He may come at any minute." "I don't care if he does.

I'd bone him f'r pay f'r that shote, preacher 'r no preacher," said Bartlett, a little nervously.
High words followed this, and there was prospect of a fight.

The pressure of the crowd, however, was so great it was well-nigh impossible for two belligerents to get at each other.

The meeting broke up at last, and the people, chilly, soured, and disappointed at the lack of developments, went home saying Pill was _scaly_; no preacher who chawed terbacker was to be trusted; and when it was learned that the horse and buggy he drove he owed Jennings and Bensen for, everybody said, "He's a fraud." V.
In the meantime, Andrew Pill was undergoing the most singular and awful mental revolution.
When he leaped blindly into his cutter and gave his horse the rein, he was wild with rage and shame, and a sort of fear.

As he sat with bent head, he did not hear the tread of the horse, and did not see the trees glide past.