he stony road
Munn heard the galloping. He had been close to death; he did not quite
know whether Sprowl had meant murder or whether it was carelessness or
his own fault that the horse had not struck him and ground him into the
sod.

However it was, he conceived a new respect for Sprowl, and promised
himself that if he ever was obliged to call again upon Sprowl for
financial assistance he would do it through a telephone.

A dozen women, dressed alike in a rather pretty gray uniform, were
singing up by the house; he looked at them with a sneer, then walked
back along the river to where the young girl still sat under the elm.

"I want to talk to you," he said, abruptly, "and I don't want any more
refusals or reasons or sentiments. I want to see the papers in that
steel box."

She turned towards him in that quaint, hesitating, listening attitude.

"The Lord," he said, more cheerfully, "has put it into my head that we
must journey once more. I've had a prayerful wrestle out yonder, and I
see light. The Lord tells me to sell this land to the strangers without
the gates, and I'm going to sell it to the glory of God."

"How can you sell it?" said the girl, quietly.

"Isn't all our holdings in common?" demanded Munn, sharply.

"You know that I am not one of you," said the girl.

"Yes, you are," said Munn; "you don't want to be because the light has
been denied you, but I've sealed you and sanctified you to the Shining
Band, and you just can't help being one of us. Besides," he continued,
with an ugly smile, "I'm your legal guardian."

This was a lie; but she did not know it.

"So I want to see those papers," he added.

"Why?" she asked.

"Oh, legal matters; I've got to examine 'em or I can't sell this land."

"Father told me not to open the box until ... I found an ... honest
man," she said, steadily.

Munn glared at her. She had caught him in a lie years ago; she never
forgot it.

"Where's the key?" he demanded.

She was silent.

"I'll give you till supper-time to find that key," said Munn,
confidently, and walked on towards the house.

But before he had fairly emerged from the shadow of the elm he met
Lansing face to face, and the young man halted him with a pleasant
greeting, asking if he were not the Reverend Doctor Munn.

"That's my name," said Munn, briefly.

"I was looking for Mr. Sprowl; I thought to meet him here; we were to
speak to you about the netting of trout in the river," said Lansing,