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They were all moving upon a common goal, as though drawn thither by the irresistible attraction of a magnet. From the lower reaches of the village, toward the eastern river, that better class residential quarter, where the houses, four in number, of Mrs. John Day, of Billy Unguin, of Allan Dy, and the local blacksmith were located, an extremely decorous cortege emerged.
"It's just as you say, ma'm," he cried. "And I say right here that ridge pole should be in one piece. It's bad. In a few years' time we'll surely have to rebuild that roof." He sat down with a jolt, and glared fiercely at his friend beside him. Billy Unguin was on his feet in a moment. "I want to say right here that my friend's been sorting mail so long he's got nervous.
These were the postmaster, Allan Dy, and Billy Unguin, the dry-goods man, and the patriarch church robber known as Holy Dick. The only other occupant of the bar was Charlie Bryant. He had come there earlier in the evening for no other purpose than to hear how the town was taking the arrival of the police, and to glean, if possible, any news of the contemplated movements of Stanley Fyles.
Day thrust on her bonnet, and, with every artificial flower in its crown shaking with indignation, set out to "round-up" the members. O'Brien was impossible. His trade was too overwhelming to be left in the hands of a mere bartender, but there was less excuse for Billy Unguin and Allan Dy, who were merely drinkers in the place.
She beamed pleasantly upon her audience, two men balancing themselves upon the open floor joists of the new church. "It's a real work of art. It's going to be swell, and the folks should be just proud of it." Billy Unguin smiled confidently. "Oh, the folks'll be proud of it all right, all right," he said.
Dy says, and it's necessary, as Mr. Unguin points out, to cut down that tree to fix our church right why, it's going to be cut down. That's all." She paused dramatically, but not long enough for anybody to interrupt her.
She only trusted that superstition would prevail, and the aged landmark would be left standing. She somehow felt doubtful, however, now that Mrs. Day had taken sides against her, and she hurried off to avoid further discussion. Billy Unguin arrived at the saloon alone. Allan Dy's course was diverted when he came within sight of his post office.
The draperies, necessary for the interior, would be made by the busy needles of the women of the village, and the materials would be supplied by Billy Unguin, the dry goods storekeeper. As for the stipend of the officiating parson, that would be scrambled together in cash and kind from similar sources.
It means a join in the ridge pole. That's what it means. And that ain't architecture, Master Billy smarty Unguin." Kate ran her eye over the offending length. The man's point seemed obvious. "It certainly looks like a join," she admitted unwillingly. For a moment Billy was disconcerted. But his inventive faculties quickly supplied him with a way out. Anyway, he could break up the other's argument.
That the main body is too long, and that the ridge pole of the roof will have to be joined in several places. This means a great weakness that'll have to be supported by central columns, which will obstruct the central gangway and the general view. I'd like Mr. Unguin and Mr. Dy to discuss the matter before the meeting." Thus challenged, Allan Dy sprang to his feet.
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