I know, and tell him I think he was in the right
in a little disagreement we had a good while ago. I've always been
positive he was wrong. I suppose the facts in the case haven't
changed--" he smiled into the dim blue eyes-- "but somehow I seem to see
them differently. It doesn't look to me worth while to let them stand
between us any longer."

"Ah, it's not worth while," agreed the old man quickly. "It's not worth
while for any of us to be hard on one another, no matter what the facts.
Life is pretty difficult, at its best--we can't afford to make it more
difficult for any human soul. Go back to town and make it right with
your friend, Mr. Burnett. I take it he was your friend, or you wouldn't
think of him to-night."

"Was--and is!" declared Sam, with conviction. "He's got to be, whether
he wants to or not. But he'll want to--I know that well enough. We've
been friends from boyhood--we'd just forgotten it, that's all."

There was a little pause. The old man sat with his white head leaning
against the high back of his chair, his face upturned, his eyes--with
an appeal in them--resting first upon the face of Asa Fraser, then upon
that of George Tomlinson. With a common impulse, William Sewall and
Samuel Burnett moved aside together, turning their backs upon the three.

Asa Fraser lifted his eyes and met those of George Tomlinson. With a
palpable effort--for he was a man of few words--he spoke.

"George," said he, "I guess I made a mistake, thinking as I did."

"Asey," responded Tomlinson quickly, "I guess you weren't the only one
that's made a mistake." And he held out his hand.

Fraser grasped it. With his other hand he raised his handkerchief and
blew his nose once more, violently--and finally. From this point the
smile in his eyes usurped the place of the moisture which had bothered
him so unwontedly, and put it quite to rout.

If you imagine that this little drama had escaped the attention of the
departing congregation, headed the other way, you are much mistaken. The
congregation was not headed the other way. From the moment when Burnett,
Fraser and Tomlinson had started toward the pulpit, the congregation, to
a man, had paused, and was staring directly toward them. It continued to
stare, up to the moment when the handshaking took place. But then--eyes
turned and met other eyes. Hearts beat fast, lips trembled, feet moved.
Unquestionably something had happened to the people of North Estabrook.

Do you know