in-law of the culprit and his nearest neighbour. The brethren leaned forward eagerly to hear him.

"It kinder seems to me," he said, "'s ef we war spendin' more gab 'n the thing 's wuth. He's kep' this Papist fur nigh half a year, an' we 've all seen him. Ef he hain' hurt nobody up to this time, it's good luck, an' 't ain't no sign he wont. We don't want him, an' we hain't goin' to hev him at large. I don't know how we 're goin' to get rid on him, but we 're goin' to, an' it stan's to reason thet the fust thing to du is to punish the man thet brought him here. Thet 's what we 've got in han' jest now, an' the man thet wants to wait till Joe Ashgrave's hed a chance to say so'thin', would ax you to stop fur prars afore you killed a mad dog. Let's turn Ashgrave out 'n the church. Thet 'll be one good job done. Then we 'll see what we 'll du about this here Papist, and thet 'll be another good job done. If thar's anybody thet wants a trial o' the critter, there'll be plenty o' time a'terward. Jest now, we 've got so'thin' to du. Let 's du it."

"I'm goin' to vote fur turnin' him out," Singleton declared in reply," an' thar hain't nothin' he nor nobody else kin say that 'll stop me. He's ben a tradin' for months over to Belmont, an' sech carryin's on an' this thing o' keepin' Papists on his farm an' goin' to mass hes got to be stopped. But I want the thing done in order an' in due regard for the proper an' judicious sequence of events. Ef Judge Bascom saw a man steal a hundred dollars, he could n't put him in jail fur doin' it, till he 'd tried him. He'd know all the time he war goin' to send him thar, but he 'd know tu thet he was goin' to do it accordin' to the constitutional paraphenalia's own system of jurisdiction. Thet's all I want an' thet 's what I 'm going to stick fur.”

"How air you goin' to know it when you see it?" demanded Blanket.

"The brother must not interrupt," the chairmanclergyman declared.

"I'm a official o' the United States Gov'ment," Singleton declared with disgust, "an' I would be violatin' of my oath to s'port the Constitution of the United States ef I permitted this denial of the sacred right o' harcus carkus to go without my protest. I'm sartain he 's guilty, an' nothin' thet kin be said 'll change me; but I must hear the evidence.”

"Get thet some other time," said Blanket. "Let's vote now. We're a burnin' daylight."

With the exception of Singleton, the vote was unanimous, and Ashgrave ceased to be a member of Padanaram Church. The thing which, a few months before, had startled him as a mere threat, thus became a fact, and the greatest disgrace that could be inflicted upon him, in the estimation of the community in which he lived, had come upon him. As the meeting broke up, many felt a weight of responsibility as of men who had pronounced sentence of spiritual death upon a fellow being. By the vote, Ashgrave had been cut off from their church membership and had become as a heathen and a stranger.

Other passions, however, had been stirred in the hearts of some the passion of the beast that has tasted blood and thirsts for more. Blanket, who knew somewhat of the community in which he lived, scented trouble and made free to warn the clergyman. Craig scouted the idea. While Ashgrave had brought the Papist among them, aside from excommunication, spiritual punishment was all he had contemplated, and of this excommunication was simply the external sign and evidence.

"You kin start a fire an' mean tu stop with bresh, but thet hain't goin' to save the woods when it catches 'em." "What do you mean?" Craig demanded impatiently. "I d' no. Ef I did, I would n't be half so scart." "I've got no time to be frightened at shadows," retorted the clergyman, turning away.

"T ain't the shadders," said Blanket, "but what makes 'em that I'm afeared of."

CHAPTER XXXVI

WHEN

AMANDA AND BARNABY

HEN Blanket drove up to the platform of the Junction station on the Wednesday morning succeeding the great sermon, there stood Barnaby, with the eager look of a boy on a vacation lighting his face. Slowly and in snatches the news of his having been found, and of his restoration to health, had come to Padanaram, but even that did not quite prepare Blanket for sight of the man himself, alive and, seemingly, as well as ever. Before Blanket could find his tongue, Barnaby called out:

"Is she the Widow Marlow still, Blanket, or has she consented?"

"She's a waitin'," answered Blanket, "fur leap-year." "I'm ashamed of you, positively ashamed," said Barnaby, as he came forward and shook hands warmly with the stage driver. "It's almost a year, to my certain knowledge, that you 've been talking of this thing."

"Wall," explained Blanket, "s 'long's I du nothin' but talk, I've got things in my own han's. I sorter like the taste of freed'm."

"Chut! Chut! Chut! That's just what I'm ashamed of. I thought there was one man in Padanaram who could pay the price of loving."

There was something in the tone, light as it was, in which Barnaby spoke, that attracted even Blanket. It was only an attraction, however, and he come back unflinchingly to the bald facts of life.

"Wall, thar's two kin's of love; one when ye love the woman enough to merry her, an' to'ther when you love her too much to let her merry you. I hain't found out yet which kin' mine is."

"If you want her and she 's willing," said Barnaby, "you'd better take her and let that question settle itself later."

"I'd hate all-fired to hev to pity my wife 'cause she 'd merried me."

"S'pose she'd married another fellow?" demanded Barnaby.

"Then I'd pity myself, an' thet 's kinder soothin' at times."

"Well, I don't want to be soothed at any such price as that," said Barnaby.

"Hain't thar some way you kin hev Ashgrave tuck up?" demanded Blanket, who first of all was after Barnaby's story.

Barnaby took a turn up and down the little platform, as if either he had no answer or did n't like the one he had. When he came back to where Blanket sat with patience equal to his horse's, the expression of his face did not please the stage driver.

"Suppose I did," he said slowly. "That would n't mend matters, and people would say I did it because he had won her."

"S'pose they did?"

"It would n't matter if only I could be certain 't was n't true. But suppose I doubted my own motive?" "Ye hain't got all over yer hurt hev you?" demanded Blanket, eyeing the other anxiously.

Barnaby gave an imitation of his old light laughter, and then stopped short as if, after all, it was not worth while.