The master of the house again spoke with the _naïveté_ of unquestioning
bias. "No, Ephraim; for your mother would be the last to interfere with
any for doing righteousness or believing the truth."

Mrs. Croom's slender head trembled and her eyes showed signs of tears at
her son's opposition. "If God-fearing people cannot prevent the most
horrible iniquities from being practised in their own town, the laws are
in a poor condition."

"You have made no candid inquiry concerning Smith, mother; your judgment
of him, whether true or false, is based on angry sentiment and wilful
ignorance."

The preacher sighed. "This Smith is deceiving the people."

"His book," said Ephraim, "is a history of the North American Indians
from the time of the flood until some epoch prior to Columbus. It would
be as difficult to prove that it was not true as to prove that Smith is
not honest in his delusion. We can only fall back upon what Butler would
call 'a strong presumption.'"

Mrs. Croom, consciously or not, made a little sharp rap on the table,
and there was a movement of suppressed misery like a quiver in her
slender upright form. Her voice was low and tremulous. "If you'd got
religion, Ephraim, you wouldn't speak in that light manner of one who
has the awful wickedness of adding to the words of the Book."

Ephraim continued to enlighten the preacher in a stronger tone. "Whether
the man is mad or false, almost all the immoralities that you will hear