desire to see the end as he wished it to
be--the sentence of yesterday executed against the fisherman without
another trial.

"Young lost his senses to-day, don't you think so, Silas?" he asked.

"Well," drawled Jones, "if Skinner didn't commit willful murder, I'd
hate to see him hang. It wouldn't do any harm as I see to give him
another chance."

"You'll change your mind in church next Sunday," commented the parson.
"I'm going to show every man his duty clear and plain."

He brought down his hand upon his knee with an egotistical slap.

"All folks don't think the same way you do, Dominie," persisted Jones.
"Now then, Bill Hopkins of the toggery shop, he don't believe in women
speakin' in meetin'."

The minister distinctly remembered this. More than once had he taken the
delinquent Bill Hopkins to task for taking his letter to another church,
but Bill could not be induced to return, because the creed had not been
followed by its members, nor enforced by the shepherd of the flock.

Hopkins was the best-read man in the whole county, and his voice went
far when he spoke, but for over a year his place among the "Ameners" had
been vacant--also his pew in Graves' church. The Dominie needed such men
as Bill in his congregation if he would win his fight against the
squatters. These thoughts were prominent in his mind when the door
admitted a great gust of wind--and the famous Bill Hopkins. The parson
caught his breath. Bill spoke a genial good-evening, shook hands around,
and bought a small bottle of witch-hazel, some camphor, and was about to
leave, when Graves ejaculated:

"Sit down, Bill."

Bill sat down, took his hat from his bald head, and placed his fingers
complacently around a smooth white wart on his cranium, and waited.

He looked questioningly at the rich man, and the druggist with the
wide-spread hands. The church subject had been thrashed out long
ago--the women of the congregation gaining the day in spite of the
august presence of some of the deacons, who openly declared that the
female portion of the church was unbecomingly usurping the authority of
the men. Because of this flagrant disobedience of the church's creed,
Bill Hopkins had taken his name from the roll, and was known to have
said that he would not be led by a shepherd who could not order his
flock. To-night he smacked his lips for the coming argument while the
minister, glad to have him among them again, felt his hopes rise higher.

Bates