CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER 20Visible text2 paragraphs
The minister from the doorstep of the parsonage watched the stooped figure as it shambled down the street. The rain was still falling in torrents. The thought crossed his mind that the old man might not be able to compass the two miles or more of country road. Then he got into his raincoat and followed.
"My umbrella isn't of the best," he said, as he overtook the toiling figure; "but I should have offered it."