"You mean that sort of a preacher what comes 'round here," said the sheriff.
"Yes, sir; the priest. We call him Father to show our respect for him."
"I seen him down on the Green river, long on five years ago. He come into Medley's store tol'ably late one night, and was half froze—had been out some forty miles or so to see a sick person. Medley, he's a Catholic, and kept the preacher over all night. He set down at the stove and began to tell us stories. He beats all I've seen for that kind of work, even Squire Grundy, 'cept he didn't lie like the squire. Well, what did the preacher say about you and me and the shootin'-match?"
"He called me David, and you Goliath."
"Go-go-who?"
"Goliath—the big man—the giant."
"Live 'round this here part of the country?" inquired Mr. Lane.
"No-o-o-o!" exclaimed Owen, with a prolonged and evident surprise.
"Never heard of him before," said the visitor.
"Father Byrne brought me a book which tells all about David and Goliath. Here it is," he continued, as he took a small illustrated Bible history from a table and held it in the dim light of a tallow candle.