"Since I've lived with him I've seen my reasons to be none of the best." He fidgeted now, rising, cap in hand.

"I ought to go and look after him," he said, "if I only knew where to go." It struck Trenholme that Harkness had an idea where to go, and that his questioning was really a prelude to its announcement.

"Where do _you_ think he has gone ?" "Well, if you ask me what I think, Principal--but, mind, I haven't a word of proof of it--I think he's gone up the mountain, and that he's not gone there alone." "What do you mean ?" "I mean that I think drunken Job's wife, and old McNider, and some more of the Second Advent folks, will go with him, expecting to be caught up." "Impossible!" cried Trenholme, vehemently.

Then more soberly, "Even if they had such wild intentions, the weather would, of course, put a stop to it." Harkness did not look convinced.

"Job's threatened to beat his wife to death if she goes, and it's my belief she'll go." He twirled his hat as he spoke.