Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1923-12-06
CHAPTER Ii-continued.

Mercy! but you're a hard man {
herd. Don't y'u know you're goin'
home with us t. support"
First / heard of It," the woodsnan
drawled, shifting his shoulder against
the post.
The girl glanced at the preacher
standing at the edge of the road,
jerked her head ever SO slightly toward
nina motion so elusive that it would
have escaped anybody else but Jack
Warhope-and lowered her voice to
whisper:
well git i'm t. tell us about-Ken."
She turned away. The shoulders
left the porch post, and the man fol-
lowed.
The old banker was holding out his
hand for the letters. He glanced them
over, grunted, thrust them unopened
into the pocket of his faded coat; NUT
tered word, drew them forth again,
sorted out one, stared hard at the adj
dress and postmark +; and then, with a
bunch of letters together, crammed
them back into his pocket again and,
followed by the others, trudged away
up the road.
The venerable widow, like the rest
Of the village, must have been on the
lookout for the new preacher, for she
was at the door to meet him as he
came up the walk with the others. The
old banker presented him.
$50 glad to have you come, Brother
Hopkins. 1t has been so dreadfulIy
lonesome since-!"
The mild old eyes fioated full of
tears. The preacher seemed not to
notice
II saw your husbands obituary in
one Of the church papers,"
The widow dabbed at her eyes with
a black-bordered handkerchief; the
preacher, in his hesitating, jerky way,
went on.
II Immediately wrote to Mr. Colin
offering to come on a-ah-sort of va
cation trip and serve the congregation
until the vacancy could be filed. 1
was the more attracted to the thought
Of coming because my health had
given way under the dual strain of
preaching and teaching. And then, too,
! had heard much about Buckeye and
the Flatwoods from a-ah-classmate
Of mine while student in the college
In which | now have the honor to hold
a professorship."
The banker frowned thoughtfully ;
Texie glanced at Jack.
Evening shadows were gathering
thick in the corners of the room. The
old man, becoming aware Of them,
glanced about him and turned to the
widow.
well, Sister Mason, If you don't
mind, I'll jist show Brother Hopkins
the study, and then you better g long
over with us t. supper"
With the fine courtesy of one trained
to the parsonage. she excused herself (;
the old banker went on:
Il blieve you said he was t. have
the use of the study?"
The Widow Mason was only too well
used to the crisp curt ways of Simon
Colin. She turned to the young
preacher.
Brother Hopkins, / don't want you
to feel that you are to have merely
the study. My home is your home.
Please feel free to use all of it or any
part of it."
The young preacher bowed very low,
and turned to the banker, who led the
way up the stairs with as much au.
thority as If he owned the place
which, in reality, he did.
The study, with It's writing desk and
leather easy chair, with It's shelves
and shelves of books, showed that its
late owner had been a man of studi
Gus habits and apparently scholarly at
tainments.
An immense apple-tree grew by the
east window, thrusting its stout
branches so close as almost to brush
the panes. Through its opening bios
SONS and half sprung leaves enough
OF the dag remained to catch a view
Of the old bankers two or three acre.
Of park-like orchard that lay between
the parsonage and the red-roofed cot
tage.
The young preacher stood at tn.
window and gazed out over the or
ehard. aromatic with promise, greer
with its thick mat Of bluegrass, Whit
under the trees where the blossom.
showed down.
The banker slapped him on tn,
shoulder. He must have been deepl.
absorbed In the spell Of the place, will
Its quiet an1 repose, for he started an,
laughed n--vously.
Il must have been dreaming"
The old man tossed hand towar
he window.