gh-looking kids on the back seats had at least
one eye apiece squinted shut during the prayer, and almost an atmosphere
of reverence upon them.

Tennelly prided himself upon being a student of human nature, and before
he knew it he was interested in this mass of common people about him.
But now and again his gaze went uneasily back to Courtland, whose eyes
were fixed intently upon the preacher, as if the words he spoke were of
real importance to him.

Tennelly sat back in wonder and tried to listen. It was all about a
mysterious companionship with God, stuff that sounded like "rot" to him;
uncanny, unreal, mystical, impossible! Could it be true that Court,
their peach of a Court, whose sneer and criticism alike had been dreaded
by all who came beneath them--could it be that so sensible and scholarly
and sane a mind as Court's could take up with a superstition like that?
For it was to Tennelly foolishness.

He owned to a certain amount of interest in the emotional side of the
sermon. It was true that the little man could sway that uncouth audience
mightily. He felt himself swayed in the tenderer side of his nature, but
of course his superior mind realized that it was all emotion;
interesting as a study, but not to be taken seriously for a moment. It
wasn't a healthy thing for Court to see much of this sort of thing. All
this talk of a cross, and one dying for all! Mere foolishness and
superstition! Very beautiful, and perhaps allegorical, but not at all
practical!

The minister was down by the door before they got out, and grasped
Courtland's hand as if he were an old friend, and then turned and
grasped Tennelly's. There was something so genuine and sincere about his
face that Tennelly decided that he must really believe all that junk he
had been preaching, after all. He wasn't a fake, he was merely a good,
wholesome sort of a fanatic. He bowed pleasantly and said a few
commonplaces as he passed out.

"Seems to be a good sort," he murmured to Courtland. "Pity he's tied
down to that sort of thing!"

Courtland looked at him sharply. "Is that the way you feel about it,
Nelly?" There was something half wistful in his tone.

Tennelly looked at him sharply. "Why, sure! I think he's a bigger man
than his job, don't you?"

"Then you didn't feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"The Presence of God in that place!"

There was something so simple and majestic about the way Courtland made
the extraordinary statement--not as a comm