V
For years Elmer had had a waking nightmare of seeing Jim Lefferts sitting before him in the audience, scoffing. It would be a dramatic encounter and terrible; he wasn’t sure but that Jim would speak up and by some magic kick him out of the pulpit.
But when, that Sunday morning, he saw Jim in the third row, he considered only, “Oh, Lord, there’s Jim Lefferts! He’s pretty gray. I suppose I’ll have to be nice to him.”
Jim came up afterward to shake hands. He did not look cynical; he looked tired; and when he spoke, in a flat prairie voice, Elmer felt urban and urbane and superior.
“Hello, Hellcat,” said Jim.
“Well, well, well! Old Jim Lefferts! Well, by golly! Say, it certainly is a mighty great pleasure to see you, my boy! What you doing in this neck of the woods?”
“Looking up a claim for a client.”
“What you doing now, Jim?”
“I’m practising law in Topeka.”
“Doing pretty well?”
“Oh, I can’t complain. Oh, nothing extra special. I was in the state senate for a term though.”
“That’s fine! That’s fine! Say, how long gonna be in town?”
“Oh, ’bout three days.”
“Say, want to have you up to the house for dinner; but doggone it, Cleo—that’s my wife—I’m married now—she’s gone and got me all sewed up with a lot of dates—you know how these women are—me, I’d rather sit home and read. But sure got to see you again. Say, gimme a ring, will you?—at the house (find it in the tel’phone book) or at my study here in the church.”
“Yuh, sure, you bet. Well, glad to seen you.”
“You bet. Tickled t’ death seen you, old Jim!”
Elmer watched Jim plod away, shoulders depressed, a man discouraged.
“And that,” he rejoiced, “is the poor fish that tried to keep me from going into the ministry!” He looked about his auditorium, with the organ pipes a vast golden pyramid, with the Chubbuck memorial window vivid in ruby and gold and amethyst. “And become a lawyer like him, in a dirty stinking little office! Huh! And he actually made fun of me and tried to hold me back when I got a clear and definite Call of God! Oh, I’ll be good and busy when he calls up, you can bet on that!”
Jim did not telephone.
On the third day Elmer had a longing to see him, a longing to regain his friendship. But he did not know where Jim was staying; he could not reach him at the principal hotels.
He never saw Jim Lefferts again, and within a week he had forgotten him, except as it was a relief to have lost his embarrassment before Jim’s sneering—the last bar between him and confident greatness.