flattened his hands with delight, noticing a smile that drew down
the corners of Jones' lips. Long ago the pleasant religious argument of
Ithaca's "Amen" corner had become a thing of the past, because of the
absence of Bill Hopkins. He had been the zest of the crowd.

The Dominie, forgetting his grievance of the supper table, straightened
himself for the combat. He had suddenly conceived a plan whereby he
could gain a friend to aid him in the coming squatter fight. Bill
Hopkins still waited with a quizzical expression in his shaggy-browed
eyes.

"Strange happenings in town for a few days past," said Graves.

"The Skinner case?" asked Bill, rubbing gently the smooth white wart.

"Yes," assented the minister. "What do you think of it all, Bill?"

"The girl's a brick," commented Hopkins--and sank into silence.

"The girl's not being tried for murder," rebuked the minister sharply.

"But she played her part with feelin' and power," was the drawling
reply.

The clergyman saw a flitting expression of triumph in the druggist's
face.

"She'd make a capital actress," ruminated Graves.

He glanced at the rich man to see if he coincided with him, but that
gentleman was looking into the street.

"We all act in this world," excused Bill; "even you ministers use
methods that you have found in elocution to bring your beliefs to bear
upon your congregations."

Graves did not relish being classed with the squatter's child, but he
made no comment upon it. He changed his tactics.

"Bill," said he, "have you altered your ideas about the church?"

"What ideas?"

"Well, about women having the privilege of speaking in meetings."

Bill shook his head, and Graves resumed:

"Well, I'm changing my mind ... I'm going to stop this nonsense."

The rich man sat up and the druggist, scenting a religious rumpus, drew
his stool nearer. Bill coughed loudly.

"Those women," continued Graves, "have had their own way too long ... I
shall put a stop to it immediately."

Bill Hopkins wondered what was coming. It behooved him to wait and see;
so he settled back with his head bowed and his piercing eyes directed
steadily upon the pastor. A dark flush mounted to the minister's face.
He had expected that such condescension to an ex-member would be
received with enthusiasm. As no other of the "Ameners" offered a word,
Graves continued:

"Next thing that we know, the women will be coming into the church with
uncovered heads. I wonder I've