"That was Victor," said Hull.
"Yes—I remember him. He was a bad boy—always fighting and robbing orchards and getting kept after school."
"And he's still a bad boy—but in a different way. He's out against everything civilized and everybody that's got money."
"What does he do? Keep a saloon?"
"No, but he spends a lot of time at them. I must say for him that he doesn't drink—and professes not to believe in drink. When I pointed out to him what a bad example he set, loafing round saloons, he laughed at me and said he was spending his spare time exactly as Jesus Christ did. 'You'll find, Davy, old man,' he said, 'if you'll take the trouble to read your Bible, that Jesus traveled with publicans and sinners—and a publican is in plain English a saloonkeeper.'"
"That was very original—wasn't it?" said Jane. "I'm interested in this man. He's—different. I like people who are different."
"I don't think you'd like him, Victor Dorn," said David.
"Don't you?"
"Oh, yes—in a way. I admire him," graciously. "He's really a remarkable fellow, considering his opportunities."
"He calls you 'Davy, old man,'" suggested Jane.