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Jameson Moore
Jameson Moore

A Little More About Scott

A little more than 24 hours later, on Wednesday, August 4, Scott crashed the stolen car and abandoned it in a back yard in a residential area, while being pursued by Escambia County sheriffs deputies. Scott fled the car on foot and was captured by the deputies within minutes of the crash. The handgun Scott had used in the carjacking was found behind the driver's seat of the rental car.

A Little More About Scott

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Scott switched gears a little more than two years ago and took his career in a different direction opening the Scott Tisdale Insurance Agency in Brushy Creek. His Management, Hospitality, and Facilities experience has really helped him to become a successful Agent. You will find that Scott has a focus on properly covering the needs of his clients always with a friendly smile. Scott enjoys live music performances and all things outdoors including golf, boating, snow skiing, and hiking and is always up for an adventure.

In other cases, it may be rules of thumb that no longer fit. Modernity differs in substantial ways from the environment that evolved us. Until recent history, life was overwhelmingly zero-sum. There was little innovation or social progress. Ambition was evil because, in most cases, to have more was the direct result of taking from somebody else.

MARTIN: Some grown folks conversation. And for folks who don't know what I'm talking about, you know, there's conversations you want the little people to have or to hear, and there's some conversations that are not for them. And there are some very adult things being discussed in this piece. And I want to play a little bit of one, "Insomnia."

Ms. SCOTT: I don't know. That came with age. That came with maturity, I suppose. But when I had my first heartbreak, I wrote a poem because I couldn't sleep and I couldn't eat and I couldn't think. And it drove me crazy, but I needed to get all of it out. And once I wrote it and started to express it on stage - small stage, you know, no big deal to me at the time. It's, you know, it's poetry, really. So I'm just standing there, and it felt better. It just felt better. I was in Philadelphia, at a place called the October Gallery. And every other Friday, they would have poetry night. So you'd pay to get in and you read, you know, your work. And maybe some people like it, some don't. You just don't know. But it was more about creating the craft and understanding the craft.

“ ‘Hudson it is, sir,’ said the seaman.‘Why, it’s thirty year and more since I saw you last. Here you are in yourhouse, and me still picking my salt meat out of the harness cask.’“ ‘Tut, you will find that I have not forgotten oldtimes,’ cried Mr. Trevor, and, walking towards the sailor, he said something in a lowvoice. ‘Go into the kitchen,’ he continued out loud, ‘and you will get foodand drink. I have no doubt that I shall find you a situation.’“ ‘Thank you, sir,’ said the seaman, touchinghis forelock. ‘I’m just off a two-yearer in an eight-knot tramp, short-handed atthat, and I wants a rest. I thought I’d get it either with Mr. Beddoes or withyou.’“ ‘Ah!’ cried Mr. Trevor. ‘You know whereMr. Beddoes is?’“ ‘Bless you, sir, I know where all my old friendsare,’ said the fellow with a sinister smile, and he slouched off after the maid tothe kitchen. Mr. Trevor mumbled something to us about having been shipmate with the manwhen he was going back to the diggings, and then, leaving us on the lawn, he went indoors.An hour later, when we entered the house, we found him stretched dead drunk upon thedining-room sofa. The whole incident left a most ugly impression upon my mind, and I wasnot sorry next day to leave Donnithorpe behind me, for I felt that my presence must be asource of embarrassment to my friend.“All this occurred during the first month of the longvacation. I went up to my London rooms, where I spent seven weeks working out a fewexperiments in organic chemistry. One day, however, when the autumn was far advanced andthe vacation drawing to a close, I received a telegram from my friend imploring me toreturn to Donnithorpe, and saying that he was in great need of my advice and assistance.Of course I dropped everything and set out for the North once more.“He met me with the dog-cart at the station, and I saw ata glance that the last two months had been very trying ones for him. He had grown thin andcareworn, and had lost the loud, cheery manner for which he had been remarkable.“ ‘The governor is dying,’ were the first wordshe said.“ ‘Impossible!’ I cried. ‘What is thematter?’“ ‘Apoplexy. Nervous shock. He’s been on theverge all day. I doubt if we shall find him alive.’“I was, as you may think, Watson, horrified at thisunexpected news.“ ‘What has caused it?’ I asked.“ ‘Ah, that is the point. Jump in and we can talk itover while we drive. You remember that fellow who came upon the evening before you leftus?’“ ‘Perfectly.’“ ‘Do you know who it was that we let into the housethat day?’“ ‘I have no idea.’“ ‘It was the devil, Holmes,’ he cried.“I stared at him in astonishment.“ ‘Yes, it was the devil himself. We have not had apeaceful hour since– not one. The governor has never held up his head from thatevening, and now the life [378] hasbeen crushed out of him and his heart broken, all through this accursed Hudson.’“ ‘What power had he, then?’“ ‘Ah, that is what I would give so much to know.The kindly, charitable good old governor–how could he have fallen into the clutchesof such a ruffian! But I am so glad that you have come, Holmes. I trust very much to yourjudgment and discretion, and I know that you will advise me for the best.’“We were dashing along the smooth white country road,with the long stretch of the Broads in front of us glimmering in the red light of thesetting sun. From a grove upon our left I could already see the high chimneys and theflagstaff which marked the squire’s dwelling.“ ‘My father made the fellow gardener,’ said mycompanion, ‘and then, as that did not satisfy him, he was promoted to be butler. Thehouse seemed to be at his mercy, and he wandered about and did what he chose in it. Themaids complained of his drunken habits and his vile language. The dad raised their wagesall round to recompense them for the annoyance. The fellow would take the boat and myfather’s best gun and treat himself to little shooting trips. And all this with sucha sneering, leering, insolent face that I would have knocked him down twenty times over ifhe had been a man of my own age. I tell you, Holmes, I have had to keep a tight hold uponmyself all this time; and now I am asking myself whether, if I had let myself go a littlemore, I might not have been a wiser man.“ ‘Well, matters went from bad to worse with us, andthis animal Hudson became more and more intrusive, until at last, on his making someinsolent reply to my father in my presence one day, I took him by the shoulders and turnedhim out of the room. He slunk away with a livid face and two venomous eyes which utteredmore threats than his tongue could do. I don’t know what passed between the poor dadand him after that, but the dad came to me next day and asked me whether I would mindapologizing to Hudson. I refused, as you can imagine, and asked my father how he couldallow such a wretch to take such liberties with himself and his household.“ ‘ “Ah, my boy,” said he, “it is allvery well to talk, but you don’t know how I am placed. But you shall know, Victor.I’ll see that you shall know, come what may. You wouldn’t believe harm of yourpoor old father, would you, lad?” He was very much moved and shut himself up in thestudy all day, where I could see through the window that he was writing busily.“ ‘That evening there came what seemed to me to be agrand release, for Hudson told us that he was going to leave us. He walked into thedining-room as we sat after dinner and announced his intention in the thick voice of ahalf-drunken man.“ ‘ “I’ve had enough of Norfolk,”said he. “I’ll run down to Mr. Beddoes in Hampshire. He’ll be as glad tosee me as you were, I daresay.”“ ‘ “You’re not going away in an unkindspirit, Hudson, I hope,” said my father with a tameness which made my blood boil.

“ ‘ “I’ve not had my’pology,” said he sulkily, glancing in my direction.“ ‘ “Victor, you will acknowledge that you haveused this worthy fellow rather roughly,” said the dad, turning to me.“ ‘ “On the contrary, I think that we have bothshown extraordinary patience towards him,” I answered.“ ‘ “Oh, you do, do you?” he snarled.“Very good, mate. We’ll see about that!”“ ‘He slouched out of the room and half an hourafterwards left the house, [379] leavingmy father in a state of pitiable nervousness. Night after night I heard him pacing hisroom, and it was just as he was recovering his confidence that the blow did at lastfall.’“ ‘And how?’ I asked eagerly.“ ‘In a most extraordinary fashion. A letter arrivedfor my father yesterday evening, bearing the Fordingham postmark. My father read it,clapped both his hands to his head, and began running round the room in little circleslike a man who has been driven out of his senses. When I at last drew him down on to thesofa, his mouth and eyelids were all puckered on one side, and I saw that he had a stroke.Dr. Fordham came over at once. We put him to bed, but the paralysis has spread, he hasshown no sign of returning consciousness, and I think that we shall hardly find himalive.’“ ‘You horrify me, Trevor!’ I cried. ‘Whatthen could have been in this letter to cause so dreadful a result?’“ ‘Nothing. There lies the inexplicable part of it.The message was absurd and trivial. Ah, my God, it is as I feared!’“As he spoke we came round the curve of the avenue andsaw in the fading light that every blind in the house had been drawn down. As we dashed upto the door, my friend’s face convulsed with grief, a gentleman in black emerged fromit.“ ‘When did it happen, doctor?’ asked Trevor.“ ‘Almost immediately after you left.’“ ‘Did he recover consciousness?’“ ‘For an instant before the end.’“ ‘Any message for me?’“ ‘Only that the papers were in the back drawer ofthe Japanese cabinet.’“My friend ascended with the doctor to the chamber ofdeath, while I remained in the study, turning the whole matter over and over in my head,and feeling as sombre as ever I had done in my life. What was the past of this Trevor,pugilist, traveller, and gold-digger, and how had he placed himself in the power of thisacid-faced seaman? Why, too, should he faint at an allusion to the half-effaced initialsupon his arm and die of fright when he had a letter from Fordingham? Then I rememberedthat Fordingham was in Hampshire, and that this Mr. Beddoes, whom the seaman had gone tovisit and presumably to blackmail, had also been mentioned as living in Hampshire. Theletter, then, might either come from Hudson, the seaman, saying that he had betrayed theguilty secret which appeared to exist, or it might come from Beddoes, warning an oldconfederate that such a betrayal was imminent. So far it seemed clear enough. But then howcould this letter be trivial and grotesque, as described by the son? He must have misreadit. If so, it must have been one of those ingenious secret codes which mean one thingwhile they seem to mean another. I must see this letter. If there was a hidden meaning init, I was confident that I could pluck it forth. For an hour I sat pondering over it inthe gloom, until at last a weeping maid brought in a lamp, and close at her heels came myfriend Trevor, pale but composed, with these very papers which lie upon my knee held inhis grasp. He sat down opposite to me, drew the lamp to the edge of the table, and handedme a short note scribbled, as you see, upon a single sheet of gray paper. ‘The supplyof game for London is going steadily up,’ it ran. ‘Head-keeper Hudson, webelieve, has been now told to receive all orders for fly-paper and for preservation ofyour hen-pheasant’s life.’[380] “Idaresay my face looked as bewildered as yours did just now when first I read this message.Then I reread it very carefully. It was evidently as I had thought, and some secretmeaning must lie buried in this strange combination of words. Or could it be that therewas a prearranged significance to such phrases as ‘fly-paper’ and‘hen-pheasant’? Such a meaning would be arbitrary and could not be deduced inany way. And yet I was loath to believe that this was the case, and the presence of theword Hudson seemed to show that the subject of the message was as I had guessed, and thatit was from Beddoes rather than the sailor. I tried it backward, but the combination‘life pheasant’s hen’ was not encouraging. Then I tried alternate words,but neither ‘the of for’ nor ‘supply game London’ promised to throwany light upon it.


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