“Do you know what the school children have done?”
The School-teacher regarded the minister with his deep, calm, gray-blue eyes.
“Yes,” he said.
“Did you know that they were going to do it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you try to prevent it?”
“No.”
The lines in the minister's face hardened.
“That's all I wanted to know,” he said. “It is now perfectly evident that you are no fit person to have charge of school children. The community must get rid of you.”
He turned about in the road, untied his horse, got into his buggy and took up the lines. He raised one of the lines in his cotton-gloved hand to bring it down on the horse's back, but he paused with his arm extended, and turned about toward the School-teacher. He thrust his head to one side. His defective eye straining to see.