Nobody knew, and finally the acceptance of the gift was referred to a committee consisting of the Chairman of the Finance Committee, the Chairman of the Music Committee, and myself, with full power to act. Inquiry showed that the cost of every item in connection with the acceptance of the gift would amount to about a thousand dollars, and we called upon Carson to complete the arrangement. He received us cordially. We thanked him for his generosity, and were about to accept the gift finally, when the Chairman of the Finance Committee said: "It is very good of you, Mr. Carson, to give us this organ. Heaven knows we need it, but it will cost us about a thousand dollars to put it in." "So I judged," said Carson. "But when it is in you'll have a thirty-five-hundred-dollar organ." "Splendid!" ejaculated the Chairman of the Music Committee. "The great difficulty that now confronts us," said the financier, "is as to how we shall raise that money. The church is very poor." "I presume it is a good deal of a problem in these times," acquiesced Carson. "Ah--" "It's a most baffling one," continued the financier. "I suppose, Mr. Carson," he added, "that if we do put it in and pass around a subscription paper, we can count on you for--say two hundred and fifty dollars?" I stood aghast, for I saw the thread of Carson's philosophy snap. "What?" he said, with an effort to control himself. "I say I suppose we can count on you for a subscription of two hundred and fifty dollars," repeated the financier. There was a pause that seemed an eternity in passing. Carson's face worked convulsively, and the seeming complacency of the Chairman of the Finance Committee gave place to nervous apprehension as he watched the color surge through the cheeks and temples of our host. He thought Carson was about to have a stroke of apoplexy. I tried to think of something to say that might relieve the strain, but it wouldn't come, and on the whole I rather enjoyed the spectacle of the strong philosopher struggling with inclination, and I think the philosopher might have conquered had not the Chairman of the Music Committee broken in jocularly with: "Unless he chooses to make it five hundred dollars, eh?" And he grinned maddeningly as he added: "If you'll give five hundred dollars we'll put a brass plate on it and call it 'The Carson Memorial,' eh? Ha--ha--ha." Carson rose from his seat, walked into the hall and put on his hat. "Mr.--ah--Blank," said he to the financier, "would you and Mr. Hicks mind walking down to the church with me?" "Say, he's going to put it in for us!" whispered Hicks, the Chairman of the Music Committee, rubbing his hands gleefully. "Don't you want me, Carson?" I asked, rising. "No--you stay here!" he replied, shortly. And then the three went out, while I lit a cigar and pottered about Carson's library. In half an hour he returned alone. His face was red and his hand trembled slightly, but otherwise he had regained his composure.