The Estray - Chapter 11 The Clean Wild Thing

"The Reverend Francis Holliwell." Morena turned the card over and over
in his hand. "Holliwell. Holliwell. Frank Holliwell." Yes. One of the
fellows that had dropped out. Big, athletic youngster; left college in
his junior year and studied for the ministry. Fine chap. Popular.
Especially decent to him when he had begun to play that difficult role
of a man without a country. Now here was the card of the Reverend
Francis Holliwell and the man himself, no doubt, waiting below. Jasper
tried to remember. He'd heard something about Frank. Oh, yes. The
young clergyman had given up a fashionable parish in the East--small
Norman church, wealthy parishioners, splendid stipend, beautiful stone
Norman rectory--thrown it all up to go West on some unheard-of mission
in the sagebrush. He was back now, probably for money, donations
wanted for a building, church or hospital or library. Jasper in
imagination wrote out a generous check. Before going down he glanced
at the card again and noticed some lines across the back: This is to introduce one of my best friends, Pierre Landis, of
Wyoming. Please be of service to him. His mission has and deserves
to have my full sympathy.

So, after all, it wasn't Holliwell below and the check-book would not
be needed. "Pierre Landis, of Wyoming." Jasper went down the stairs
and on the way he remembered a letter received from Yarnall a long
time before. He remembered it with an accession of alarm. "I've
probably let hell loose for your protégée, Jane; given your address,
and incidentally hers, to a fellow who wants her pretty badly. His
name's Pierre Landis. You're a pretty good judge of white men. Size
him up and do what's best for Jane."