“Yes, Web,” she answered in the meek tone she reserved for such moments as this. “Do I have to tell you again that this is the day Bishop Gladding is to be here? He said not to try to meet him, as he didn’t know what train he’d take from Louisville, but he’d show up in time for dinner. He wrote he was coming a week ago, and you said not to ask anybody for dinner, as you liked to have him to yourself. You don’t mean to tell me----” “No, Gertie; I’ll be there!” and then, remembering that his too-ready acquiescence might establish a precedent that would rise up and smite him later, he added: “But these are busy days; if I should be late don’t wait for me. That’s the rule, you know.” “I should think, Web, when the bishop is an old friend, and saved your life that time you and Ralph Gordon were hunting Rocky Mountain sheep with him, and the bishop nearly died carrying you back to a doctor--I should think----” “Oh, I’ll be there,” said Burgess; “but there’s a friend of Gordon’s in town I’ll have to look up after a little. No; he hasn’t time to come to the house. You know how it is, Gertie----” She said she knew how it was. These telephonic colloquies were not infrequent between the Burgesses, and Mrs. Burgess was not without her provocation. He resolved to hurry and get through with Gordon’s man, Drake, the newly freed convict seeking a better life, that he might not be late to dinner in his own house, which was to be enlivened by the presence of the young, vigorous missionary bishop, who was, moreover, a sportsman and in every sense a man’s man. He put on his ulster, made sure of the five hundred dollars he had obtained on Gordon’s draft, and at five-thirty went out to his car, which had waited an hour. II A thaw had been in progress during the day and hints of rain were in the air. The moon tottered drunkenly among flying clouds. The bank watchman predicted snow before morning as he bade Burgess good night. Burgess knew Vevay Street, for he owned a business block at its intersection with Senate Avenue. Beyond the avenue it deteriorated rapidly and was filled with tenements and cheap boarding houses. Several blocks west ran an old canal, lined with factories, elevators, lumber yards and the like, and on the nearer bank was a network of railroad switches.