"Why, what do you mean?"

"Don't you know? Didn't you hear about what happened on the river this
afternoon? Tim went there on purpose to meet the parson, and strike up a
race. He's been boasting for some time that he would do it. The Lord has
given that man much rope, and has suffered him long. But this was too
much, and He's tripped him up at last."

"Peter Brown," and the woman held up her hands in astonishment, "how can
you say such a thing about your old neighbour, and in his house, too, with
him lying there in that condition?"

"I'm only saying what the rest know and think," was the calm reply. "I've
told Tim time and time again right to his face that the Lord would settle
with him some day. 'Tim,' said I, and it was not later than last fall that
I said it, 'Tim, the Lord has been good to you. He's blessed you in every
way. You've health, strength, and a good home. And what have you done for
Him? What have you given in return? Nothing. You curse, revile and scorn
Him on the slightest pretext. It's not only mean, Tim, but you'll get
punished some day, and don't you forget it.' But he only swore at me, and
told me to shut up and mind my own business and he would mind his. But my
words have come true, and I guess Tim sees it at last."

Dan was sitting bolt upright now, with his hands clenched and eyes staring
hard at the speaker. The words had gone straight to his little heart, with
terrible, stinging intensity. This man was saying what Farrington and the
parson had said. It must be true. But the idea of the punishment was
something new. He had never thought of that before.