"What, you get up a prayer-meeting?"
"Yes, so I can go home with her through the woods. I think that after a season of prayer and song she would lean toward me."
"Why not wait for a thunder storm and comfort her between flashes of lightning?"
"I wish I could get up a thunder storm. I'd like for that girl to grab me and choke me half to death. Well, I've got to stir around."
Warren went away, and during all the evening Lyman sat picking a nervous quarrel with himself.
CHAPTER XXX.
The Home.
Lyman saw nothing of Warren the next day, but on the day following he strode into the room, whistling in tuneless good humor.