During the minutes Daddy Skinner lay grappling with death, Ebenezer Waldstricker sat in his handsome drawing room with an open Bible on his knee, talking to his wife.
"I've explained to you time and time again, Helen," said he impatiently, "why I struck her and I'm not sorry I did it."
"It seems awful, though," replied his wife, reflectively.
Waldstricker frowned into the wistful face.
"Why awful when the Bible ordered me to do it? I've given you the Master's own words to verify it. Didn't he say, 'Let the man without sin first cast a stone?'"
Mrs. Waldstricker raised her eyes to her husband's face.
"But Ebenezer--"
"There's no argument, my dear," the man interrupted. "I tell you I know whereof I speak. It came to me like a flash on Wednesday in the church ... I had to show the world a man--a man without sin."
Helen stared back at him in amazement. Her husband had never before expressed himself in quite such bombastic terms, and, oh, dear, she knew he was good; but for any human being to claim to be without sin! She'd never heard of such a thing.
"But, dearest," she argued pleadingly and partly rising, "are you sure?"
"I have no doubt about it," interpolated Ebenezer, striking his chest emphatically. "As I said, I know whereof I speak."
Helen sank down again.
"I'm glad you can explain it, dear," she murmured dubiously. "It'll be easier for you to make Deforrest understand about it when he comes. He's so wrapped up in that girl.... He'll be here in a few minutes, I think, if the train's on time."
"I'll make him understand all right," answered Ebenezer.
The words had scarcely left his lips before both husband and wife heard the approach of sleigh-bells.
"He's coming now," said Mrs. Waldstricker, and she rose and started to the window.
"Sit down and don't look as if you were going to die," her husband commanded. "But perhaps you'd better go to your room while I'm explaining the thing to him."
When Deforrest Young opened the door and walked in, his face was wreathed in smiles.
"Well, hello, everybody," he cried heartily. "It's an awful night."
Ebenezer rose and extended his hand.
"So 'tis," he agreed.
Helen went forward quickly and helped slip the snow-covered coat from Deforrest's shoulders. At the same time she lifted her lips for a kiss. How she adored this brother of hers, and how anxiously she desired he should be satisfied with Ebenezer's account of the church proceedings.
"I'm lucky to be home for Sunday," remarked Deforrest. "I was afraid the case wouldn't close before day after tomorrow. But the jury came in last night, and everything was quickly closed up."