Herman was full of mockery. "The sun rises just the same, whether it's 'sprinkling' or 'immersion.' It's lucky Nature don't take a hand in these theological contests. She doesn't even referee the scrap; she never seems to care whether you are sparring for points or fighting to a finish. What you theologic middle-weights are really fighting for I can't see--and I don't care, till you fall over the ropes on to my corns." Stacey listened in a daze to Herman's tirade. He knew it was addressed to Allen, and that it deprecated war, and that it was mocking. The fresh face and smiling lips of the young girl seemed to put other affairs very far away. It was such a beautiful thing to sit at table with a lovely girl. After breakfast he put on his cap and coat, and went out into the clear, cold November air. All about him the prairie outspread, marked with farm-houses and lined with leafless hedges. Artificial groves surrounded each homestead, and these relieved, to some degree, the desolateness of the fields. Down the road he saw the spire of a small white church, and as he walked briskly toward it, Herman's description of it came to his mind. As he drew near, the ruined sheds, the rotting porch, and the windows boarded up told a sorry story, and his face grew sad. He tried one of the doors, and found it open. Some tramp had broken the lock. The inside was even more desolate than the outside. It was littered with rotting straw and plum stones and melon seeds. Obscene words were scrawled on the walls, and even on the pulpit itself. Taken altogether, it was an appalling picture to the young servant of the Man of Galilee--a blunt reminder of the inherent ferocity and depravity of man. As he pondered the fire burned, and there rose again the flame of his resolution. He lifted his face and prayed that he might be the one to bring these people into the living union of the Church of Christ. His blood set toward his heart with tremulous action. His eyes glowed with zeal like that of the prophets of the Middle Ages. He saw the people united once more in this desecrated hall. He heard the bells ringing, the sound of song, the voices of love and fellowship filling the anterooms where hate had scrawled hideous blasphemy against woman and against God. As he sat there Herman came in, his keen eyes seeking out every stain and evidence of vandalism. "Cheerful prospect, isn't it?" Wallace looked up with the blaze of his resolution still in his eyes. His pale face was sweet and solemn. "Oh, how these people need Christ!" Herman turned away. "They need killing--about two dozen of 'em. I'd like to have the job of indicating which ones. I wouldn't miss the old man, you bet!" he added, with cordial resentment. Wallace was helpless in the face of such reckless thought, and so sat silently watching the handsome young fellow as he walked about.