himself. 'It has been a hot trail, too, if I do say it who shouldn't.
If he has had a full breath for the last forty-eight hours, I am
ashamed of myself.'

"'But what in the world--'

"'Let's duck into the station a minute. I know the freight agent and
he will hide me in a trunk if need be. I will tell you about it. It
is enough to make your blood run cold.'

"Honestly, it was running cold already. Here was literature for the
asking. Kirke's wild appearance, his furtive manner, the searching
sheriff--a plot made to order. So I tried to forget the M. E.
Universal, and we slipped into the station and seated ourselves
comfortably on some egg boxes in a shadowy corner where he told his
sad, sad tale.

"'Connie, you keep a wary eye on the world, the flesh and the devil. I
know whereof I speak. Other earth-born creatures may flirt with sin
and escape unscathed. But the Lord is after the minister's son.'

"'I thought it was the sheriff after you?' I interrupted.

"'Well, so it is, technically. And the devil is after the sheriff, but
I think the Lord is touching them both up a little to get even with me.
Anyhow, between the Lord and the devil, with the sheriff thrown in,
this world is no place for a minister's son. And the rule works on
daughters, too.

"'You know, Connie, I have received the world with open hands, a loving