“Your position will be open to you, at thirty-five dollars per month, whenever you can come back;� he said.
But Wycliff was never to return.
CHAPTER II.
“GOOD afternoon, Mr. Moriarty.�
It was Deacon Surface who spoke, a gentleman who owed such influence as he possessed to the fact that he was an agent of the Baldwins, collecting their rents, superintending in a general way some of their enterprises, and administering their local charities.
He was a man of excellent intentions, but shallow. One of his best friends thus described him:—“The Deacon has as many sides as a barrel. He doesn’t want to make any enemies, but when he is cornered, he will roll toward the money every time. If the Deacon were a judge, and a man were brought before him charged with stealing one hundred dollars, and the charge were proved, he would order the money divided equally between the thief and his victim. That is just about his idea of justice.�
The Deacon’s critics, if put in his place, would perhaps do no better than he. Being the personal and confidential agent of the Baldwins, he must accept their ideas of right and wrong, adopt their conscience, as it were, or else surrender a fat job such as seldom comes to a man of common ability.
“The top of the afternoon to you!� replied the Irishman addressed, whose traits were quite different from the Deacon’s.
“Of course you are going to vote for Jacob Sharp for Selectman,� remarked the Deacon.
“The divil a bit will I vote for Jake Sharp for any office, Deacon Surface.�