And yet Squire Woodhouse was moved to say to Mr. Alleman:
"It seems to me the doctor begs the question."
CHAPTER IX. THE DOCTRINE OF INSURANCE.
Conversation upon the lesson of the previous Sunday was not confined to the quartette that met at the village post-office. Most of the members of the club went to the city on Monday morning on the little steamer Oak-leaf. The radicals among them were eager for a renewal of the fray, and the orthodox were not at all averse to displaying their defensive abilities. Indeed, President Lottson stood at the wharf, newspaper in hand, for the express purpose of encountering Broker Whilcher, and provoking him to make an attack. The broker finally appeared, accompanied by his wife and children; but the presence of non-combatants did not discourage the Soldier of the Cross, who had been too long in the insurance business to be willing to lose any chance of strengthening his own protection against risk in another world. Broker Whilcher met him boldly; he sent his impedimenta promptly to the rear—to wit, the ladies' saloon—and prepared for the combat which he knew was approaching.
"I suppose you think you whipped us yesterday," said President Lottson, by way of opening shot.
"It was too clear a case to depend upon supposition only," said the broker; "but if you've any doubts on the subject I've no objections to helping defeat you again."
"Seriously, Whilcher," said the president, leading his antagonist to a tête-à-tête, "do you realize what comes of all this nonsense? You profess to be a free-thinker, so I won't ask you to meet me on my own ground, which is that the new dispensation furnishes a substitute for the old; I'll only ask you to look at the matter from your own rationalistic point of view. A man must live up to his beliefs, if he is a man."