fter
he had taken down the bars, the pair went on through a grove to where a
large building loomed against the sky.

"A church," said Caleb. "One of the Bayport churches, I cal'late. Wonder
which 'tis?"

"There's always a sign on the front of a church," said Hannah. "Let's go
around front and see."

There were no trees in front of the church, and when they came out by
the front platform, Miss Parker exclaimed, "Well, I never! I wouldn't
believe I'd remember so clear. This church seems just as familiar as if
I was here yesterday. Why, what's the matter?"

Mr. Hammond was standing on the platform, holding his lantern up before
a gilt-lettered placard by the church door.

"Hannah," he gurgled, "this night's been too much for me. My foolishness
has struck out of my brains into my eyes. I can't read straight. Look
here."

Hannah clambered up beside her agitated companion, and read from the
placard these words:

FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH

REV. JONATHAN LANGWORTHY, PASTOR

"Good land!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Langworthy! Why, Mr. Langworthy is the
minister at Wellmouth Centre, ain't he? I thought he was."

"He is, but perhaps there's another one."

"No, there ain't--not another Baptist. And--and this church, what little
I can see of it, LOOKS like the Wellmouth Centre Baptist Church, too; I
declare it does! . . . Where are you goin'?"

Caleb did not reply, neither did he turn back. Hannah, who did not
propose to be left alone there in the dark, was hurrying after him,
but he stopped and when she reached his side she found him holding the
lantern and peering at an iron gate in a white fence. His face, seen by
the lantern light, was a picture of bewildered amazement.

"What is it?" she demanded. "What IS it?"

He did not answer, but merely pointed to the gate.

"Eh? What--why--why, Caleb, that's--ain't that the Nickerson memorial
gate? . . . It can't be! But--but it IS! Why--"

Mr. Hammond was muttering to himself.

"We took the wrong road at the crossin'," he said. "Then we must have
switched again, probably when we was arguin' about kindlin' the fire;
then we must have turned again when the harness broke; and that must
have fetched us into Lemuel Ellis' wood-lot road that comes out--"

"Eh? Lemuel Ellis' wood-lot? Why, Lemuel's wood-lot is at--"

"It's at Wellmouth Centre, that's where 'tis. No wonder that church
looked familiar. Hannah, we ain't been nigh Bayport. We've been ridin'
rou