"Delighted!" cried the Vest with the Silver Horseshoes, not recognizing the caller. Gud sat down and the Clerical Collar poured him a cup of hot water, but neglected to pass him the tea ball. Not wishing to attract attention to the oversight, which he realized was due to the host's being absorbed in spiritual matters, Gud was about to convert the water into tea by a miracle. Upon second thought he refrained, lest the display of miraculous power would reveal his incognito. Still Gud did not like the idea of drinking water straight; so instead of performing a miracle he reached over and helped himself to the tea ball--noting, as he did so, how much simpler it is to get results by natural laws than by unnecessary miracles. The venerable Beard being less wrought up over the disputation, explained the nature of the meeting to the newcomer. Said he: "We are all worshipers and ministers of the one true Gud, having been born and baptised in the faith and duly ordained in its ministry. But of late certain heresies have arisen among us, and we are gathered here to ferret out the heretic and bring him to the bar of ecclesiastical justice. Sad to confess, I find that I alone have remained staunch in our faith, which is founded on the rock of unchanging truth." "Liar," cried out the Spectacles of the Student, "we modernists are also staunch in the faith; it is merely the conceit of fundamentalist bigotry to argue that truth cannot be changed. Indeed, it must be changed or intelligent people will cease to believe it." "You are more accurate than expedient," admonished the Vest with the Silver Horseshoes. "The faith of the people is waning fast, but it will never be restored by your muddled mixtures of science and psychology. What is needed is a great faith-arousing event, such as the trial and burning of a heretic, and for that purpose are we assembled here." "Sad, but true," agreed the Threadbare Coat. "Any burning at the stake would tend to revive faith, but the revival would be much stronger if the burning flesh savored of heresy." "What?" shrieked the horrified Spectacles of the Student. "Is it necessary to burn human flesh in this modern age? Would it not do quite as well to set fire to a cage of black cats? Surely the burning of cats would create a stench that would smell to high heaven." "Tut, tut," sniffed the Clerical Collar. Then the Venerable Beard spoke up nobly. "The red hand of heresy grapples white faith by the throat. What is the use of all our theological blue laws if the black heart of atheism continues to control our yellow press?" "Softly, softly, Brother," the Threadbare Coat made answer; "It is not charitable, neither is it wise, to bite the hand that feeds the press." "Do not worry," replied the Vest with the Silver Horseshoes. "I never let my theological hand know what my secular hand doeth. Let us proceed to business. The burning of any heretic is good for a headline."