He is a preacher. If he can't
do this, what's he good for?"

And so he argued the matter with himself with great diligence,
and even with considerable heat of mind. He made no pretence to
goodness. He was no saint, nor would he set up for one. All who
knew him knew this, and none better than Kalman.

"I may not be a saint, but I am no hypocrite, neither will I play
the part for any one." In this thought his mind took eager refuge,
and he turned it over in various phrases with increasing satisfaction.
He remembered with some anxiety that Brown's mental processes were
to a degree lacking in subtlety. Brown had a disconcertingly simple
and direct method of dealing with the most complex problems. If a
thing was right, it was right; if wrong, it was wrong, and that
settled the matter with Brown. There was little room for argument,
and none for compromise. "He has a deucedly awkward conscience too,"
said Jack French, "and it is apt to get working long shifts." Would
he show his sister-in-law's letter? It might be good tactics, but
that last page would not help him much, and besides he shrank from
introducing her name into the argument.

As he approached Wakota, he was impatient with himself that he was
so keenly conscious of the need of arguments to support his appeal.
He rode straight to the school, and was surprised to find Brown
sitting there alone, with a shadow on his usually cheery face.

"Hello, Brown!" he cried, as he entered the building, "another
holiday, eh! Seems to me you get more than your share."

"No," said Brown, "it is not holidays at all. It is a breaking up."

"What's the row, epidemic of measles or something?"

"I only wish it were," said Brown; "small-pox would not be too
bad." Brown's good-natured face was smiling, but his tone told
of gloom in his heart.

"What's up, Brown?" asked French.

"I'm blue, I'm depressed, I'm in a funk. It is my constitutional
weakness that I cannot stand--"

"Oh, let it go at that, Brown, and get on with the facts. But
come out into the light. That's the thing that makes me fear that
something has really happened that you are moping here inside.
Nothing wrong in the home I hope, Brown; wife and baby well?"
said French, his tone becoming more kind and gentle.

"No, not a thing, thank God! both fine and fit," said Brown, as
they walked out of the school and down the river path. "My school
has folded itself up, and, like the Arab, has stolen away."

"Go on with