unexpected effect.

"You DO?" cried the minister. The next moment he was alone. Grace Van
Horne had vanished in the gloom of the pine thickets.

It was a strange John Ellery who walked slowly back along the path, one
that Keziah herself would not have recognized, to say nothing of
Captain Elkanah and the parish committee. The dignified parson, with
the dignified walk and calm, untroubled brow, was gone, and here was
an absent-minded young fellow who stumbled blindly along, tripping over
roots and dead limbs, and caring nothing, apparently, for the damage to
his Sunday boots and trousers which might result from the stumbles. He
saw nothing real, and heard nothing, not even the excited person who,
hidden behind the bayberry bush, hailed him as he passed. It was not
until this person rushed forth and seized him by the arm that he came
back to the unimportant affairs of this material earth.

"Why! Why, Mr. Pepper!" he gasped. "Are you here? What do you want?"

"Am I here?" panted Kyan. "Ain't I been here for the last twenty minutes
waitin' to get a chance at you? Ain't I been chasin' you from Dan
to Beersheby all this dummed--excuse me--afternoon? Oh, my godfreys
mighty!"

"Why, what's the matter?"

"Matter? Matter enough! It's all your fault. You got me into the mess,
now you git me out of it."

Usually, when Abishai addressed his clergyman, it was in a tone of
humble respect far different from his present frantic assault. The
Reverend John was astounded.

"What IS the trouble, Mr. Pepper?" he demanded. "Behave yourself, man.
What IS it?"

"You--you made me do it," gurgled Kyan. "Yes, sir, 'twas you put me up
to it. When you was at our house t'other day, after Laviny locked me up,
you told me the way to get square was to lock her up, too. And I done
it! Yes, sir, I done it when she got back from meetin' this noon. I
run off and left her locked in. And--and"--he wailed, wringing his
hands--"I--I ain't dast to go home sence. WHAT'll I do?"

CHAPTER IX

IN WHICH MISS DANIELS DETERMINES TO FIND OUT

The hysterical Mr. Pepper doubtless expected his clergyman to be almost
as much upset as he was by the news of his action. But John Ellery was
provokingly calm. As a matter of fact he scarcely grasped the purport of
the little man's disjointed story. He had been wandering in dreamland,
his head among the clouds, and the explosion of Keziah's bomb disturbed,
but did not clear the air.

"What will you do?" he r