t last night in token of the
immense amount of good which he has done me by personal example."

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the deacon.

"I don't mind saying," continued the lawyer, "that if _you_ will go to
work and do me half as much good, I will buy just as much property and
make you a free and clear present of it. I am open to all possible
benefits of that kind nowadays, and willing to pay for them, so far as
money will go, to the full extent of my income and capital." The deacon
arose and looked about him in a dazed sort of fashion. Then he looked
at the lawyer inquiringly, put his hand in his pocket, drew forth a
mass of business papers, shuffled them over once more, looked again at
the lawyer, and said,--

"Mr. Bartram, I've got some particular business with you that I would
like to talk about at once. Would you mind coming to my office, or
taking me around to yours?"

"Not at all. Good luck, Sam," said the lawyer. "Good day."

The two men went out together. No sooner were they outside the shop
than the deacon said, rapidly,--

"Reynolds Bartram, my business affairs are in the worst possible
condition. You know more about them than anybody else. You have done as
much as anybody else to put them in the muddle that they're in now. You
helped me into them, and now, church or no church, religion or no
religion, you've got to help me out of them, or I've got to go to the
devil. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

"Is it as bad as that?" murmured the lawyer.

"Yes, it's as bad as that, and I could put it a good deal stronger if
it was necessary. Everything has been going wrong. That walnut timber
tract over on the creek, that I expected to get about five thousand
dollars out of, isn't worth five thousand cents. Since the last time I
was over there some rascal stole every log that was worth taking, and
the place wouldn't bring under the hammer half what I gave for it. I
have been trying to sell it, but somehow everybody that wanted it
before has found out what has been going on. This is an awfully mean
world on business-men that don't look out for themselves all the time."

"I should not think you had ever any right to complain of it, deacon,"
said the lawyer.

"Come, come, now," said the deacon, "I'm not in any condition to be
tormented to-day, Reynolds,--I really ain't. I'm almost crazy. I
suppose old Mrs. Poynter has been at you to get her interest-money out
of me, hasn't she?"

"Hasn't spoken a wo