He made his way to where Greenstream village lay somnolent beneath the
refulgent day. The chairs before the office of the _Bugle_ were
unoccupied, from within came the monotonous, sliding rattle of the small
footpress. Gordon sat absently revolving the possibilities held out by the
near future. Hay, he knew was still being made in the valley, but the
prospect of long, arduous, days in the open fields, in the hot, dry chaff
of the sere grass, was forbidding. He might take his gun and a few
personal necessities and disappear into such wild as yet remained,
contracting steadily before the inexorable, smooth advance of
civilization. He was aware that he could manage a degree of comfort,
adequate food. But the thoughtless resiliency of sheer youth had deserted
him, the desire for mere, picturesque adventure had fled during the past,
comfortable years. He dismissed contemptuously the possibility of clerking
in a local store. There was that still in the Makimmon blood which balked
at measuring ribbands, selling calico to captious women.
The large, suave figure of the Universalist minister, in grey alpaca coat
and black trousers, approached leisurely over the street, and stopped
before Gordon. The minister had a conspicuously well-fed paunch, his
smooth face expressed placid self-approval, his tones never for a moment
lost the unctuous echo of the pulpiteer.
"You have not worshipped with us lately," he observed. "Remiss, remiss.
Our services have been stirring--three souls redeemed from everlasting
torment at the Wednesday meeting, two adults and a child sealed to Christ
on Sunday."
"I'll drop in," Gordon told him pacifically.
"A casual phrase to apply to the Mansion of the Son," the minister
observed, "more humility would become you.... God, I pray Thee that Thy
fire descend upon this unhappy man and consume utterly away his carnal
envelope. What are you doing?" he demanded abruptly of Gordon.
"Nothing particular just now."
"There are some small occupations about the parsonage--a board or so loose
on the ice house, a small field of provender for the animal. Let us say a
week's employment for a ready man. I could pay but a modest
stipend ... but the privilege of my home, the close communion with our
Maker. You would be as my brother: what do you say?"
Gordon was well aware of the probable extent of the "small occupations,"
the minister's reputation for exacting monumental labors in return for the
"modest stipend" mentioned. However, the proposal furnished Gordon with a
solution for immediate difficulties; it secured him a bed and food, an
opportunity for the maturing of further plans.