All this time the lots continued to sell beyond our expectations; and by the end of the year we had advanced the price of lots one hundred per cent., and were considering another advance. We did not think it fair to the sweltering Chicago public to advance the price without giving it a chance to get the advantage of our fresh air and pure water at the old price, so we told them of the contemplated rise. We let them know it by means of bill-boards and newspapers and circular letters and magazines; and a great many people gladly availed themselves of our thoughtfulness and our guarantee that we would advance the price twenty-per cent, on the first day of June.
So many, in fact, bought lots before the advance that we had none left to advance. Perkins came to me one morning, with tears in his eyes, and explained that we had made a promise, and could not keep it. We had agreed to advance the lots twenty per cent., and we had nothing to advance.
“Well, Perky,” I said, “it is no use crying. What is done is done. Are you sure there are no lots left?”
“William,” he said, seriously, “we think a great deal of these churches, don't we?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “We do! We think an ennobling religious atmosphere—” But he cut me short.
“William,” he said, “do you know what we are doing? We talk about our ennobling religious atmosphere, but we are standing in the path of progress. A mighty wave of reform is sweeping through Christendom. The new religious atmosphere is sweeping out the old religious atmosphere. I can feel it. Brotherly love is knocking out the sects. Shall Cloverdale cling to the old, or shall it stand as the leader in the movement for a reunited Church?”
I clasped Perkins's hand.
“A tabernacle!” I cried.
“Right!” exclaimed Perkins. “Why ten conflicting churches? Why not one grand meeting-place—all faiths—no creeds! Bring the people closer together—spread an ennobling religious atmosphere that is worth talking about!”
“Perkins,” I said, “what you have done for religion will not be forgotten.”