udden change of his face, Tilly comprehended the relief that
must have swept through him at that moment. He glanced toward the center
of the town where a cluster of lights threw a glow on the sky. "There is
a show under a tent on Main Street to-night," he said. "It may not be
much good, but it is something to go to. Suppose we walk over? It isn't
very far. When it is out we can stop at Tilman's ice-cream and
soda-water parlor and take something cool."

"No"--Tilly shook her head--"let's stay at home."

"But why? Listen! That's them now!" There was a sound of a brass band
playing in the direction of the lights, the blare of horns, and the
beating of drums. "They always play outside the tent to draw a crowd.
Why don't you want to go, little girl?"

"You said you were tired."

"Who, me? Good gracious! Now that I've had my supper I feel like a
fighting-cock. We'd better go. You are staying in too close, anyway."

CHAPTER XXVII

There seemed no way to avoid accepting the invitation, and she went into
the cottage for a light shawl. Then they locked up their little house
and started away. Tilly held his arm. She tried to fancy that they were
taking one of the unforgettable strolls along the mountain roads at
Cranston which had led to their union, but the illusion refused to abide
with her, for at Cranston he had been care-free, full of hope and joy,
and now his every word seemed to exude from a heart surcharged with
pain. How she loved him, now that she better understood the Sinister
fate that was scourging him so relentlessly!

Ahead of them they saw a tent. It was lighted. "That is not the one,"
John explained. "That is a tabernacle revival meeting. Sam goes every
night. He doesn't believe in it any more than I do, down inside of
himself, I mean; but he goes and tries to get the boys to go. That would
suit your father. That preacher throws off his coat and dares the
barkeepers to meet him in a fist-to-fist, knock-down, drag-out match on
his platform. We must go, too. How about to-morrow night?"

"But--but you don't believe in such meetings," Tilly answered.

"It doesn't make any odds what I believe," John returned, in a
thoughtful tone. "You got a lot, one way or another, out of your meeting
and Sunday-school up at home, and--and this is a dull town. It is full
of sets and a lot of silly pride, drawing the line at this and that.
Take my trade, for instance. Do you know a brick mason is sort o' looked
down o