They sat in silence for several minutes. The sun was now a great bleeding ball of crimson. Leach's big hands were locked over his knee. Now and then his lips moved as if in prayer. He smiled; he laughed; he chuckled. The sun sank lower and finally went out of sight. The sky along the horizon was an ocean of pink and purple, with shores of shimmering opal.
"Forgive me, brother." Leach turned his soft glance on his companion. "You don't want to talk, I reckon, but the Lord has given me the power to sort o' feel human trouble. I can see it in your face and feel it ooze out of your body like a sad, murky stream. I don't want to part with you to-night without helping you if I can. I wouldn't talk this way if I hadn't helped hundreds. I never have failed where they would open their hearts plumb wide. All I'd want to know would be what particular thing was standing in your way. Something must be in the way. You may think it strange, but I can almost feel it hanging over you, like a thing that ought to be jerked off."
Mostyn was tempted to reply, but he said nothing. Half an hour passed. It was growing cool, damp, and darker. He rose to go. The preacher stood up with him, and grasped his hand.
"I may never see you again, brother," he said, "and I'm sorry, for I feel drawn powerful close to you somehow. I'd like nothing better than to have you along with me. I'm going to leave this part of the country pretty soon. I want to see more of God's beautiful world. I've always wanted to go to California, and I'm going to do it now."
"That will be fine," Mostyn remarked. "I am going somewhere soon myself. I don't know where, but somewhere."
"You'd better come along with me," the preacher said, eagerly. "We could pull together all right. I'd do my best to make you happy. I'd hammer at you till you saw the truth that has lifted me out o' the mire. God loves you, brother—He really does, and you will find it out some day. The worst sin in the world is simply not knowing God's goodness. It is as plentiful as rain and air. What do you say? Couldn't we go together?"
Mostyn was fairly thrilled by the idea. It was a strange suggestion, and appealed to him strongly. There was a soothing quality about the man that attracted him beyond anything else. "When do you leave?" he asked.
"In a couple of weeks. I wish you would go—by Jacks, I do! I know when I like a man, and I like you. I don't want to part from you like this. What do you say?"
"I'll think over it," Mostyn promised. "Shall you be in Atlanta again this summer?"
"I'll leave from there," Leach answered. "I have to go there to draw a little money that is coming to me."