ughly dressed and covered with mud. There was a
two-horse rig from the livery, at the curb. The stranger started for
it; but turned back on seeing the priest.

"I am a stranger here, Father," he said. "I have just come down from
the mountains, where I have been prospecting. I have to drive over to
Caanan to get the fast train. I find that you have no trains here on
Sunday. I hadn't been to Mass for three months, for we have no place
to go out there where I was; so it was a great consolation for me to
drop in and hear a good sermon. And I tell you it _was_ a good
sermon. That was a great appeal you made."

Father Ryan could only murmur, "Thank you. You are not staying very
long with us?"

"No, I can't stay, Father. I have to get to New York and report on
what I found. I have about fourteen miles of mud before me now, and
have driven twenty miles this morning. I don't belong around here at
all. I live in New York; but I may be here a good deal later, and you
are the nearest priest to me. Take this and put it in the collection."

The rough man shoved a note into Father Ryan's hand. By this time they
both had reached the livery rig. A quick "Good-bye" from the visitor,
and a "God bless you" from Father Ryan, ended the conversation.

The priest thrust the note into his pocket and returned to the house.
When he entered the dining-room, Father Fanning was taking breakfast
at the table. Father Barry was occupying himself with a book, which he
found difficulty in reading, on account of the enthusiastic comments
of his friend on Father Ryan's sermon.

"We were talking about you, Ryan," he said. "And there is no need of
telling you what we had to say about you; but there is one thing I
would like to ask. What's wrong with you since we came?"

"Why, nothing," said Father Ryan. "Haven't I treated you better than
you deserve?"

"That is all right, that is all right," interrupted his big neighbor,
"but there _is_ something wrong. You were worried at first. Then you
dropped it, but you started to worry again just as soon as you came
out of the sanctuary. You were at it when we came in and you are at it
now. Come, Ryan, let us know what it is. If it is money, well--"

Father Barry looked up quickly from his book and said: "Surely, it is
not the new church, is it?"

The young pastor sat down in a chair at the table and looked at his
friends, before he spoke. "Well, I never could keep a secret," he
said. "Therefore, I suppose