier turned religionist, who, having suffered the whips and privations of our peculiar social system, had concluded that his duty to the God which he conceived lay in aiding his fellow-man. The form of aid which he chose to administer was entirely original with himself.
The street was apparently deserted, and we did not stop to look for any "operatives," but left our machine and stole quietly upstairs and into the room. Comrade Abell sat at the table, with his head bowed in his arms, sound asleep. Lynch, the ex-soldier, and Tom Moneta, the Mexican, were lying on the floor snoring. And on a chair near the doorway, watching the scene, sat Hamby, wide awake.
"The land, according to my idea, can neither be bought nor sold, because if it could be, he who has got the money could buy it all, and exact anything he liked for the use of the land from those who have none." "That's true," said the long-nosed man, in a deep bass. "Just so," said the ex-soldier.
Along the tortuous water course, Stormy Gorman, the old prize-fighter, and Dutch Henry, the ex-soldier, had preempted two of the very few pieces of land that did not stand directly on edge and built for themselves cabins. Gorman's cabin lay a mile above the fork where the raiders had halted; Henry's lay a few miles farther up the creek.
"His head is not quite right," muttered the ex-soldier as he winked in the direction of the retreating figure. "Yes, I tell you that straight, for from the first it was clear to me. Otherwise, what could his words in depredation of Russia mean, when of Russia nothing the least hard or definite can be said? Who really knows her?
"Silence!" a threatening voice near the barraque broke in. "I am the foreman here." The voice of the ex-soldier replied: "What workmen are these of yours? They are mere sectarians, fellows who are for ever singing hymns." To which someone else added: "Besides, old devil that you are, aren't you bound to finish all building work before the beginning of a Sunday?"
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