matter of fact, he tore up the sheets the next morning
without reading them. Mr. Worthington unbuttoned his coat, fumbled in
his pocket, and pulled out two cigars, one of which he pushed toward
Jethro, who shook his head. Mr. Worthington lighted his cigar and
cleared his throat.

"Perhaps you have observed, Mr. Bass," he said, "that this is a rapidly
growing section of the state--that the people hereabouts are every day
demanding modern and efficient means of communication with the outside
world."

"Struck you as a mill owner, has it?" said Jethro.

"I do not care to emphasize my private interests," answered Mr.
Worthington, at last appearing to get into his stride again. "I wish to
put the matter on broader grounds. Men like you and me ought not to be
so much concerned with our own affairs as with those of the population
amongst whom we live. And I think I am justified in putting it to you on
these grounds."

"H-have to be justified, do you--have to be justified?" Jethro inquired.
"Er--why?"

This was a poser, and for a moment he stared at Jethro, blankly, until
he decided how to take it. Then he crossed his legs and blew smoke
toward the ceiling.

"It is certainly fairer to everybody to take the broadest view of a
situation," he remarked; "I am trying to regard this from the aspect of
a citizen, and I am quite sure that it will appeal to you in the same
light. If the spirit which imbued the founders of this nation means
anything, Mr. Bass, it means that the able men who are given a chance
to rise by their own efforts must still retain the duties and
responsibilities of the humblest citizens. That, I take it, is our
position, Mr. Bass,--yours and mine."

Mr. Worthington had uncrossed his legs, and was now by the inspiration
of his words impelled to an upright position. Suddenly he glanced at
Jethro, and started for Jethro had sunk down on the small of his back,
his chin on his chest, in an attitude of lassitude if not of oblivion.
There was a silence perhaps a little disconcerting for Mr. Worthington,
who chose the opportunity to relight his cigar.

"G-got through?" said Jethro, without moving, "g-got through?"

"Through?" echoed Mr. Worthington, "through what?"

"T-through Sunday-school," said Jethro.

Worthington dropped his match and stamped on it, and Wetherell began
to wonder how much the man would stand. It suddenly came over the
storekeeper that the predicament in which Mr. Worthington found himse