in shocked amazement. He had lived his life
among a prosperous, God-fearing people, where such blasphemous words,
if ever uttered, were never allowed to reach his ears. Nothing aroused
his righteous indignation like a slighting reference to the Master whom
he served, and in his quick resentment he forgot the suffering written
on John McIntyre's face.

"How dare you speak so of your Master?" he demanded hotly.

The man laughed again, and the minister broke forth in stern rebuke.

People said that when Mr. Scott denounced sin there was something of
the fearless candor of the ancient prophets about him. But in this
instance he forgot that the greatest Prophet was always gentle and
tender in the presence of pain. He denounced John McIntyre roundly for
his irreverence, showed him plainly the appalling evil of his ways, and
quoted Scripture to prove that he was hastening to everlasting
perdition.

At the mention of his inevitable destiny John McIntyre interrupted.

"Hell!" he shouted. "I've been there for months already!" As he spoke
he turned swiftly and caught up an old spade lying by the doorstep.
"Get out of my sight!" he hissed fiercely, holding the weapon aloft.
"Leave me, or I'll send you where I'm going! Go!" His voice was
almost beseeching. "Go, before I do you harm!"

The Rev. James Scott was afraid of no living man, but there was a
terrible gleam in John McIntyre's eyes that hinted of insanity. He
looked at him a moment and then, with a motion as though washing his
hands of him, he turned away. The rest of the company had fallen back
from the doorway, and now followed the minister in speechless concern.
They tramped along the old grassy road, followed by the call of the
whip-poor-will from the darkening hillside above, and the lonely cry of
the loon floating across the Drowned Lands. Uncle Hughie was the first
to break the dismayed silence.

"Well! well! well! well! Ech! hech! Hoots! toots!" he ejaculated
incoherently, quite unable to express his feelings.

"Man, ain't he a caution?" whispered Jake Sawyer fearfully.

"Gosh! now there's some truth in what he says," remarked the melancholy
blacksmith in an undertone.

"D'ye think he would be right in his mind, poor body?" asked Uncle
Hughie, searching for some palliation of John McIntyre's outrageous
conduct.

"Mebby he's had notions about the earth spinnin' 'round like a top, an'
they've drove him loony," suggested Spectacle John. "That o