left the train together and parted at Martin's drug store with the
understanding that if it didn't rain they would on the coming Saturday
start on that chicken house.

And they did. Frank came home that evening in unusually fine spirits
and asked his wife about the various new people. He told her of his
meeting with the stranger who seemed to know him but whom he did not
remember ever seeing before.

Jennie guessed him to be, "Mrs. Hamilton's husband. I've never seen
him either but they say he's such a pleasant man. They're both
Christian Scientists or something like that and she's ever so nice a
woman. They've only been here a few months but everybody likes them."

"Well," spoke up Frank, still thinking of the pleasant passing of what
was usually a tiresome train trip, "if Christian Science makes a man as
likable and neighborly as that I, for one, approve of Christian
Science. What did you say his name was--Hamilton?"

It was because Frank was so willing to let every man worship his God in
his very own way that Green Valley, that is the religiously watchful
part of it, had decided that Frank was an atheist. For, said these
cautious children of God, "He who is willing to believe in all things
believes in nothing."

But it wasn't religion that the two men talked that Saturday afternoon.
The sun was warm, the lumber dry, the saws sharp and with the work
going smoothly along there was plenty of time for talk, talk on all
manner of subjects.