The deacon hurried off to the shoe-store.  As usual, the only occupant of the shop was Sam.

“Where’s Larry, Sam?” asked the deacon, briskly.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Sam, “but I’m afraid he’s at Weitz’s beer-shop.”

“Well, Sam,” said the deacon, trying to be pleasant, though his mouth was very severely set, “while you’re in the converting line,—­which I hear you’re doing wonders at, and I’m very glad to hear it,—­why don’t you begin at home and bring about a change in Larry?”

“Do you know, deacon,” said Sam, “I was thinkin’ about the same thing? and I’m goin’ to see that priest of his about—­”

“Oh, Sam!” groaned the deacon.  “The idea of going to see a Catholic priest about a fellow-man’s salvation, when there’s a special meeting running in our own church and you’ve taken such an interest in it!”

“Every man for his own, deacon,” said Sam.  “I don’t believe Larry cares anythin’ about the church that you belong to, an’ that I’ve been goin’ to for some little time, an’ I know he thinks a good deal of Father Black.  I’ve found out myself, after a good deal of trouble in this world, that it makes a good deal of difference who talks to you about such things.  Now, he thinks Father Black is the best man there is in the world.  I don’t know anythin’ about that, though I don’t know of anybody in this town I ever talked to that left me feelin’ more comfortable an’ looked more like a good man himself than that old priest did one day when he come in here an’ talked to me very kindly.  Why, deacon, he didn’t put on any airs at all.  He talked just as if he was a good brother of mine, an’ he left me feelin’ that if I wasn’t good I was a brother of his anyhow.  That’s more than I can say most other folks in this town ever did, deacon.”

The deacon was so horrified at this unexpected turn of the conversation that for a little while he entirely forgot the purpose for which he had come.  But he was recalled to his senses by the entrance of Reynolds Bartram.  His eyes met the lawyer’s, and at once the deacon looked defiant.  Then he pulled himself together, and, with a mighty effort, remarked,—­

“Sam, some folks say I am down on you, and that I don’t sympathize with you.  Some folks talk a good deal for you, and to you, and don’t do anything for you.  But I just came in this morning for the sole purpose of saying this:  You’ve had a hard row to hoe, and you’ve worked at it first rate ever since you got out of jail.  I’ve been watching you, though perhaps you don’t know it, and I came here to say that I believe so much in your having had a change—­though I do insist you haven’t gone far enough—­I came around to say that I was going to buy out this place from Larry, and give it to you at your own terms, so that you can make all the money that comes in.”

Sam looked up in astonishment at the lawyer.  The lawyer looked down smilingly at the deacon, who was seated on a very low bench, and said,—­