Chapter 13

“Yes,” the Squire amplified. “It was the best thing, or at least the strongest thing in Jane. I don't say anything against it, mother,” he said tenderly to his wife. “Jane was a good girl, especially after she got over her faith in Dylks, and she's a good woman. At least, Jim thinks so.”

Mrs. Braile contented herself as she could with his ironical concession.

The stranger looked at his watch; he jumped to his feet. “Nine o'clock! Mrs. Braile, I'm ashamed. But you must blame your husband, partly. Good night, ma'am; good--Why, look here, Squire Braile!” he arrested himself in offering his hand. “How about the obscurity of the scene where Joe Smith founded his superstition, which bids fair to live right along with the other false religions? Was Leatherwood, Ohio, a narrower stage than Manchester, New York? And in point of time the two cults were only four years apart.”

“Well, that's a thing that's occurred to me since we've been talking. Suppose we look into it to-morrow? Come round to breakfast--about six o'clock. One point, though: Joe Smith only claimed to be a prophet, and Dylks claimed to be a god. That made it harder, maybe for his superstition.”

THE END

End of Project Gutenberg's The Leatherwood God, by William Dean Howells