The three visitors had completed their survey of the room now; and Loren
Pierce emitted a dry, harsh little cough, as a signal that business
was about to begin. At this sound, Winch drew up his feet, and Gorringe
untied a parcel of account-books and papers that he held on his knee.
Theron felt that his countenance must be exhibiting to the assembled
brethren an unfortunate sense of helplessness in their hands. He tried
to look more resolute, and forced his lips into a smile.

"Brother Gorringe allus acts as Seckertary," said Erastus Winch, beaming
broadly upon the minister, as if the mere mention of the fact promoted
jollity. "That's it, Brother Gorringe,--take your seat at Brother Ware's
desk. Mind the Dominie's pen don't play tricks on you, an' start off
writin' out sermons instid of figgers." The humorist turned to Theron
as the lawyer walked over to the desk at the window. "I allus have to
caution him about that," he remarked with great joviality. "An' do YOU
look out afterwards, Brother Ware, or else you'll catch that pen o'
yours scribblin' lawyer's lingo in place o' the Word."

Theron felt bound to exhibit a grin in acknowledgment of this
pleasantry. The lawyer's change of position had involved some shifting
of the others' chairs, and the young minister found himself directly
confronted by Brother Pierce's hard and colorless old visage. Its little
eyes were watching him, as through a mask, and under their influence
the smile of politeness fled from his lips. The lawyer on his right, the
cheese-buyer to the left, seemed to recede into distance as he for the
moment returned the gaze of the quarryman. He waited now for him to
speak, as if the others were of no importance.

"We are a plain sort o' folks up in these parts," said Brother Pierce,
after a slight further pause. His voice was as dry and rasping as his
cough, and its intonations were those of authority. "We walk here," he
went on, eying the minister with a sour regard, "in a meek an' humble
spirit, in the straight an' narrow way which leadeth unto life. We ain't
gone traipsin' after strange gods, like some people that call themselves
Methodists in other places. We stick by the Discipline an' the ways of
our fathers in Israel. No new-fangled notions can go down here. Your
wife'd better take them flowers out of her bunnit afore next Sunday."

Silence possessed the room for a few moments, the while Theron,
pale-faced and with brows knit, studied the patte