Part 40 (1/2)

”What are you going to do--quit?”

”Quit?” shouted Brown, springing to his feet.

”I apologize,” said French hastily; ”I ought to have known better.”

”No, I am not going to quit,” said Brown, recovering his quiet manner. ”If he wants the school, and will undertake to run it, why, I'll give him the building and the outfit.”

”But,” said French, ”isn't that rather funking it?”

”Not a bit” said Brown emphatically. ”I am not sent here to proselytize. My church is not in that business. We are doing business, but we are in the business of making good citizens.

We tried to get the Government to establish schools among the Galicians. The Government declined. We took it up, and hence this school. We tried to get Greek Catholic priests from Europe to look after the religion and morals of these people. We absolutely failed to get a decent man to offer. Remember, I say decent man. We had offers, plenty of them, but we could not lay our hands on a single, clean, honest-minded man with the fear of G.o.d in his heart, and the desire to help these people. So, as I say, we will give this man a fair chance, and if he makes good, I will back him up and say, 'G.o.d bless you.' But he won't make good,” added Brown gloomily, ”from the way he starts out.”

French waited, and Brown went on. ”He was called to marry a couple the other day, got hopelessly drunk, charged them ten dollars, and they are not sure whether they are married or not. Last Sunday he drummed the people up to confession. It was a long time since they had had a chance, and they were glad to come. He charged them two dollars apiece, tried to make it five, but failed, and now he introduces himself to me by closing my school. He may mean well, but his methods would bear improvement. However, as I have said, we will give him a chance.”

”And meantime?” enquired French.

”Meantime? Oh! I shall stick to my pills and plasters,--we have ten patients in the hospital now,--run the store and the mill, and try to help generally. If this priest gets at his work and makes good, I promise you I'll not bother him.”

”And if not?” enquired French.

”If not? Well, then,” said Brown, sinking back into his easy, good-natured manner, ”you see, I am const.i.tutionally indolent.

I would rather he'd move out than I, and so while the colony stays here, it will be much easier for me to stay than to go.

And,” he added, ”I shall get back my school, too.”

French looked at him admiringly. Brown's lips had come together in a straight line.

”By George! I believe you,” exclaimed French, ”and I think I see the finish of the Polish gentleman. Can I help you out?”

”I do not know,” said Brown, ”but Kalman can. I want him to do some interpreting for me some of these days. By the way, where is he to-day? He is not with you.”

French's face changed. ”That reminds me,” he said, ”but I hate to unload my burden on you to-day when you have got your own.”

”Do not hesitate,” said Brown, with a return of his cheery manner; ”another fellow's burden helps to balance one's own. You know I am const.i.tutionally selfish and get thinking far too much of myself, --habit of mine, bad habit.”

”You go to thunder, Brown, with your various and many const.i.tutional weaknesses. When I look at you and your work for this thankless horde I feel something of a useless brute.”

”Hold up there, now, don't you abuse my paris.h.i.+oners. They are a perfectly good lot if left alone. They are awfully grateful, and, yes, in many ways they are a good lot.”

”Yes, a jolly lot of quitters they are. They have quit you dead.”

Brown winced. ”Let us up on that spot, French,” he said. ”It is a little raw yet. What's your trouble?”

”Well,” said French, ”I hardly know how to begin. It is Kalman.”

At once Brown was alert.

”Sick?”

”Oh! no, not he. Fit as a fiddle; but the fact is he is not doing just as well as he ought.”