Then, as burly Mr.Soden, with great gusto, depicted materialistic tortures that startled the nerves of everybody except Bud, Walter wanted to leave, but Bud would not let him.

For some reason he wished to keep his companion in the crucible as long as possible.
"Young man!" cried Mr.Soden, and the explosive voice seemed to come from the hell that he had created--"young man! you who have followed the counsel of evil companions"-- here he paused and looked about, as if trying to find the man he wanted, while Walter crept up close to Bud and shaded his face--"I mean you who have chosen evil pursuits and who can not get free from bad habits and associations that are dragging you down to hell! You are standing on the very crumbling brink of hell to-night.

The smell of the brimstone is on your garments; the hot breath of hell is in your face! The devils are waiting for you! Delay and you are damned! You may die before daylight! You may never get out that door! The awful angel of death is just ready to strike you down!" Here some shrieked with terror, others sobbed, and Brother Sodom looked with approval on the storm he had awakened.

The very harshness of his tone, his lofty egotism of manner, that which had roused all Bud's combativeness, shook poor Walter as a wind would shake a reed.

In the midst of the general excitement he seized his hat and hastened out the door.