bance tonight, O Heavenly Father, that the arm of Thy priest is
strong and the soul of Thy servant is resolute. For Jesus Christ's sake,
Amen."

The boom of "Amens" from the back seat was tremendous. Brother Wilkins,
rising after his prayer, looked at the four young men for a long moment,
over his glasses. Then he said:

"Let us sing

'From Greenland's icy mountains
To India's coral strands.'"

This was sung with tremendous vim, and the minister began his sermon.
Jason's father was a good preacher. His vocabulary was rich and his
ideas those of a thinking man whose religion was a passion. But the
young men on the rear seat were unimpressed. One of them snored. Brother
Wilkins stopped his sermon.

"Be silent, ye sons of Satan," he thundered. There was silence and he
took up the thread of his talk. A low cat call interrupted him. The
minister stopped and slipped off his coat, folding it carefully as he
laid it on his desk. It was old and the seams would not stand strain. He
rolled up his cuffs as he descended from the pulpit, the congregation
watching him spell-bound. Jason had seen his father in action before and
was deeply embarrassed but not surprised.

Brother Wilkins strode up to the pew where the offenders sat and seized
by the ear the largest of the group, a hulk of twenty-one or so, larger
than the minister. He led the young man into the aisle and reached up
and boxed his ears, with the sound of impact of a club on an empty
barrel.

"Now leave this house of God," roared the minister. The young fellow
sneaked out the door. Brother Wilkins turned back to the pew.

"Don't you tech me or I'll brain ye," cried the youth who was about
Brother Wilkins' own size.

"Hah!" snorted the minister. There was the sound of blows, a quick
scuffling of feet and the second offender was booted out of the door.
The remaining two made a quick and unassisted exit. Breathing a little
heavily, Brother Wilkins returned to his sermon; and to his hypnotized
and immensely regaled congregation it seemed that the rest of his
preaching was as from one inspired by God.

Jason sat brooding deeply. Something within him revolted at the
spectacle of his father descending from the pulpit to beat recalcitrant
members of his congregation. An old and familiar sense of shame
enveloped him, and he was thankful when once again darkness had
enveloped them and they were traveling rapidly along the mountain road.
They were to have a late