"And would you believe it, nearly all of them held up their hands. Some of the old women shouted! Mrs. Sasnett said it resembled a love-feast. She said they crowded around Mrs. Walton as if--well, as if she'd been a preacher!" He sighed and looked at Coleman, who made no comment. He was chairman of the Board of Stewards in the Jordantown church, and he was making a rapid mental calculation of the deficit that was likely to occur. "Of course," Stacey went on, "they were excited. There will be a reaction when we remind them of their vows to support the institutions of the church. But what am I to do, meanwhile? I have not taken any collections for this year." "Don't take them now!" said Coleman quickly. "It may be worse later on. You know that Miss Adams has been canvassing the county for weeks, arranging those Co-Citizens' Leagues in every voting precinct. I hear that she has made capital out of that failure in Porter County where they tried to float a bond issue to secure a full school term. The men voted it down, especially the farmers. Claimed that they needed the children to work the crops and gather them. She's using that to prove that we need compulsory education in this county and that we'll never get it until the women can vote." "I don't know what Marshall Adams can be thinking of, allowing his daughter to get into this mess!" said Coleman. Stacey looked at him. He wondered if this man knew how deep his own wife was in the same "mess." "I suppose you have heard that they are getting ready for a big mass meeting here?" he ventured. "That so?" "Going to announce their plans, I hear." "Well, I hope they do. When we know what they are up to, we will know how to stop them." "You think we can?" "Certainly! Can women force us to the polls, or compel us to vote for this silly measure? Besides, the state constitution is a perfect protection; only males can vote. This is all a form of feminine hysteria, Stacey; it's bound to pass. Just sit tight in the boat and wait. I don't mind telling you that the trustees of this--d--er--this Foundation are spending their income like water. When that gives out, they'll be at the end of their tether. They can't touch the principal." "But they might borrow on it," Stacey put in doubtfully as he arose to take his departure. This was a devilish possibility of which Coleman had not thought. He was angry with Stacey for suggesting it. "Damphule to leave the church with Susan Walton in it!" he grumbled as he went upstairs. Agatha was already in bed. She lay with her hands crossed above the coverlid, her eyes closed, her face resting upon the pillow as serene as the epitaph of a good woman on a large white tombstone. He undressed stealthily. He would no more have disturbed her than he would have thrust a thorn in his side. He turned out the light and lay down beside her, scarcely allowing himself the relief of a sigh.