"No, Jess, I didn't go to sleep," he drawled. "But I guess them kids at home'll be sleepy if we don't hustle back. An' say, I fergot to tell Zeb to feed Jerry, blamed if I didn't."
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE HOLD-UP
There was great discussion over the sermon preached at St. Felix Sunday night. Several people were very angry at the outspoken words, among whom was Henry Whittles. He made haste to see Lawyer Rackshaw, and poured out to him his troubles, and how he had been grossly insulted.
"It serves you right," was the unsympathetic reply he received. "If you will insist upon going to church you must not complain at what is handed out to you. I've cut loose from all such superstitious and sentimental gush, and I advise you to do the same."
"I intend to do so while that idiot is there," Whittles declared. "And to think that Abner Andrews was at church, too."
"He was!" and the lawyer looked his astonishment.
"Yes; and his family as well. Miss Rivers, the Attorney General's daughter, was with them, too, so I believe. Abner will have something to chuckle over now, all right."
"Let him chuckle, Hen. He won't do it long. Just wait till that trial comes off."
"When is that?"