“I would like to speak to you,” said the priest, for it was he.
“When I get through my duty I shall be glad to speak to you, sir,” and I went on with my work.
This complete, I bade the people good-bye, warning them not to listen to what the devil might say when I was gone. He would very likely say that I had taken their money. I expected to be back in three months, and would then see about building a church. In the meantime I would leave the subscription list with Mr. A. C. Wells, a respected settler whom they all knew.
Going to the door, I met my brother the priest.
“You wish to speak to me, sir,” I said.
“Yes, I want to say that you take all my converts away.”
“I beg your pardon! I didn’t do anything to your converts.”
“But,” he persisted, “these are all my converts that are here.”
“Well, sir, I only preach the Gospel to them, as I do wherever I go,” I replied.
“I don’t care about your Gospel; it’s no good,” and the eyes of the little priest flashed as he continued, “You compel one man to give money to help build your church.”