"
"And this sexton-guy handles the concession for--he's got the say-so,"
he corrected himself hastily--"on who goes in and who stays out. Is
that right?"
"Substantially."
"And he'd rather keep 'em out than let 'em in?"
"Bartholomew," I explained, "considers that the honor of God's Acre is
in his keeping. He has a fierce sort of jealousy about it, as if he had
a proprietary interest in the place."
"I get you!" Mr. Hines's corded throat worked painfully. "You don't
suppose the old goat would slip Min a blackball?" he gulped.
"How can he? As an 'Inalienable'--"
"Yeh; I know. But wasn't there something about a clean record? I'll tell
_you_, Dominie"--Mr. Hines's husky but assured voice trailed away into
a miserable, thick whisper--"as to what he said--about her feet taking
hold on hell--I guess there was a time--I guess about one more slip--I
guess I didn't run across her any too quick. But there never was a
straighter, truer girl than Min was with me. I gotta get her planted
_right_, Dominie. I gotta do it," he concluded with pathetic
earnestness.
"I see no difficulty," I assured him. "The charter specifies '_died_ in
honorable estate.' Matrimony is an honorable estate. How she lived
before that is between her and a gentler Judge than Bartholomew Storrs."
"Give her a straight course and a fair judge and I'll back Min to the
limit," said Mr.
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