The young man fairly frothed at the mouth: "Do you mean to tell me that
there is no one can mend a broken machine around this forsaken dump?
Where's your nearest garage? Send for a man to come at once. I'm
willing to pay anything," he flourished a handful of bills.

The minister looked at his watch anxiously: "I'm sorry," he said again,
"I've got to go to the service now. There is a garage at Monopoly and
their number is 97-M. You can phone them if you are not satisfied. I
tried them quite early this morning while you were still sleeping, but
there was nothing doing. The truth is the people around this region are
a little prejudiced against working seven days out of the week,
although they will help a man out in a case like yours when they can,
but it seems the repair man, the only one who knows about bearings, has
gone fifty miles in another direction to a funeral and won't be back
till to-morrow morning. Now, if you're quite comfortable I'll have to
leave you for a little while. It is time for my service to begin."

The young man looked at his host with astonishment. He was not used to
being treated in this off-hand way. He could hardly believe his ears.
Throw back his money and lay down the law that way!

"Wait!" he thundered as the door was about to close upon the departing
minister.

Severn turned and regarded his guest quietly, questioningly:

"Who's that girl over there in the window playing the organ?" He pulled
the curtain aside and revealed a glimpse of the white and gold saint
framed in the ivy. Severn gave a swift cold glance at the insolent