minister in the pulpit as the roads get for a dray driver and I'd
appreciate it to have a friend like you along. I never know when I'll
need a lift and a little help that you could give. Sometimes we have
to move the Sunday-school organ about and there are windows that stick
and all manner of things about a church that only a practiced mover and
driver could do. You know the janitor is rather old and infirm and as
for me--well, Hank, when you come down to it, that's about all we
ministers are, just movers. Our business is to help find just the
right and happiest places for people, to show them their part in the
game of life and keep them from bruising themselves and others. I'm
doing about the same sort of work as you are; that's why I'm asking you
to come along with me."

"Well--if you put it that way,--" murmured Hank, still miserable, "why,
maybe I could drop in. Billy's ordered me a new suit and so--"

"That settles it then, Hank. For there's no sense in getting a new
suit unless you go out in it. And there's no sense in going out unless
you have some definite place to go to. Why, half the people get
clothes just to go to church and the other half go to church just to
wear their clothes. I'll expect you. You can sit comfortably in the
back and watch things and tell me later what you think of the way
things are managed here. You'll see things from the door that I never
see from the pulpit."

Hank went to church in a pair of shoes that squeaked agonizingly and a
suit of clothes that was a marvel of mail-order device. He also wore a
Stetson hat that was new when he entered the church door but which,
through nervous manipulation, aged terribly in that first half hour.