"I will tell you mother," said the student. "The girl was in distress. In some way she had been led to believe that prayers, effective prayers, could bring about any desired result. She simply came to ask us to pray for her father."
Teola was by his side now, reassuringly pressing his arm.
"And where would she go," she broke in suddenly, "if not to a minister's home?"
The pastor's whole family, at least the members that had been submissive--for Babe had always challenged her father's commands--was rising against him. His wife, instead of taking her willful children to task, was weeping; his son and daughter stood beside her refuting every word he said. He brought down his hand with a bang, his eyes narrowing into a slit.
"You will every one do as I say," he cried. "Frederick, you are to stay away from classes for two days, your professors knowing that you have disobeyed your father. If your fellow students ask you why you are absent, you must tell them what I have said. And, you, Teola--"
Frederick stopped the rush of words.
"If I stay away from college two days," he said in a low tone, so deliberate that every word burned into the mother's brain, "I shall never go back again. I am no longer a child and I won't be punished. And what is more, I shall leave your home forever. You may take your choice, father, but not until I make another statement. The girl from the lake asked me to pray for her. That is my intention, and I shall do more if possible. I shall use every bit of influence I have to aid her father to escape hanging.... Also, if you punish Teola, you will never see me again."
Mrs. Graves had risen from her chair. She walked straight to her son--placed her hand upon him.
"Frederick, you wouldn't leave your mother?"
The strong arm pressed about the wearied little form reassuringly.
"And you can bet, papa Graves," put in Babe, "that I'll go with mamma any old day, that's what I will."
Teola stood irresolutely, looking first at Frederick, then at her father. She went toward the minister and almost whispered, "Father, let me speak! The girl came without having been invited by anyone, and she did not stay five minutes. She was drenched through, and cold ... I gave her my cup of coffee, and she stated her errand and went away."
The minister rose, leaving his supper untouched, put on his overcoat, not one remonstrating word coming from his family, and went out.