"Oh, I know well enough," remarked Donald. "If I had been aware of how matters stood about the rectory, I should have acted differently. I wrote him a pretty stiff letter a day or two ago, calling upon him, as Senior Warden, to use his influence to fulfill the contract with me, and get the arrears of my salary paid up. I suppose he had thought I would just get out of the place if my salary was held back--and he's wanted to get rid of me for some time. Now, he's taken this other means of ejecting me not only from his house but from the town itself. He knows I can't afford to pay the rent out of my salary--let alone out of half of it!" He laughed rather bitterly. "He'll be singing a different tune, before I've done with him," said Hepsey. "Now you leave this to me--I'll have a twitch on old Bascom's nose that'll make him think of something else than ejecting his rector. I'll go and visit with him a little this afternoon." "But Nelson said that he was in New York." "I know better than that," snorted Hepsey. "But I guess he'll want to go there, and stay the winter there too, maybe, when I've had my say. No sir--I'm goin' to take my knittin' up to his office, and sit awhile; and if he doesn't have the time of his life it won't be my fault." She turned to leave the room, with a belligerent swing of her shoulders. "Mrs. Burke," said Maxwell gently, "you are kindness itself; but I don't want you to do this--at least not yet. I want to fight this thing through myself, and rather to shame Bascom into doing the right thing than force him to do it--even if the latter were possible. I must think things out a bit. I shall want your help--we always do, Betty and I." "I don't know but you're right; but if your plan don't work, remember mine _will_. Well, Mrs. Betty'll be coming in soon, and I'll leave you. Meantime I shall just go home and load my guns: I'm out for Bascom's hide, sooner or later." [Illustration] CHAPTER XVIII THE NEW RECTORY When Betty returned, and Donald told her the happenings of the morning, the clouds dispersed somewhat, and before long the dictum that "there is humor in all things"--even in ejection from house and home--seemed proven true. After lunch they sat in Donald's den, and were laughingly suggesting every kind of habitat, possible and impossible, from purchasing and fitting up the iceman's covered wagon and perambulating round the town, to taking a store and increasing their income by purveying Betty's tempting preserves and confections. Their consultation was interrupted by the arrival of Nickey, armed with a Boy Scouts' "Manual." "Gee! Mr. Maxwell: Uncle Jonathan Jackson's all right; I'll never do another thing to guy him. He's loaned us his tent for our Boy Scouts' corpse, and I've been studyin' out how to pitch it proper, so I can show the kids the ropes; but----" "Donald!" cried Betty. "The very thing--let's camp out on the church lot."