ons and
sentiments. Thus, a new game was swiftly arranged, and some brighter
soul among them christened it the D. I. F. game. The initials were
popularly believed to represent "Done is Fyles," but the enlightened
among the boys understood that they stood for "Damn Idjut Fyles," an
interpretation quite in keeping with the general opinion of the people
of the valley.

Certainly the atmosphere of the village that morning must have been
intolerable to Inspector Fyles, had he permitted himself to dwell upon
the indications, the derisive glances, the quiet laugh of men as he
chanced to pass. But public opinion and feeling were things he had
long since schooled himself to ignore. He was concerned with his
superiors, and his superiors only. At all times they were more than
sufficient to trouble with, and his whole anxiety was turned in their
direction now, in view of his terrible failure of the night before.

Thus he was forced to witness the signs about him, and content himself
with the knowledge that he had been bluffed, while he cast about in
his troubled mind for a means of appeasing his superior's official
wrath.

The church committee was to assemble at Mrs. John Day's house at ten
o'clock, and the hour passed without a shadow of a quorum being
formed. Kate Seton, the honorary secretary, was the only member,
besides the president, who put in an appearance at the appointed hour.

So Mrs. Day thrust on her bonnet, and, with every artificial flower in
its crown shaking with indignation, set out to "round-up" the members.

O'Brien was impossible. His trade was too overwhelming to be left in
the hands of a mere bartender, but there was less excuse for Billy
Unguin and Allan Dy, who were merely drinkers in the place. She
possessed herself of their persons and marched them off, and gathered
up two or three women friends of hers on the way home. Thus, by eleven
o'clock, she had the door of her parlor closed upon a more or less
efficient quorum.

Then she sat her bulk down with a sigh of enforced content. Her florid
face was beaded with perspiration as a result of her efforts.

She turned autocratically to her secretary.

"We'll dispense with the reading of the minutes of the last meeting,"
she declared half-defiantly. "We'll take 'em as read and passed. This
liquor business is driving us all to perdition, as well as wasting our
time, which is more important in Rocky Springs. I've never seen the
like of this place." She g