The Elder continued, "These things follow a minister all his life. We cannot recommend a man of bad repute to our sister churches; it would reflect upon us."
"For the same reason that you keep in a high office in the church a man who is an unrepentant thief?" said Dan.
The Elder rose. "Really, Brother Matthews, I cannot listen to such words about our Elder!"
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Dan huskily. "I was thinking aloud. Please tell me one thing more. I have here a letter from a church in Chicago asking me to consider a call. Have the Elders received a letter from them?"
"Ahem! Yes, we considered it at that same meeting."
"And you have written them?"
"We could not recommend you. I am sorry, Brother Matthews."
"I believe you are," said Dan slowly. "Thank you."
When the Elder was gone Dan turned sadly back to his little study; the study that had come to stand so for everything to which he had devoted his life with such holy purpose, for which he had sacrificed so much.
Slowly he went to his desk and looked down upon the work scattered over it. Taking up the two letters he tore them slowly into fragments and dropped them into the waste basket. Then as slowly he turned to his books, touching many of the familiar volumes with a caressing hand. Then he went to the table where lay his church papers and the missionary pamphlets and reports. The envelope from Judge Strong caught his eye.