The Unknown Wrestler Part 5

Garton detected the note of bitterness in his companion's voice, and did not question him any further just then. When at length within the house, and taken possession of by the Garton "kids"--two boys and a girl--Douglas became entirely changed. There was a lively romp first of all, and it was with difficulty that Mrs. Garton could induce the children to release their victim long enough to come to dinner. Then, at the table there was a contest as to who should sit next to the guest.

It was a happy family into which Douglas had entered. This was the one home in the whole city where he could feel perfectly at his ease, for he knew that he was sincerely welcome. Ever since his coming to St.

Margaret's, Charles Garton had been his firm friend. Notwithstanding his big legal practice, this brilliant lawyer was always ready and willing to a.s.sist the young curate, and Douglas found it a great comfort to go to him for advice.

"I am afraid that I am a great intruder to-night," he told Mrs. Garton.

"But you must blame your husband this time."

"I shall absolve him from all his past sins for bringing you," was the smiling reply. "We were afraid that you were going to leave the city without coming to bid us good-bye."

"I hope I am not so ungrateful as that, after all your kindness to me."

"We shall miss you very much, Mr. Stanton. I hardly know how the children will get along without you."

"Oh, I shall drop in on you one of these days when you're least expecting me."

"Are you going far away?"

"Merely to Rixton."

"Rixton!" Mr. Garton exclaimed.

"Yes, why not? Some one must go there."

"Do you know anything about the place?"

"Very little. I have been told that it is a hard parish, and that the last rector was forced to leave."

"I should say it is. Why, they've killed several men there already, and do you want to be added to the number?"

"Killed them! did you say?" Douglas asked in surprise. "I never heard it was as bad as that."

"Oh, well, they didn't actually kill them, but they tried to do so, it appears, and you know what the Bible says about having murder in the heart."

Douglas made no reply to these words but went on with his dinner. It was only when he and Mr. Garton were comfortably ensconced in big chairs in the library, enjoying a quiet smoke, that Douglas referred to the subject which had been abruptly dropped.

"Do you know much about Rixton?" he asked.

"Quite a bit, from hearsay. It's a queer community, so I understand, and the Church has had a mighty hard struggle there."

"What's wrong with it, anyway?"

"I can't exactly say. But no clergyman has been able to hold his own there for years. It may have been their fault, and perhaps if the right man goes to the parish, things might be all right. I wish to goodness you were going anywhere else than to Rixton. I wonder what the Bishop is thinking about to send you to that place."

"Merely because he thinks that I know the ways of such people, as I was brought up in the country."

"We want you here in the city, though," and Garton savagely blew a great cloud of smoke across the room.

"But Dr. Rannage and the majority of the people of St. Margaret's don't want me. They are delighted to think that I am going."

"Yes, so I understand, confound their skins! They want some little snipper-snapper who can dance attendance upon all the pink-teas that are held, and s.h.i.+ne in social circles."

"I could not suit them," Douglas slowly explained, "because the spirit of adventure runs in my veins. I would like to be a prospector or an explorer, and launch out into the unknown. As soon as I entered the Ministry, I looked around for some untouched field in which to enter.

The complex life along the water-front appealed to me more than the conventional work in St. Margaret's. There are great opportunities there, especially during the winter season. But, alas! my plans have been overturned, and I must give it all up. I have often thought of the mission field, and when an opening occurs I hope to go. At present the parish of Rixton is without a clergyman, and most likely it will remain so for some time unless I go. It is a very difficult parish, so I understand, and it accordingly appeals to me. I am quite curious to know just what is the trouble, and in what way it is different from other country districts. Have you any idea?"

"It is somewhat of a puzzle to me," Garton replied. "It really should be an ideal parish, for nearly all of the people belong to our Church.

Mr. Stubbles himself is a member, and senior warden, so I believe."

"You know him, then?"

"Yes, in a way. I have had some business dealings with him, and incidentally I have talked with him about Church affairs at Rixton. He has always seemed greatly interested."

"And he laid the blame, I suppose, upon the clergymen?"

"Invariably. He said they did not understand country people, and could not adapt themselves to their ways, but held severely aloof."

"There must be some other cause," Douglas mused, "and I must find out what it is."

"When do you expect to go?" Garton enquired.

"To-morrow."

"What! so soon! Why not take a holiday? You certainly need it, if any one does."

"I have asked for two months. I told the Bishop this afternoon that only on that understanding would I take charge of Rixton."

"But you have just told me that you are going there to-morrow!" Garton exclaimed.

Douglas laughed.

"Look here, old man, I have a plan, and I want to tell it to you, if you will promise that you will not speak of it to any one except your wife. I know she will keep the secret."

"And I guess I can, too," Garton a.s.sented. "I keep a good many for my clients, and one more will not overburden me."

"I am going to spend my vacation in Rixton," Douglas explained. "What do you think of that?"

"What do you mean?" Garton asked in surprise.

"Simply that I am going there as an ordinary farmhand and work for my living for two months."

"Good heavens!" Garton was so astonished at this revelation that he knocked the ashes from his cigar over his clothes. "Are you going crazy, Stanton? What will the Bishop and the people of Rixton think of such a thing?"

"They are not to know anything about it until it is all over. You and Mrs. Garton will be the only ones who will be aware of this freak of mine, so if I get killed, you might give me a decent burial."

"Suppose in case of your death it should be considered wilful suicide, what then?" Garton asked, while an amused twinkle shone in his eyes.

"We won't be able to get any one to read the Burial Service over you."

"Oh, I don't believe it will be as bad as that. The people won't know that I am a clergyman, and they will not think it worth while to bother a farm-hand. I shall be just plain John Handyman to them, and nothing more."

"What put such a notion into your head, anyhow?" Garton enquired.