The word "caught," so expressive of the American's relation to the
wanderer, roused Trenholme's attention, and he asked now with interest,
"May I inquire why you did take possession of him and bring him here?"

"Well, as to that, I don't know that I'd like to tell," said the young
man, frankly. "Since I've lived with him I've seen my reasons to be none
of the best." He fidgeted now, rising, cap in hand. "I ought to go and
look after him," he said, "if I only knew where to go."

It struck Trenholme that Harkness had an idea where to go, and that his
questioning was really a prelude to its announcement. "Where do _you_
think he has gone?"

"Well, if you ask me what I think, Principal--but, mind, I haven't a
word of proof of it--I think he's gone up the mountain, and that he's
not gone there alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I think drunken Job's wife, and old McNider, and some more
of the Second Advent folks, will go with him, expecting to be caught
up."

"Impossible!" cried Trenholme, vehemently. Then more soberly, "Even if
they had such wild intentions, the weather would, of course, put a stop
to it."

Harkness did not look convinced. "Job's threatened to beat his wife to
death if she goes, and it's my belief she'll go."