"Merry Christmas!" in his big hearty tones was
hardly consonant with the troubled look on his face. I
introduced him to Larry and asked him to sit down.
"Pray excuse our disorder,-we didn't do it for fun;
it was one of Santa Claus' tricks."
He stared about wonderingly.
"So you caught it, too, did you?"
"To be sure. You don't mean to say that they raided
the chapel?"
"That's exactly what I mean to say. When I went
into the church for my early service I found that some
one had ripped off the wainscoting in a half a dozen
places and even pried up the altar. It's the most outrageous
thing I ever knew. You've heard of the proverbial
poverty of the church mouse,-what do you suppose
anybody could want to raid a simple little country
chapel for? And more curious yet, the church plate
was untouched, though the closet where it's kept was
upset, as though the miscreants had been looking for
something they didn't find."
Stoddard was greatly disturbed, and gazed about the
topsy-turvy library with growing indignation.
We drew together for a council of war. Here was an
opportunity to enlist a new recruit on my side. I already
felt stronger by reason of Larry's accession; as to
Bates, my mind was still numb and bewildered.
"Larry, there's no reason why we shouldn't join forces
with Mr. Stoddard, as he seems to be affected by this
struggle. We owe it to him and the school to put him
on guard, particularly since we know that Ferguson's
with the enemy."
"Yes, certainly," said Larry.
He always liked or disliked new people unequivocally,
and I was glad to see that he surveyed the big clergyman
with approval.
"I'll begin at the beginning," I said, "and tell you
the whole story."
He listened quietly to the end while I told him of my
experience with Morgan, of the tunnel into the chapel
crypt, and finally of the affair in the night and our interview
with Bates.
"I feel like rubbing my eyes and accusing you of
reading penny-horrors," he said. "That doesn't sound
like the twentieth century in Indiana."
"But Ferguson,-you'd better have a care in his direction.
Sister Theresa-"
"Bless your heart! Ferguson's gone-without notice.
He got his traps and skipped without saying a word to
any one."
"We'll hear from him again, no doubt. Now, gentlemen,
I believe we understand one another. I don't like
to draw you, either one of you, into my private affairs-"
The big chaplain laughed.
"Glenarm,"-prefixes went out of commission quickly
that morning,-"if you hadn't let me in on this I
should never have got over it. Why, this is a page out
of the good old times! Bless me! I never appreciated
your grandfather! I must run-I have another service.
But I hope you gentlemen will call on me, day or night,
for anything I can do to help you. Please don't forget
me. I had the record once for putting the shot."