Spectacle John sniffed. "Huh! That young Graham, that teached here before her, was loony on the same notion. He's sit up half the night argifyin' with me that the earth was spinnin' 'round like a dog after its tail. I uster ask him how it was we didn't tumble off when we was danglin', head downward, in the dark, an' that uster to give him the blind staggers every time. He was a terror for argifyin', though, that chap; an' one night he got me to give in that it was mebby round like a cheese and us livin' on the flat top. It was in Sawed-Off Wilmott's cheese factory he was shootin' off that time. Well, I went that far, but further than that there's no livin' man'll get me to go."
A tall figure had crossed the bridge and was nearing the group. There was a perceptible stir, and all conversation ceased. "'Ere's the minister," said Silas Long. "We'd better get started."
"Mr. Scott's been tryin' all day to get a light job for that McIntyre," said Jake Sawyer innocently, "but he don't seem to've got anything easy enough yet."
Uncle Hughie darted a warning glance at the indiscreet miller, but it was too late.
"He'll be well looked after, then, I'm thinkin'," said Sandy, promptly rising. "There'll be no need o' me goin' with ye the night, Hughie. Maister Scott'll likely give him a job in"—he paused to let the heavy weight of his sarcasm fall resoundingly—"in Muskoky!"
He tramped away, and, climbing the fence, strode across the fields in the direction of his mill.
"Ain't 'e a caution, now?" asked Silas Long in a tone of fear. "You mark my words, now—jist mark my words—that man's goin' to meet a judgment some day. It ain't safe to act like that to the minister, that's wot it ain't."
"Fine night," the assembly remarked unanimously. Mr. Scott was a good-looking man of middle age, tall and straight, with a massive head, covered with thick iron-gray hair. He had deep blue eyes, with little lines at their corners showing they were prone to kindly laughter.
"What's the question to-night?" he asked, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Have you found a new star, Silas?"
"Eh, eh, mebby, mebby," answered Uncle Hughie. "If it is, it seems to be a fallen one, whatever. We would jist be talkin' about yon poor body we're goin' to see. Come away, now."