Tell us just what happened," entreated Miss Belle Macdougall, with
a glance of such heart-penetrating quality that Kiddie promptly
acquiesced.

"Well, I'll tell you," he said, adopting a low confidential tone. "I
could see from the very start that old Squeaky Sandy was out after
Dick. He couldn't get him on his Hebrew, so the old chap lay low till
everything was lovely and they were falling on each others' necks over
the Shorter Catechism, and things every fellow is supposed to be quite
safe on. All at once Sandy squeaked in, 'Mr. Boyle, will you kindly
state what you consider the correct theory of the Atonement?' 'I don't
know,' said Boyle; 'I haven't got any.' By Jove! everyone sat up. 'You
believe in the doctrine, I suppose?' Boyle waited a while and my heart
stopped till he went on again. 'Yes, sir, I believe in it.' 'How is
that, sir? If you believe in it you must have a theory. What do you
believe about it?' 'I believe in the fact. I don't understand it, and I
have no theory of it as yet.' And Boyle was as gentle as a sucking dove.
Then the Moderator, decent old chap, chipped it."

"Who was it?" inquired Miss Belle.

"Dr. Mitchell. Fine old boy. None too sound himself, I guess. Pre-mill,
too, you know. Well, he chipped in and got him past that snag. But old
Sandy was not done yet by a long shot. He went after Boyle on every
doctrine in the catalogue where it was possible for a man to get off
the track, Inspiration, Inerrancy, the Mosaic Authorship, and the
whole Robertson Smith business. You know that last big heresy hunt in
Scotland."

"No," said Miss Belle, "I don't know. And you don't, either, so you
needn't stop and try to tell us."

"I don't, eh?" said Bob, who was finding it difficult to keep himself in
a perfectly sane condition under the bewildering glances of Miss Belle's
black eyes. "Well, perhaps I don't. At any rate, I couldn't make you
understand."

"Hear him!" said Miss Belle, with supreme scorn. "Go on. We are
interested in Boyle, aren't we, Margaret?"

"Well, where was I? Oh, yes. Well, sir, in about five minutes it seemed
to me that Boyle's theology was a tattered remnant. Some of the brethren
interfered, explaining and apologizing for the young man after their
kindly custom, but Squeaky wouldn't have it. 'This is most serious, Mr.
Moderator!' he sung out. 'This demands the most searching investigation!
We all know what is going on in the Old Land, how the great doctrines
of our faith are