that air
which a practical man like Britt found an aggravating, teasing pose or
a kind of lunacy with which common sense could not cope. Elias slowly
spread his umbrella. He stood beneath it and declaimed:

"'And Moses and Aaron did all these wonders before Pharaoh; and the
Lord hardened Pharaoh's heart, so that he would not let the children of
Israel go out of his land.'"

"You let me tell you something! There's one man going out of this
land mighty sudden--and he's going to the county jail in charge of a
constable."

When Britt started away that time he kept on going. He went to the
office of Trial-Justice Bowman and swore out a warrant. A constable
served it and the Prophet was haled before the justice. On the evidence
presented, Bowman sentenced a person known as "the Prophet Elias" to
serve sixty days in the county jail. Within an hour after the Prophet's
defiance he was on his way with the constable in a side-bar buggy.

The Prophet had not opened his mouth to give out even one text. He had
not opened his mouth, either, to give his name; the writ designated him
merely by his sobriquet. But there was a queer little wrinkle at each
corner of that closed mouth.

CHAPTER XX

NO STRAW FOR THE BRICKS

Mr. Harnden banged his pulpy fist on the board at which so he had
declared, Tasper Britt was to sit.

"I have ruled a happy home by love in the past. Don't force me to rule
it otherwise now."

He was obliged to lower his eyes to a level at last because his neck
ached. He was forced to turn those eyes in his daughter's direction,
for her gaze was of that compelling quality which causes the object of
regard to return the scrutiny.

"I tell you, I'm not lowering myself by taking in boarders," the father
insisted. "I have become tied up in a business way with my friend Britt.
We need to be in conference right along. They're going to tear down his
house. Shall I let it be said that I left a friend ahungered and without
a roof? Shall--"

"Father, I'm no longer patient enough to listen to any more of that
nonsense," said Vona.

"But it isn't nonsense," put in the mother. "Poor Tasper is left without
a home. Files's vittles have nigh killed him. He was always used to home
cooking. He--"

"Please! Please!" protested the girl, impatiently. "We're three
grown-ups. Let's be honest with one another. I, at least, have been
honest--ever since I declared myself under this roof last winter."

"If you're bound to put