"Do you live in the city?" There was a frown of stern inquiry on the broad forehead; but the head was bending farther forward.
"No," said Jack, "I live in Crofield."
"Where's that?"
"Away up on the Cocahutchie River. I came here early this morning."
"What's your name?"
"John Ogden."
"Come with me, John Ogden. You may have a seat in my pew. Come."
Into the church and up the middle aisle Jack followed his leader, with a sense of awe almost stifling him; then, too, he felt drowned in the thunderous flood of music from the organ. He saw the man stop, open a pew-door, step back, smile and bow, and then wait until the boy from Crofield had passed in and taken his seat.
"He's a gentleman," thought Jack, hardly aware that he himself had bowed low as he went in, and that a smile of grim approval had followed him.
In the pew behind them sat another man, as haughty looking, but just now wearing the same kind of smile as he leaned forward and asked in an audible whisper: