"Well, we'll have to stop thinking about it," said Father Ryan. "I might just as well settle down where I am. I certainly will not get very much of a promotion now. By the way, did you notice the big man, covered with mud, in the church?" "No," said Father Fanning, "I did not notice him. Who was he? What about him?" "He was a stranger," said Father Ryan, "and was very pleasant. He is a prospector from New York. He has been up in the mountains and away from church for the last three months. He must have found something up there, because he is going on to New York to meet his backers; at least, that is what I judged from his talk. He is driving over to Caanan to-day to catch the fast train." "I wonder if he put anything in the collection?" said Father Fanning. "No, he did not," answered the pastor, "but he gave it to me afterward and told me to put it in. By the way, here it is." He pulled the note out of his pocket and laid it flat on the table. The three men gasped for breath. It was a thousand dollars. Father Fanning was the first to find words. "Great Scott, Ryan," he said, "you ought to go out and thank God on your knees before the altar. Here is the end of your trouble. Why the man must be a millionaire." Father Ryan's face was all smiles. "Yes," he said, "it is the end of my trouble. I never dreamed it would come to an end so easily. Thanks be to God for it." The little old priest with the book in front of him seemed to have no comment to make. He let his two friends ramble on, both overjoyed at the good fortune that had extricated Father Ryan from his dilemma. But he was not reading. He was thinking. By and by he spoke. "What did you say you preached on to-day, Father Ryan?" "Why," broke in Fanning, "he preached on the Seminary. Didn't I tell you! And a good sermon--" "Yes, I preached on the Seminary," said Father Ryan. "But did I not hear Father Fanning say that you pledged every dollar that came into the collection to the Seminary." "Why, surely," said Father Ryan, "but this did not come in through the collection." "Yes," persisted Father Barry, "but did you not say that the strange man told you to put it into the collection?" "Why--yes--yes, he did say something like that." "Well, then," urged Father Barry, "is it not a question to be debated as to whether or not you can do anything else with the money?" "Oh, confound it all, Barry," cried Father Fanning. "You are a rigorist. You don't understand this case. Now there's no use bringing your old syllogisms into this business. This man is in a hole. He has got to get out of it. What difference is it if I put my money in one pocket or in the other pocket. This all belongs to God anyhow. The thousand dollar note was given to the Church, and the most necessary thing now is to pay the debt on that part of it that's here. Why the Seminary doesn't need it. The old Procurator would drop dead if he got a thousand dollars from this parish."