Green
Valley had already selected its new minister, brought not a line of
worry to the faces turned so politely to the pulpit, for on Lilac
Sunday and to a farewell sermon Green Valley was ever polite.

Green Valley, listening, thought with relief of the Sundays ahead and
felt very much the way a hospitable housewife feels when an uncongenial
guest departs and the home springs back to its old cheery order and
family peace.

When the services were over Green Valley strolled out into the May
sunshine in twos and threes and stood about as always in little groups
to exchange the week's news. Billy Evans' new happiness, the
ten-dollar gold piece and all its attending incidents were duly talked
over. Under the horse chestnuts Max Longman was telling Colonel
Stratton how the day before Sam Ellis had at last leased the hotel to a
Chicago man. It was reported that there was to be no new barber shop,
but that over on West Street a poolroom, also run by a city stranger,
was already doing business. Several people had passed it that morning
on their way to church and all said it had a peculiar appearance.

"Looks like one of those woebegone city dens, with its green plush
curtains so you can't see what's going on inside. All it needs is fly
specks on the windows and a strong smell at its side door. That'll
come with time. I hear you can play billiards and pool in there and
there's some slot machines for those too young to take a hand at cards."

So said Jake Tuttle, who now that he was a deputy sheriff on the watch
for diseases threatening his and his neighbors' cattle, suddenly
realized that there might be such a thing as a deputy sheriff to look
out for the physical and moral health of humans.

Green Valley listened to Max Longman's announcement and Jake's comment
and made up its mind to go around and see. Sam Ellis' withdrawal from
business made Green Valley folks a little uneasy. The hotel in other
hands might become a strange place. For a moment an uncomfortable
feeling gripped those who heard. Sam, an old friend and a neighbor,
with his genial good sense and old-fashioned hotel was one thing. A
stranger from the big and wicked city was another.

Green Valley almost began to worry a bit. But on the way home this
feeling wore off. How could things change? Why, there were the
Spencer boys taking turns at the ice-cream freezer on the back porch.
There was Ella Higgins coming out with a saucer of milk for her