But Laura had called him to her, and:
"Well, what you say goes, Laura," he muttered at the end of a long hour
of human passion and its repression. "If he's to go scot-free, then he's
got to go; but the boys yonder'll drop on me, if he gets away. Can't you
see what a swab he is, Laura?"
The brown eyes of the girl looked at him gently. The struggle between
them was over; she had had her way--to save the preacher, impostor though
he was; and now she felt, as she had never felt before in the same
fashion, that this man was a man of men.
"Tim, you do not understand," she urged. "You say he was a landsharp in
the South, and that he had to leave-"
"He had to vamoose, or take tar and feathers."
"But he had to leave. And he came here preaching and healing; and he is
a hypocrite and a fraud--I know that now, my eyes are opened. He didn't
do what he said he could do, and it killed Mary Jewell--the shock; and
there were other things he said he could do, and he didn't do them.
Perhaps he is all bad, as you say--I don't think so. But he did some
good things, and through him I've felt as I've never felt before about
God and life, and about Walt and the baby--as though I'll see them again,
sure.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54