"I don't mean anything crude," Mr. Plimpton protested. "But a word from
the chief layman of a diocese like this, a man who never misses a General
Convention, and does everything handsomely, might count,--particularly if
they're already thinking of Hodder. The bishops would never suspect we
wanted to get rid of him."

"Well," said Langmaid, "I advise you to go easy, all along the line."

"Oh, I'll go easy enough," Mr. Plimpton assented, smiling. "Do you
remember how I pulled off old Senator Matthews when everybody swore he
was dead set on voting for an investigation in the matter of those coal
lands Mr. Parr got hold of in his state?"

"Matthews isn't Hodder, by a long shat," said Langmaid. "If you ask me
my opinion, I'll tell you frankly that if Hodder has made up his mind to
stay in St. John's a ton of dynamite and all the Eldon Parrs in the
nation can't get him out."

"Can't the vestry make him resign?" asked Mr. Plimpton, uncomfortably.

"You'd better, go home and study your canons, my friend. Nothing short
of conviction for heresy can do it, if he doesn't want to go."

"You wouldn't exactly call him a heretic," Mr. Plimpton said ruefully.

"Would you know a heretic if you saw one?" demanded Langmaid.

"No, but my wife would, and Gordon Atterbury and Constable would, and
Eldon Parr. But don't let's get nervous."