But within the last two days his faith had been shaken. This person calling himself Jesus, who had moved the people so wonderfully in the church Sunday and at the outdoor service, was walking the streets of Raymond like an average man, attracting no special attention, talking with every one indiscriminately, playing with children, entering into the commonplaces of Raymond like any common man. And when a test had come to show supernatural power, he had failed—or at least, he had refused to exhibit anything which could distinguish him from others. Was he really Jesus? Where were the signs and wonders?

Mr. Maxwell, searching his own heart, going over every word and act of the Man, could not call up one single thing that did not somehow belong naturally to Jesus. Neither could he detect one single weakness or fault in him. And while he wavered in his judgment of some things he had observed, he was staggered as he viewed the calm courage and unshaken faith of Rachel and Rollin.

All this only made him the more eager to see and know more of the Person who had, in less than a week, become the one absorbing object of his heart and mind. What would he do next? What plans did he have for the church? How would he answer all the hard questions the people were beginning to ask? When would he begin to heal? What part would he take as a citizen in the regular duties of the town? What would he say about business and amusements and education? These and many other queries tumultuously surged through Mr. Maxwell’s mind as he looked into the future.

He was still going over all this on his way home from Rollin’s, and had only just gone into his study, when he was called up by Barnes from the Gazette office. “Mr. Carter wants to know if you can come up to the office. He wants to see you on a special matter.”

“I can come now as well as any time.”

“Very well. Mr. Carter would like to see you.”

Fifteen minutes later Mr. Maxwell was in the Gazette editor’s office, facing him and wondering what he wanted.

During all the years of Maxwell’s pastorate in Raymond, extending over twenty years, Edward Norman, a member of Maxwell’s church, and Jasper Carter, a non-churchgoer, had been rival newspapermen. The News was a morning paper, independent in politics, ready to give its aid to all good reforms, and a steady distinctive force for law and order.

The Gazette was managed by Carter on the principle that seems to govern many large city dailies where sensationalism, exaggeration of crime, scandal, and sin are the leading features. Carter had always opposed the churches and had boasted more than once that he could drive any man out of his pulpit if he got too radical with the preaching of reform. He had fought for the alcohol establishments when they were in danger of being voted out, and when it was finally outlawed, he still advocated high license and insisted on personal liberty. He was for the segregation of vice and a police force armed with clubs and guns. He was especially bitter and hostile to all preachers, and often spoke of them in his editorials as “non-producers.” He gloried in “progress,” and defined it in terms of money-making and success. All told, his paper was a money-making investment and he was proud of his influence in Raymond.