Part 22 (1/2)

”Who is he, anyway?” a man asked. ”Where did he come from?”

”He was brought up on a farm, and worked his way through college,” Dr.

Rannage explained. ”He understands country ways and should suit very nicely here.”

”Why don't ye say 'the bush'?” Bill Simmonds shouted. ”Anything will suit us here.”

The laugh which followed this remark annoyed Dr. Rannage.

”I am almost inclined to believe you are right,” he angrily retorted.

”Ye believe it already, an' we know it.”

”Order!” the chairman sternly demanded. ”Bill Simmonds, you had better leave the hall, if you can't behave yourself.”

”All right, sir,” Bill acquiesced, as he threw a wink to a man across the aisle and settled back in his seat. ”I've got nuthin' more to say.”

Dr. Rannage was evidently embarra.s.sed. He mopped his face with his handkerchief, and took another drink of water.

”I think I have explained matters quite fully,” he at last continued, ”and perhaps my companions here would like to say something. I trust, however, that you will give your new clergyman a fair trial, and do everything in your power to help him.”

”What's his name?” Tom Stephens asked. ”You have never mentioned that.”

”It is Douglas Stanton. He comes from a good old family, so I understand, and his grandfather held an important government position in this province.”

Dr. Rannage's companions had very little to say. They were business men, so they said, and unaccustomed to public speaking. Each made an appeal to the people to support the new clergyman, to repair the rectory, and to give more liberally toward the support of the Church in their parish. They were given an attentive hearing, and when they were through, the chairman brought the meeting to a sudden close. Just why he did so Douglas could not understand. Stubbles' manner had greatly changed since his opening remarks and he seemed to be annoyed and irritable.

Douglas was the first to leave the building, and he stood outside in the shadow of the hall hoping to get a word with Stubbles. As the people pa.s.sed him, he overheard some of their remarks which were by no means complimentary.

”He made a mess of it, he surely did,” a man was saying. ”What does he know about the country?”

”Nuthin',” his companion replied. ”What were them funny things he wore on his legs? I would like to see him out in the----”

Douglas could not hear his closing words. But the comments of others were of a similar nature, and he realised that Dr. Rannage had not smoothed the way for his coming to the parish as rector.

Last of all came the delegates, talking earnestly with one another. He could not hear what they were saying, but judging from the tone of their voices, they were not at all satisfied at the outcome of the meeting. Simon Stubbles walked behind. He was limping and carried a cane in his hand. His head was bent, and his face was turned to the ground as if in deep thought. Douglas at once stepped forward and touched him on the arm. Stubbles gave a sudden start and looked quickly around.

”Oh, it's you, is it?” he gasped. He did not altogether relish the idea of meeting the man he had ordered from the parish.

”Yes, that's who it is,” Douglas replied. ”I want to have a word with you.”

”Didn't you receive my message?” Stubbles asked.

”I did, and I want an explanation.”

”There's nothing to explain. You have made yourself very obnoxious here, and you must get out.”

”And suppose I do not obey?”

”Then you will have to put up with the consequences.”