“Sure thing, ma'am,” said Mr. Sleighter, pushing back his chair and beginning to rock on its hind legs, picking his teeth with his pen knife, to the staring horror of the little girls.
The reading was from the Scripture to which throughout the centuries the Christian Church has gone for authority and guidance in the exercise of charity and in the performance of social service, the story of the Samaritan gentleman to whom the unhappy traveller whose misfortune it was to be sorely mishandled by thieves owed his rescue and his life.
Throughout the reading Mr. Sleighter paid the strictest attention and joined in the prayers with every sign of reverence. At the close he stood awkwardly shifting from one foot to another.
“Well, I'll be goin',” he said. “Don't know how you roped me in for this here visit, ma'am. I ain't et in any one's house since I left home, and I ain't heard any family prayers since my old dad had 'em--a regular old Methodist exhorter he was. He used to pray until all was blue, though most times, specially at night, I used to fall asleep. He was great on religion.”
“I don't suppose he was any the worse for that,” said Mrs. Gwynne.
“Not a mite, not a mite, ma'am. A little strict, but straight as a string, ma'am. No one could say anythin' against Hiram Sleighter--H. P. Sleighter. I was named for him. He used to pray to beat creation, and then some, but he was a straight man all right. And to-night your kids and your family prayers made me think of them old days. Well, good-night and thank you for the good time you gave me. Best I've had in a dog's age.”
“You will come again, Mr. Sleighter,” said Mrs. Gwynne, giving him her hand.
“Yes, and tell us more about that new country,” added her son. “My, I'd like to go out there!”
“It's a wonderful country all right and you might do a hull lot worse.”
Mr. Gwynne accompanied Mr. Sleighter to the door. “Will you walk down to the store?” said Mr. Sleighter.
“Very well,” said Mr. Gwynne, setting off with him.
Mr. Sleighter evidently had something on his mind. The usual fountain of his speech seemed to be dried up. As they drew near to the store, he seized Mr. Gwynne by the arm, arrested him, and said:
“Say, Mr. Gwynne, you ain't got any right to be in business. You ain't got the parts, and that Machine Company and the rest of 'em put it all over you.”