Page:Elmer Gantry (1927).djvu/107

 the pale Frank a little, and pumped the harder. . . and made Frank pump the harder. . . up and down, up and down, up and down. It was agony to the small of his back and shoulders, now growing soft, to labor on the up-grade, where the shining rails toiled round the curves through gravel cuts. But down-hill, swooping toward frosty meadows and the sound of cowbells in the morning sun, he whooped with exhilaration, and struck up a boisterous:

The Schoenheim church was a dingy brown box with a toy steeple, in a settlement consisting of the church, the station, a blacksmith shop, two stores, and half a dozen houses. But at least thirty buggies were gathered along the rutty street or in the carriage-sheds behind the church; at least seventy people had come to inspect their new pastor; and they stood in gaping circles, staring between frosty damp mufflers and visored fur caps.

"I'm scared to death!" murmured Frank, as they strode up the one street from the station, but Elmer felt healthy, proud, expansive. His own church, small but somehow—somehow different from these ordinary country meeting-houses—quite a nice-shaped steeple—not one of these shacks with no steeple at all! And his people, waiting for him, their attention flowing into him and swelling him—

He threw open his overcoat, held it back with his hand imperially poised on his left hip, and let them see not only the black broadcloth suit bought this last summer for his ordination but something choice he had added since—elegant white piping at the opening of his vest.

A red-faced mustached man swaggered up to greet them, "Brother Gantry? And Brother Shallard? I'm Barney Bains, one of the deacons. Pleased to meet you. The Lord give power to your message. Some time since we had any preachin' here, and I guess we're all pretty hungry for spiritual food and the straight gospel. Bein' from Mizpah, I guess there's no danger you boys believe in this open communion!"

Frank had begun to worry, "Well, what I feel is—" when