either dormant or wholly abandoned. He, himself, refusing to accept the bounty of his treasurer, or the charitable offerings of those few among the wealthier of his parishioners who still stood listlessly by him, was facing an ever-increasing burden of personal debt. What was wrong? Had God forsaken him? Had the Son of God repudiated the doctrine laid down in His Holy Scriptures? Had that doctrine been divinely carved into his believing heart in simple mockery? They were indeed disturbing, insidious, sinister thoughts with which he struggled that day.
In the midst of his contemplation Barry Malleson entered. It was evident, even before he spoke, that something had gone wrong with him. He had lost his air of easy self-assurance. He had a troubled look; his eyes were widely open as if in sorrow, at the cause of which he was still wondering. His face was unshaven, his hair was rumpled, his clothes hung loosely on him, and his soft shirt and flowing tie, the like of which he had affected since his conversion to socialism, were soiled and awry.
"Well, Farrar," he said, "it's all up with me. I came over to tell you."
"What's up, Barry?" The rector had already jumped to the conclusion that there had been serious trouble with Mary Bradley. But in that he was wrong.
"I've had a break," replied Barry, "with the president of the company. I have resigned my position as vice-president."
The situation became at once plain to the minister.
"Was your resignation demanded?" he asked.
"You may say so, yes. I have also been ordered to keep away from the office and the plant."
"For what reason?"
"The president doesn't wish to have any socialist on the premises."
"That's absurd! He has a very narrow mind."
"He has a very determined mind when he's once
