tactfully, "Perhaps you would let me go with you?"

Here was indeed a startling proposition! His costume, his long
hair--there were many things about him not adapted to Broadway at
five o'clock in the afternoon! But what could I say? It would be
rude to call attention to his peculiarities. All I could manage was
to stammer: "I thought you belonged in the church."

"Do I?" he replied, with a puzzled look. "I'm not sure. I have been
wondering--am I really needed here? And am I not more needed in the
world?"

"Well," said I, "there's one thing certain." I pointed up to the
window. "That hole is conspicuous."

"Yes, that is true."

"And if it should rain, the altar would be ruined. The Reverend Dr.
Lettuce-Spray would be dreadfully distressed. That altar cloth was
left to the church in the will of Mrs. Elvina de Wiggs, and God
knows how many thousands of dollars it cost."

"I suppose that wouldn't do," said the stranger. "Let us see if we
can't find something to put there."

He started up the aisle, and through the chancel. I followed, and we
came into the vestry-room, and there on the wall I noticed a full
length, life-sized portrait of old Algernon de Wiggs, president of
the Empire National Bank, and of the Western City Chamber of
Commerce. "Let us see if he would fill the place," said the