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As he spoke he leaned over the engine, and gave it a turn. Tommy, Miss Pipkin’s black cat, was mincing contentedly at some scraps when the chug-chug of the exhaust shot from the side of the boat. Tommy shot from the cockpit. He paused on the upper step, a startled glare in his eyes. He forgot the tempting morsels; he forgot his rheumatism; he was bent on flight. And fly he did. With a wild yodeling yell he sprang forward. Like a black cyclone he circled the deck. On his fourth time round he caught sight of the minister’s legs. He and Elizabeth were standing at the wheel, ready to steer the boat out of the harbor. To the cat’s excited glance the man’s legs suggested the beginnings of tree trunks, at the top of which there was safety and repose from the spitting demon at the side of the boat. Like a flying bat he made the leap. But he had misjudged both the distance and his own rheumatic muscles. He landed on the girl, and came to a rest half-way to her shoulder. His claws sank into the thick folds of her sweater. Elizabeth released her hold on the wheel, and with a cry fell back against the135minister. A pair of strong arms lost neither time nor opportunity. With a little persuasion Tommy saw his mistake, and dropped to the deck. He took up his interrupted flight, finally coming to an uncertain rest somewhere aloft.
Elizabeth looked up, smiled, blushed like a peony, took hold the wheel, and gently released herself.
“Oh, thank you! Wasn’t it stupid of me to let that old cat frighten me so?”
Mr. McGowan declared that he was delighted to have been of service, and his emotions began to be very evident to him.
It took considerable coaxing on the part of the Captain, and more clawing on the part of Tommy, before he could be convinced that the cabin was as safe as the mast. At last he gave in and came down, and as the boat left the harbor he was purring contentedly, folded safely in the arms of Miss Pipkin.
Before they reached Little River harbor, Miss Pipkin had many times declared she was going to die. The Captain as many times remonstrated with her, but she only showed a136greater determination to die. When the boat was anchored, she refused to move or be moved. The minister lifted her bodily, and carried her to the dory. As he was handing her over the side into the Captain’s arms, she objected to the transference by a sudden lurch, which sent the minister to his knees. His foot caught on the gunwale, and his ankle was severely wrenched. On releasing his shoe string that night he discovered a serious sprain.
137CHAPTER VII
“Lan’ sakes!” exclaimed Miss Pipkin, who, fully recovered, was busily engaged in the kitchen on the following morning when the minister entered. “Now, what is the matter with you, Mr. McGowan?”
He was leaning on the back of a chair which he was sliding along the floor in front of him.
“I twisted my ankle last evening as I was leaving the boat.”
“You did! And you never said one word! How did you do it?”
“I slipped just as I handed you over the side.”
“It was my foolishness that made you do it. Josiah!” she called, as the Captain came down by the rear stair. “Get me a basin of water and the cayenne pepper, quick!”
The Captain obeyed with alacrity. Miss Pipkin soon had the ankle in the water, and the water was a fiery red in color.
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“It’ll take the swelling out,” she affirmed.
“Ain’t you got it a mite too hot with pepper, Clemmie?”
“No, I ain’t. That’s all you men know about such things.”
“Well, I didn’t know.”
The swelling began to disappear according to the prophecy of the housekeeper, but the skin took on the color of the reddened water in the basin. An hour later Mr. McGowan was undecided which was the more undesirable, the pain from the sprain, or the blisters from the treatment.
“Cal’late I’ll run down to theJennie P.,” announced the Captain after breakfast. “You can’t navigate that far, can you, Mack?”
“Josiah Pott! What on earth do you mean? Of course he can’t, and you know it. I don’t see what you want to go traipsing down to that thing for, anyhow; it ain’t going to get loose, though it’d be a good loss if it did.”
“It ain’t likely she’ll get away, that’s sartin sure, but I thought I’d do a little work on139her. I ain’t had much time afore now, with all my cooking and keeping house. The minister said my engine wa’n’t clean.”
“Well, if you ain’t been cooking better than you’ve been keeping house, the wonder is you ain’t both dead,” she said, peering about the room.
Fearing further comment, the Captain hastily left the house. On reaching the wharf, he was surprised to see Elizabeth walking from the far end to meet him.
“Morning, Beth. Out purty early for your constitutional, ain’t you?”
“Good morning, Uncle Josiah. I’ve been waiting for you an awful long time. Are you going out to theJennie P.?”
“That’s my calculation. Want to go along?”
“If I may.”
“Of course you can. Did you leave something aboard last night?”
“No. I just came down here on purpose to see you. I felt certain you would be going out.”
“You come down just to see me? What do140you want to see an old feller like me for? Now, if it was–––”
“You, old! Who’s been telling you that?”
“Nobody, ’cepting this infernal rheumatism. But I ain’t quite as badly crippled up this morning as the preacher is, at that.”
“Do you mean to say that the minister has the rheumatism?”
“No, he ain’t got nothing as tame or ordinary as that. He started with a sprained j’int from the cruise, but he’s going to have something far worse, if I don’t miss my guess. Clemmie’s been soaking his ankle in red pepper.” He chuckled quietly as he helped Elizabeth into the dory.
“Soaking his foot in red pepper?”
“Yes. Hot as fire, too, it was. I asked if she didn’t have the water a mite too red, but she said it wa’n’t, and I cal’late she’d otter know.”
“Isn’t she the quaintest little woman? I remember her when I was a child, but she didn’t like me one bit because I spilled some hot water on her once. Is she going to stay with you?”
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“She’s going to keep house,” replied the Captain, drawing the dory alongside his power-boat. “Well, here we be, Beth.”
Elizabeth sprang lightly over the side. She led the way to the roof of the cabin, where she sat down. When the Captain had taken his place at her side, she looked up eagerly into his eyes.
“I do so hope you will understand me, Uncle Josiah!”
“I’ve always tried to, Beth.”
“I know you have! Tell me, did my––did any one you know have anything to do with making up that boxing match the other night?”
“There was a good many that had to do with it, unless I’m ’way off in my reckoning.”
“Has Mr. McGowan said anything about Father in connection with the affair?”
“He ain’t said nothing to me,” responded the Captain.
“Uncle Josiah!” exclaimed the girl, her eyes growing wide in her earnestness. “I know Father has not treated Mr. McGowan one bit nicely since what happened at our142house, and I don’t know why. There must be some reason, though, for Father would not harm any one without just reasons. He is the best man in the whole world! But he has had his way so long with all the other ministers that he cannot become accustomed to the way Mr. McGowan ignores him. Father does a lot of good, and Mr. McGowan dare not think ill of him!”
“There, there, Beth,” soothed the Captain. “You’re trying to tell me something, but you’re getting off the course. Just you tell me calm-like what it’s all about. The fust thing to do is to get our bearings. Has some one been telling you that Mr. McGowan thinks and talks about your dad in the way you say?”
“No-o. But I’ve heard others say that Father knew all about the plans for that fight before it happened, and that he could have stopped it had he wished to. It isn’t true! And if Mr. McGowan even thinks it’s true he isn’t fair. He will misjudge Father if he has the least idea that he would stoop to such a frame-up.”
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“I cal’late he ain’t misjudging your father none, Beth. So far as disobeying orders goes, it’s because he knows what’s best. He ain’t likely to go contrary, unless–––”
“But I know he does misjudge Father,” broke in the girl in an attempt to return to her former subject. “And Father feels it keenly. If he doesn’t misjudge him, why doesn’t he come to our house any more to ask advice about parish matters? He just goes ahead to suit himself. Do you think that fair?”
Captain Pott wanted to say no, in order to agree with his young friend, but her big blue eyes were too intent with eagerness to permit of anything but the truth, or to hedge. He chose the easiest way and hedged.
“I ain’t in no position to answer that, Beth.”
“Oh, I can’t understand it at all! Why can’t they be friends as they were at first? What has happened?”
“I can’t answer that, neither.”
“It’s just because Father has refused to bow to him in some little matter, I suppose.144Isn’t there some way to get them together or at least to get them to compromise?”
“I’m ’feared it ain’t in neither of ’em to do either one.”
“I suppose not,” she replied, a little catch in her voice. “But it is too bad to have the work go to pieces like it is just because they are both so stubborn.”
“It sartin is, Beth.” The seaman fidgeted. What could the girl be driving at?
“But I’m in sympathy with my father!” she cried.
“That’s right for you, Beth. I’d think less of you if you felt any other way.”
“If only Mr. McGowan would go to him!”
“Let’s see if I get the hull drift of your argument. You say that you think your father is right, and the minister is wrong. That being your conviction you think the minister otter go to him and do a little apologizing. Well, he won’t. What he’s done is just as right to him as what your father thinks he’d otter done is right to your dad. To try to get ’em together would be like trying to mix ’ile145and water, both of ’em good enough in their place, but when you try to mix ’em what you get ain’t one nor t’other, and sp’iles both. Cal’late we’d best leave ’em as they are.”
“I didn’t mean that Mr. McGowan should go to Father and apologize. That would be too much like all of the others before him. But I did think you might suggest some other way to bring them together before things get worse.”
“Beth, I’d like to accommodate you, if that’s what you’re asking of me, but if Mack McGowan had chosen any other way than the one he took, I’d cut him adrift, sartin as death.”
The seaman felt the girl at his side stiffen and tremble against his arm as she turned from him. Despair seized him.
“Forgive me, Beth, for making you cry like that. I ain’t nothing but a rough old sailor, and can’t say things as they’d otter be said. Come, it ain’t wuth crying over. What I meant was that I’d have disowned him, because I’d have known he was going contrary-wise to what he thought was right.”
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She trembled more violently than before. Too miserable for words, he seized her and turned her about. He was amazed to find no tears in her eyes.
“I wasn’t crying,” she choked, drawing the corner of her handkerchief from her mouth. “It struck me so funny, Uncle Josiah!”
“Your notion of fun is the funniest I ever see,” he commented. “Mind telling me what it was that tickled you so?”
“You! Captain Josiah Pott! Threatening to disown the minister should he fail to toe your chalk-line! Where, may I ask, can one find a more high-handed tyranny of spurned authority than that? It’s too funny for words!”
“I cal’late you’d do some disowning, too, if he’d go traipsing round asking everybody’s pardon just because he steps on a few toes now and again.”
“I disown him?” she asked, not able to check the rush of color to her cheeks. “Pray tell! Why–––”
“Now, see here, Beth, there ain’t no use of your pretending to me.”––Page 146.
“Now, see here, Beth, there ain’t no use of your pretending to me.”––Page 146.
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“Now, see here, Beth, there ain’t no use of your pretending to me. I’ve got a pair of eyes, and I make use of ’em. You wouldn’t want him a mite different, and if he was, you’d be as disapp’inted as me. I know what I’m talking about,” he declared, holding up his pipe with a convincing gesture. “All that he’s done is as religious to him as preaching a sermon, even that fight down to the Inn. It was a heap sight more religious than a lot of sermons I’ve listened to in my day.”
“But, Uncle Josiah, don’t you think his methods are a little too strenuous and out of the ordinary in dealing with spiritual derelicts?” she asked, trying hard to hide the pride which the Captain’s observation had wakened.
“I ain’t got much of an idea what you mean by spiritual derricks, Beth, but I’m going to say this: he’s the fust real live preacher I ever see, and if he’s got ways of bringing ’em in that’s a mite off the set course, he’s going to do it, and there ain’t enough men living to stop him. He has found some of that queer sort of religion what he called anonymous down there to that Inn, and if he’d have taken water the other night he’d have lost every one of them boys. He fought that puncher because148he was after the gang behind him. If things had gone against him, I’d have pitched in and helped him trounce the hull enduring lot, and I’d have felt mighty religious while I was doing it, too.”
“But I think he might prove just as much a success and still not be so original. It doesn’t pay when one’s position and salary depend on how one acts.”
“Mack’s position and salary can hang from the same gallows, so far as he’s concerned, if they go to putting muzzles on him.”
“I’m so glad you said that!” exclaimed the girl, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.
The seaman stared at her. What on earth could she mean? “Beth, you’ve sartin got me gasping to understand you this morning.”
“I’m trying so hard to explain without actually telling you. He must leave the church!”
“Must leave–––Say, what in tarnation do you mean?”
“Please, don’t hint that I told you, but it has been decided by the vestry.”
“I want to know!”
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“It isn’t to be on account of the fight, though. Oh, I was real bad and listened,” she explained to the surprised seaman. “I didn’t mean to at first, but I couldn’t help hearing. Then, I had to listen to the rest. I shall tell Father what I have done just as soon as I can, for I know it was wicked of me. I felt I must come to you. They are going to find something in his sermons that isn’t orthodox, and then, there is to be a church trial! That was what I didn’t want to tell you for fear you wouldn’t understand, but you didn’t suggest anything for me to do, and I had to tell you. Can’t you get Mr. McGowan to be careful what he puts in his sermons?”
“Am I to tell him whose orders they be?”
“Indeed, not!”
“A heap of good it will do, then, for me to say anything. He’d take it as a banter for a fight. Cal’late we’ll have to trust to luck that he’ll stick to the old chart.”
Elizabeth slid from the roof of the cabin to the deck. She walked to the railing and looked over into the water. The Captain, thinking she was ready to go ashore, followed.150She swung about, and stamped her foot, angrily.
“Why don’t you men know how to act! Why doesn’t he know how to behave himself!”
She turned back and looked out across the Sound. The mainland showed dim through the haze of the Indian Summer morning.
“Beth, I hate to see you worrying like this,” said the Captain, a tremor in his voice. “I wish I could help you, I sartin wish I could.”
She came to him, and laying her hand lightly on his sleeve, looked eagerly into his eyes.
“You dear old Uncle! Please, forgive me for telling you all I have. I am worried, dreadfully worried, about Father. He is so different of late. He takes everything so seriously where Mr. McGowan is concerned. He is not at all like himself. I’m afraid something dreadful will happen to him if things do not right themselves very soon.”
“Now, don’t you worry, Beth. Just you151be patient. I cal’late there is something wrong, but there ain’t no channel so long that it ain’t got an outlet of some sort, and the rougher ’tis, the shorter it’s li’ble to be. We’re going to get out, you bank on that, and when we do, your daddy is going to be aboard.”
“Thank you, Uncle Josiah. I’m ready now to go ashore.”
The look of relief on her beautiful face, as the tears of gratitude filled her eyes, caused the Captain to swallow very hard, and to draw the back of his hand across his eyes, remarking that the smoke was getting into them. He was unmindful that his pipe had gone out long ago.
On his way home the skipper became uncomfortably aware of the seriousness of his promise to the Elder’s daughter. He had pledged himself and his support indirectly to Jim Fox! What that might mean he could not foresee. He remembered what Elizabeth had told him concerning her father’s condition, and this set a new train of thought going through his brain. He recalled that there152had always been times since Jim Fox had first come to Little River when he had seemed dejected and melancholy. Could it be possible that there had been some physical disease working all these years in the Elder’s body, and might that not be an explanation for the mental state into which he seemed to be heading? Might that not be the reason for his strange actions against the minister and himself?
Captain Pott entered the dining-room just as Miss Pipkin emerged from the minister’s study. She was carrying a large crock. The seaman looked intently at the bowl.
“There was a mite too much pepper in that basin, Josiah. I was that excited about his ankle that I didn’t notice how much I was putting in. It’ll soon be better, now, for I was bathing it in this cream that Mrs. Beaver give me.”
“Bathing his foot in––what?”
“Cream. It takes the soreness out.”
“Clemmie, you’re a wonder! But if that cream come from Eadie’s I cal’late it won’t be none too healing.”
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“I’ve been talking to the minister about the services,” she said, placing the crock on the table. “The Ladies’ Aid meets this afternoon. I’m going.”
“You’d best get a life-preserver on.”
“Josiah, you shouldn’t talk like that. They do a lot of good. I ain’t been to one for years. It’s so Christian and nice to do things for others. That’s what Aid means, aiding some one else.”
“If I ain’t ’way off, most of the aiding business runs to the tongues of them present. Most women lean to tongue, excepting you, Clemmie.”
“Josiah, you ain’t fit for the minister to live with! You shouldn’t talk like that about the business of the Lord.”
“Cal’late I am sort of a heathen. But I’ll wager that you’ll find them there aiders interested in some things aside the business of the Lord.”
Miss Pipkin left him and hurried into the kitchen for broom and duster.
It was late in the afternoon when she had finished her house-cleaning, and sailed forth154in the direction of the church. The Captain was sitting on the front steps of the chapel, and rose to meet her as she turned in at the gate.
“I hope the meeting ain’t over,” she said, breathless.
“Just got her off the ways, I’d say,” he commented, jerking his head toward an open window through which came the sound of many voices. “You’d best tell ’em where you’re staying, Clemmie, or you’re li’ble to hear some things not intended for your ears.”
She bridled past him and swept into the church. There was a brief pause in the buzz, but the hubbub that followed was doubled in intensity.
That evening while Miss Pipkin was placing the food on the table she appeared worried. She inquired solicitously concerning the minister’s ankle, but there was a distant polite tone in her voice. After supper she asked the Captain to dry the dishes for her, and went to the kitchen. The seaman took his place at the sink only to have the cloth snatched from his hand.
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“Josiah,”––she whispered,––“close that door to the dining-room, I’ve got something to ask you.”
“Ain’t you going to let me dry them dishes for you?”
“Of course not.”
The door was closed, and the Captain came back to the sink.
“What’s wrong with Mr. McGowan?”
“Too much red pepper, I cal’late.”
“Don’t be silly. You know what I mean. There is something awfully wrong. I can’t help noticing it.”
“What makes you think that, Clemmie?”
“What I heard this afternoon.... And, you know, the most of ’em knew me, but none excepting Mrs. Beaver knew where I was staying, and she didn’t tell. She come over and set down by me, different from what she used to be, quiet and real refined.”
“Eadie Beaver quiet, you say? Well, I cal’late the million is coming, sartin sure.”
“Millennium or no millennium, that’s the truth. I was kind of ’feared at first that she wasn’t real well.”
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“She’d be a real cur’osity in this here new state of hers,” mused the Captain.
“Well, I begun to hear things about him,”––she pointed toward the closed door,––“and Mrs. Beaver was that indignant that she didn’t know what to do. From all I heard, it seems the minister has been doing things he has no right to do, fighting and the like. Then, too,”––came in an awed tone,––“he ain’t orthodox. He’s preaching all sorts of new-fangled ideas that he shouldn’t mention in the pulpit, and though you don’t know it, Josiah, that is hairsay! That is worse than killing a man, because it sends their souls to hell.”
“If I was you, Clemmie, I’d wait and judge his preaching for myself. You ain’t heard him yet.”
Miss Pipkin agreed to the fairness of the Captain’s proposition, but she was still troubled.
“Josiah, there’s going to be some sort of meeting next Sunday night after the regular service, and there is going to be something done to get Mr. McGowan out of his church.157Of course, if he ain’t orthodox, I’d hate to see the meeting interfered with, but–––”
“Clemmie, I ain’t up on this hairsay and orthodox stuff, and I ain’t sartin I want to be. It all sounds like mighty dry picking to me. But I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided that whatever them things are they ain’t real religion. And I’ve decided that the Lord ain’t been sitting in on them church meetings for quite a spell. I cal’late I’ll be on hand next Sunday night with a special invitation for Him to cut the pack for this new deal.”
Miss Pipkin looked as though she expected him to be struck dead. But he was not. This fact decided her in favor of being present to witness the thing which the Captain intended to do.
158CHAPTER VIII
On Sunday evening the chapel was packed. It was evident that many were there, not for the service, but for what promised to be a sensational after-meeting. Members of the Athletic Club were scattered through the room, and the same dogged determination was on their faces as on the night of the boxing affair.
Mr. McGowan hobbled up the pulpit stair. He announced his text: “Launch out into the deep and let down your nets.” Captain Pott felt Elizabeth, who was sitting beside him, stiffen. Miss Pipkin leaned forward in her eagerness to catch every word, and as the minister proceeded her expression changed from perplexity and doubt to one of deep respect. There were others who followed the thought of the sermon with keen interest. Elder Fox was present, for the first time in weeks. Occasionally,159he would write something on a pad, and then lean back to pull at his silky chops.
Throughout the sermon Mr. McGowan spoke with tense earnestness.
“The time has come when the church must cut theshore linesthat have been binding us to the past. If a man persists in dragging the shore line he may get a few good fish, but that does not set aside the fact that he is either a poor fisherman or a coward. He must know the habits of the fish, and go where they are.... The same thing may be said of the church. We may produce a few fair Christians by dragging shore lines of church doctrine, but our success will be due more to luck than to a knowledge of the working of God’s laws.... We have been long-shore Christians for a good many centuries; the day has come for us to break away from the surf of man-made ideas, and launch out till we can feel the swell of a boundless love, a love not confined to the letter of denominational law or creed. We must get into us the spirit of Christianity. We must recognize the fact that the spirit is not a thing that we160can confine to sand-lined beaches of narrow conceptions of faith and salvation that now exist in our churches....
“Here in Little River we have been an excellent example of what I mean. We have been admiring ourselves,––and not without just cause,––while the world we ought to be serving is forced to take its stand on the outside, ofttimes with ideals greater than our own.... We have substituted doctrine for Christianity, the letter of the law for the spirit of freedom. We have slavishly worshipped our beliefs about God, instead of worshipping God.... And what is the result? We have shut our doors to many who hold a greater faith than our own; or we have forced them out with no faith because of our own selfish religious intoxication. Of this very thing, this church has been guilty....
“We must admit blame for many conditions that exist in our town. Let us purge ourselves before we seek to cleanse others. Let us first launch out before we call to others to follow. Let us learn the laws by which161God works, and then shall we have no trouble to fill our nets.”
After Mr. McGowan had finished, he stood looking out over his congregation. The Captain whispered to Elizabeth, “Ain’t he the finest-looking specimen of human natur’ you ever see, six foot of him standing up there reading the riot act to ’em! And I got all he said, too. I cal’late there’s some here to-night that feel like they’d been overhauled and set adrift.”
Without announcing the usual closing hymn, Mr. McGowan very quietly pronounced the benediction, and left the church by the rear door.
The only move that followed his leaving was made by the members of the Athletic Club. They filed out one by one, but reconvened beneath the window where the Captain sat inside. Captain Pott was plainly nervous when Mr. Fox rose and went forward. He opened the window slightly as though in need of fresh air.
The Elder clapped loudly for order, and the boys beneath the Captain’s window joined162in so heartily that the Elder was forced to shout for order.
“This meeting has been called for the members of this church,only!” he shouted. “Will those who are not members in regular standing adjourn to the rooms below to complete their visiting?”
Few heard, none obeyed. Instead, all began to take seats as near the front as possible. Mr. Fox grew red in the face, and dark of countenance. But he preserved his dignity.
“Must I repeat that this meeting has been called for the members of the church. Will the others kindly leave us to ourselves?”
It became evident that there was no intention on the part of any to leave the room, and so the Elder called the mixed crowd to order.
The first half-hour proved so tame that some who had remained to see trouble, got up and went home. At last Mr. Beaver rose, and the audience caught its breath. He poised himself on one foot, and began to pump, blink, whistle, and finally to stutter.
“M-M-Mr. Ch-ch-ch-chairman!” he called in a high excited voice.
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Elder Fox declared that Mr. Beaver had the floor, and Mr. Beaver proceeded to take it, at least a good part of the section round which he was hopping. People moved back and gave him room, for he needed plenty of space in which to make himself understood.
“The p-p-parish c-committee h-h-has d-decided that M-Mr. McGowan is not the m-m-man for our ch-ch-church. Elder F-F-Fox has the report of the c-c-committee. I m-m-move we h-h-h-hear him now!”
Mr. Fox mounted the platform and came forward to the edge. He looked into the faces of those before him with deep sadness in his own.
“Friends, this is one of the saddest moments of my life,” he began, his voice shaking with feeling. “Some––er––have come to love our young brother who has been called to our church. And he has many very estimable qualities. For that reason I feel very keenly what I am about to say. The committee feels that Mr. McGowan holds ideas that are too far advanced for our humble little church. We must not overlook the fact that we hold164sacred some of the things to which he flippantly referred to-night, and it is our duty to protect––er––the sacred doctrines which have been handed down to us from the more sacred memory of our fathers and martyrs of the past.
“Our minister does not believe in the divine inspiration of the Bible. The question was put to him by one of the members of this committee, and he replied––er––that even if every jot and tittle were personally dictated by God––which he doubted––the Bible would remain a sealed book unless it inspired those who read it. It is evident from this answer that he does not believe in––er––our sacred doctrine of the verbal inspiration of Scripture.
“You have heard him to-night, asking us––er––in the common slang of the dock to rid ourselves of all these doctrines on which the church has been founded. What he said proves that he does not believe in the fundamentals of Christian faith.
“I need not go back of this sermon so fresh in our minds to prove to your intelligence that Mr. McGowan is not orthodox. I could call165to your attention many unfortunate statements, but I feel that it is not necessary. Your committee has gone over every detail––er––prayerfully and thoughtfully. Truly, it gives me a pain–––”
“Get a bottle of Watkins’ Relief!” piped a shrill voice through the partially opened window.
Taken by surprise, and with his mouth open, the Elder lost every expression of dignity as he gazed in the direction whence the advice had come. Before he could again gather up the threads of his closing remarks several men were demanding the floor. The Elder scanned the faces of all, in order to place friend and foe. He then fixed his glance on some one at the rear of the room. In answer to the Elder’s nod a heavy basso pealed forth.
Every head turned about, and as the buzz of comment broke from the astonished crowd the Elder rapped for order. The Reverend Mr. Means of New York City moved ponderously forward.
The faces of the sympathetic ones in the audience166became exceedingly serious as each looked into the face of the city clergyman. Certainly, this meeting must be of tremendous importance to lead so great a man to leave his metropolitan pulpit to attend a gathering in so small a church.
“We must have better order!” cried Mr. Fox, smiling a welcome to the visiting minister. “We have the unexpected pleasure of a visit from––er––our much-loved friend and brother. Shall we dispense with the business of the hour and hear what the Reverend Mr. Means may have on his heart?”
Mr. Means took his position near the moderator. With a long sympathetic look he searched the invisible among the shadows of the ceiling. He was calm, too calm, thought the Captain. He drew his frock coat about him, and plunged the fingers of his right hand in between the two buttons over his heart. That attitude, as of one weary with the struggles of men and yet tolerant because of long-suffering kindness, had an immediate effect on part of the audience. From somewhere near the center of the room applause started, and167soon swelled to a moderate ovation. He acknowledged the respect shown him by bringing his eyes down to the level of his audience.
“Brethren,”––his voice trembled as he began to speak,––“I have no special message for you to-night; my heart is too sore from the things I have just seen and heard. I have been in the rear of this room during your entire service. I have listened to the unfortunate sermon which your bright young minister was so unwise as to preach. I do not marvel that you are like a flock of sheep having no shepherd; that sermon was enough to confuse even me, and I have been in the ministry a great many years. I feel I must say something, but I earnestly pray that it may not influence you in this matter which is yours to decide. I do not intend to even suggest what action you ought to take on the report of your parish committee. You must remember that what you do to-night may affect the future of our young brother, and you must not wreck that future. Mr. McGowan and I do not agree on matters of theology, but that fact does not prevent me from admiring some of168his fine qualities to which your senior Elder referred to-night. Time may cool the ardor of his youth into sane and safe ideas.
“But,”––he lifted his hands toward heaven and his voice toward the people,––“what your parish committee chairman has told you in his report is true, only too true. We cannot afford to permit our churches to suffer from such teachings as those given you to-night, and I dare say, which have been given you many times past. Brethren, as great as is our love for this young minister, it is as nothing in comparison with the devotion that should be ours where the doctrines of our church are concerned. I opposed the ordination of Mr. McGowan in the New York Presbytery a year ago on the ground that he was not sound in doctrine, but when my brethren passed him over my protest I acquiesced as a Christian must always do when the voice of the majority speaks. But I must say that I greatly deplored the action taken at that time. Not that I hold any personal feelings against the young man, but because I am opposed to unorthodox men being called to our pulpits.
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“Now, brethren, I should gladly waive all this,” he continued, dropping his voice to a soothing whisper, “but theological differences are not all that stand between the young man and a faithful church. You’ve heard him suggest that the church which should be the house of God, and which Scripture calls the house of prayer, be turned into a playhouse for the community. I cannot imagine any man with a passion to save souls holding to an idea that he can accomplish this by desecrating the place of Divine Worship by turning it into a gymnasium. The only explanation possible is that Mr. McGowan has not been reared under the influences of our best families. Not that this is anything against his character, but fact is fact.”
The room became quiet with interest in anticipation of what might follow. It was true that their minister had come to them as an unknown man, and they were certainly entitled to any disclosure of his past that the city man might wish to give. But there was nothing more said on the subject, and a murmur of disapproval ran over the audience.
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“I have finished, except to say that I honor your Elder for the firm stand he has taken. Mr. Fox, you are to be congratulated on your courage, and although I repeat that I would not think of influencing the action of this assembly, I hope that every man and woman present may see fit to support you.”
Captain Pott had grown more and more restless as time went on, and now as the city minister began to move from the platform the Captain began to move toward the open window.
“I am ready to entertain any motion which you care to make,” announced the chairman.
Mr. Beaver rose. With the first hiss from his lips, the Captain dropped his hand over the sill and tapped the outside of the casing. Shouts went up from the boys who stood beneath the window. These were answered by cries of fire from various parts of town. The clang of the gong at the fire-house broke through the stillness of the crowded room. Distant alarms were rung with steady171regularity. The meeting adjourned in a body.
The seaman had kept his promise, and “Providence had cut the pack for the new deal.”
172CHAPTER IX
In an incredibly short time the church was emptied. Each one in the crowd was shouting wild conjectures as to whose place was on fire as they ran in the direction of the blaze. It was a strange sight that met the gaze of the excited people as they came in full view of Dan Trelaw’s place. He was busily engaged pouring oil on unburned sections of his hen-coops! Dan’s hen-houses were located at the rear of his property, and had been built from a collection of dry-goods boxes. They had been the pride of his life, and as the crowd watched him pour on more oil, some one declared that Dan must have gone out of his senses. Nor would he permit the fire company to play their chemical hose.
“It’s come to a purty pass,” Dan stated to the onlookers, “when a man can’t burn down his own coops to get rid of the mites without the whole blame town turning out to interfere. If the very last one of you don’t clear out, I’ll173use my office as constable of this town to run the lot of you in!”
Hank Simpson was the chief of the volunteer corps, and Dan was chief of the Little River police system. The two chiefs argued as to the rights of the respective offices. Hank declared it was his official duty to put the fire out. Dan as emphatically declared it was his official duty to disperse the crowd. Finally, Hank admitted that Dan had a right to burn his own property so long as the property of others was not endangered. Some say that the chief of police answered the chief of the fire corps with a slow and deliberate wink.
“Now, all of you clear out and leave me to my fire,” demanded Dan, as he poured on more oil.
Mr. McGowan had gone directly home after the preaching service. But he did not sleep that night. It was very early on Monday morning when he entered the kitchen. Miss Pipkin was already busy with the preparations for breakfast.
“Good morning, Mr. McGowan,” greeted174Miss Pipkin, cheerily. “Are you all right this morning?”
“Yes, thank you, Miss Pipkin.”
“I was afraid you’d be sick after last night. I didn’t sleep none, I was that excited when I got home. I’ve always been used to quiet meetings, and that last night after you left was a disgrace. But you wasn’t to blame, no siree!” she finished with a vigorous shake of her head.
“I am not so sure that you would find very many to agree with you.”
“Lan’ sakes! How you do talk, Mr. McGowan! Don’t you think I know what it’s all about? I ain’t blind, and what I couldn’t see through, Josiah helped me with last night. You’ve got him to thank that they didn’t vote you out of your position.”
“Miss Pipkin, do you mean that the Captain spoke up in meeting?”
“Well, he didn’t exactly talk, but he stopped others from talking, and that’s about the same thing.”
“How?” asked the minister eagerly.
“He kind of made me promise not to tell a175soul, but I don’t think he meant you. Anyhow, you should know. You see, he was setting by a window, and some of the boys from your club was on the outside, waiting. He h’isted the window a little so’s to get his hand through. Hank Simpson and some others was at the fire-house, and when Josiah give them beneath the window some sort of signal, they all shouted ‘Fire.’ That was the sign for others scattered round town, and they begun to shout, too. Then, those at the fire-house got the cart out and rung the bells. It was real funny, but don’t tell Josiah I said so, because he was all puffed up last night. He gave his signal just as Mr. Beaver got up to make a motion to have you put out. Things was pretty strong against you after Reverend Mr. Means spoke.”
“Mr. Means!”
“Um-hm. He was there as big as life and sad as Job. He talked so tearful-like that everybody was upset, but they didn’t get to take a vote, and that was a good thing, for there were some there that would have voted against you, being so worked up, who176wouldn’t think of it in their right senses. Mr. McGowan, them boys down to the Inn ain’t going to let you go from the town if they can keep you here. Them boys with Josiah got up that fire scare last night.”
“But it was more than a scare, I saw the fire.”
“Course you did. ’Twas old Dan Trelaw’s hen-house that was burned down. The mites was bothering him, and he wanted the insurance to build a better one.”
“He burned his hen-house to collect insurance?”
“That’s what Josiah said.”
“That’s absurd. There isn’t an insurance company in Suffolk County that would write a policy on such junk, and if they did he could never collect a cent if it is known he burned it on purpose.”
“Josiah said it wasn’t a regular company, just local. I guess he’ll get his money, all right. Are you ready for your breakfast?”
A boyish grin slowly lighted the minister’s face as the truth of what had happened dawned on him.