"Ah, but that is where you are mistaken," said the minister eagerly. "It matters very much to our Father. We are very precious in His sight. The Almighty----" He was interrupted by a harsh laugh. "Hoh!" cried John McIntyre derisively, "what is the use telling that to a man who knows the world? That's a tale for children and old women! What do you know about the Almighty's care?" His eyes ran fiercely over his visitor. "You! Because you are well fed and well clothed, and prosperous, you think that all the world is the same, and that your God is a miracle of kindness. He may be to you. But there is another side. Your God causes the wicked to prosper, and sees the innocent trampled upon, and never puts forth a hand to help. And you call Him the Almighty! If there is an Almighty, then He takes pleasure in the pain of His creatures. He gives them the good things of this life only that He may take them away and enjoy their suffering. And because your turn hasn't come yet you would make me believe that every one is as well off as yourself. Hoh! Lies! Old women's lies!" The minister stepped back in shocked amazement. He had lived his life among a prosperous, God-fearing people, where such blasphemous words, if ever uttered, were never allowed to reach his ears. Nothing aroused his righteous indignation like a slighting reference to the Master whom he served, and in his quick resentment he forgot the suffering written on John McIntyre's face. "How dare you speak so of your Master?" he demanded hotly. The man laughed again, and the minister broke forth in stern rebuke. People said that when Mr. Scott denounced sin there was something of the fearless candor of the ancient prophets about him. But in this instance he forgot that the greatest Prophet was always gentle and tender in the presence of pain. He denounced John McIntyre roundly for his irreverence, showed him plainly the appalling evil of his ways, and quoted Scripture to prove that he was hastening to everlasting perdition. At the mention of his inevitable destiny John McIntyre interrupted. "Hell!" he shouted. "I've been there for months already!" As he spoke he turned swiftly and caught up an old spade lying by the doorstep. "Get out of my sight!" he hissed fiercely, holding the weapon aloft. "Leave me, or I'll send you where I'm going! Go!" His voice was almost beseeching. "Go, before I do you harm!"