tary fashion which, as patristic literature teaches, was
adopted by the early Christians, and turning square corners as was the
habit of St. Paul and the Apostles, received whispered passwords from
the two or three strangers, and, with a military salute, announced that
all present had been put to the test and welcomed. Then, for the first
time remembering that he was not among the strangers, so far as known
to the lodge, Amidon breathed freely, and rather regretted the absence
of executions.

"Bring forth the Mystic Symbols of the Order!" was the next command.
The Mystic Symbols were placed on a stand in the middle of the room,
and turned out to be a gilt fish about the size of a four-pound bass, a
jar of human bones, and a rolled-up scroll said to contain the Gospels.
The fish, as explained by the Deacon Militant, typified a great many
things connected with early Christianity, and served always as a
reminder of the password of the order. The relics in the jar were the
bones of martyrs. The scroll was the Book of the Law. Amidon was
becoming impressed: the solemn and ornate ritual and the dreadful
symbols sent shivers down his inexperienced and unfraternal spine.
Breaking in with uninitiated eyes, as he had done, now seemed more and
more a crime.

There was an "Opening Ode" which was so badly sung as to mitigate the
awe; and an "order of business" solemnly gone through. Under the head
"Good of the Order" the visiting brethren spoke as if it were a
class-meeting and they giving "testimony," one of them very volubly
reminding the assembly of the great principles of the order, and the
mighty work it had already accomplished in ameliorating the condition
of a lost and wandering world. Amidon felt that he must have been very
blind in failing to note this work until it was thus forced on his
notice; but he made a mental apology.

"By the way, Brassfield," said Mr. Slater during a recess preceding the
initiation of candidates, "you want to give Stevens the best you've got
in the Catacombs scene. Will you make it just straight ritual, or
throw in some of those specialties of yours?"

"Stevens! Catacombs!" gasped Amidon, "specialties! I----"

"I wish you could have been here when I was put through," went on Mr.
Slater. "I don't see how any one but a professional actor, or a person
with your dramatic gifts, can do that part at all--it's so sort of
ripping and--and intense, you know. I look forward to your renditio