“Really now, you can't mean all that.”
The minister brought his thin hand down upon the arm of his chair. His voice rose a little and became sharper as he replied:
“But I do, I do. There is a wave of irreligion sweeping over the world. Most of it is due to the materialistic teaching of the so-called ‘men of science.’ Their absurd theory of evolution, which teaches that man is a brute instead of a son of God, is responsible for a good deal of it.”
Ranville gave a little puzzled shake of his head and looked at the minister as though he was studying a new sort of animal. Then he asked:
“Well, how do you expect to stop all the scientific teaching?”
The minister almost jumped from his chair as he cried:
“We are going to stop it! We must! We have millions of God-fearing people behind us. Before we are through, we will prevent the teaching of evolution by law. Make it a crime to put materialistic theories in the minds of the young.”
Bartley's eyes met those of Ranville and the two men faintly smiled. I looked at the minister, hardly thinking he believed what he was saying. It needed, however, but a glance at the thin face and the fixed determined lips to see that he was in earnest. There was a certain look in his eyes that I did not like—the look of the fanatic. But just when I had thought of that his expression changed and there came a smile around his lips—a smile which made his face almost attractive. He half laughed as he said:
“Well, I was getting started on my hobby. It is all true what I have said. Religion is dying out under the sweep of materialistic things. Why in the ten churches in this town—churches which will seat around four thousand people—there were only 540 in them all last Sunday. But—” He hesitated, and then went on: “But I don't want you to take what I said amiss. I am very sorry Mr. Warren was killed. But in a sense to me it seems that if such a thing had to happen, it was good it came when it did.”
“What do you mean by that?” came Ranville's surprised question.