Peggy frowned at his chuckle that followed.
"'Tis Jesus Christ you be speakin' of. And that's our soul He's a-knockin' at."
"'Tisn't mine," said the old man; "I don't deal in such harticles. I hain't got no soul—don't believe in 'em."
Peggy stood gazing at him with horror.
"You was born with one," she said; "what have you been and done with it?"
He rubbed his head and looked at her with a curious sort of smile.
"What have you done wi' yours?" he demanded.
Peggy's voice hushed.
"I giv' it to the Lord Jesus. Teacher taught me how at Sunday School."
There was a little silence, then Peggy saw her opportunity and seized it.