Page:Elmer Gantry (1927).djvu/119

 "Personally, I'm much inclined to agree with you," Elmer gloated. "But, anyway, we can safely leave it to the mercy of God to take care of wobblers and cowards and gas-bags like these alleged advanced thinkers. When they treacherously weaken our efforts at soul-saving out here in the field, and go in for a lot of cussing and discussing and fussing around with a lot of fool speculation that don't do anybody any practical good in the great work of bringing poor sufferin' souls to peace, why then I'm too busy to waste my time on 'em, that's all, and I wouldn't care one bit if they heard me and knew it! Fact, that's the only trouble with Brother Shallard here—I know he has the grace of God in his heart, but he will waste time worrying over a lot of doctrines when everything's set down in Baptist tradition, and that's all you need to know. I want you to think about that, Frank—"

Elmer had recovered. He enjoyed defying lightning, provided it was lightning no more dynamic than Frank was likely to furnish. He looked at Frank squarely. . . . It was perhaps half an hour since their talk in the bedroom.

Frank opened his mouth twice, and closed it. Then it was too late. Deacon Bains was already overwhelming him with regeneration and mince pie.

Lulu was at the other end of the table from Elmer. He was rather relieved. He despised Frank's weakness, but he was never, as with Eddie Fislinger, sure what Frank would do or say, and he determined to be cautious. Once or twice he glanced at Lulu intimately, but he kept all his conversation (which, for Lulu's admiration, he tried to make learned yet virile) for Mr. Bains and the other deacons.

"There!" he reflected. "Now Shallard, the damned fool, ought to see that I'm not trying to grab off the kid. . . . If he makes any breaks about 'what are my intentions' to her, I'll just be astonished, and get Mr. Frank Shallard in bad, curse him and his dirty sneaking suspicions!"

But: "God, I've got to have her!" said all the tumultuous smoky beings in the lowest layer of his mind, and he answered them only with an apprehensive, "Watch out! Be careful! Dean Trosper would bust you! Old Bains would grab his shotgun. . . . Be careful! . . . Wait!"