Judge Herman ruled for the defendant, and Penrod was considered to have carried his point.  With fine consistency, the conclave established that it was proper for the general public to “say it,” provided “go to heaven” should in all cases precede it.  This prefix was pronounced a perfect disinfectant, removing all odour of impiety or insult; and, with the exception of Georgie Bassett (who maintained that the minister’s words were “going” and “gone,” not “go"), all the boys proceeded to exercise their new privilege so lavishly that they tired of it.

But there was no diminution of evangelical ardour; again were heard the clamours of dispute as to which was the best qualified for the ministry, each of the claimants appealing passionately to Herman, who, pleased but confused, appeared to be incapable of arriving at a decision.

During a pause, Georgie Bassett asserted his prior rights.  “Who said it first, I’d like to know?” he demanded.  “I was going to be a minister from long back of to-day, I guess.  And I guess I said I was going to be a minister right to-day before any of you said anything at all.  Didn’t I, Herman?  You heard me, didn’t you, Herman?  That’s the very thing started you talking about it, wasn’t it, Herman?”

“You’ right,” said Herman.  “You the firs’ one to say it.”

Penrod, Sam, and Maurice immediately lost faith in Herman.

“What if you did say it first?” Penrod shouted.  “You couldn’t be a minister if you were a hunderd years old!”

“I bet his mother wouldn’t let him be one,” said Sam.  “She never lets him do anything.”

“She would, too,” retorted Georgie.  “Ever since I was little, she——­”

“He’s too sissy to be a preacher!” cried Maurice.  “Listen at his squeaky voice!”

“I’m going to be a better minister,” shouted Georgie, “than all three of you put together.  I could do it with my left hand!”

The three laughed bitingly in chorus.  They jeered, derided, scoffed, and raised an uproar which would have had its effect upon much stronger nerves than Georgie’s.  For a time he contained his rising choler and chanted monotonously, over and over:  “I could!  I could, too!  I could!  I could, too!” But their tumult wore upon him, and he decided to avail himself of the recent decision whereby a big H was rendered innocuous and unprofane.  Having used the expression once, he found it comforting, and substituted it for:  “I could!  I could, too!”

But it relieved him only temporarily.  His tormentors were unaffected by it and increased their howlings, until at last Georgie lost his head altogether.  Badgered beyond bearing, his eyes shining with a wild light, he broke through the besieging trio, hurling little Maurice from his path with a frantic hand.

“I’ll show you!” he cried, in this sudden frenzy.  “You give me a chance, and I’ll prove it right now!”