 How does the narrator respond to Brother Partridge's gift offering on Thanksgiving?
For punishment, he locked me in a windowless room and told me to sit still until he came back. It was two or three years later that I skulked into Brother Partridge's mission on Durbin Street. Partridge didn't seem to notice me, but I knew that was an act. "Brothers, this being Thanksgiving, I pray the good Lord that we all are truly thankful for all that we have received. Some skin-and-bones character I didn't know struggled out of his seat, amening. "Brothers," Partridge went on after enjoying the interruption with a beaming smile, "you shall all be entitled to a bowl of turkey soup prepared by Sister Partridge, a generous supply of sweet rolls and dinner rolls contributed by the Early Morning Bakery of this city, and all the coffee you can drink. Even Partridge made his way down from the auctioneer's stand like a vulture with a busted wing and darted through his private door. The box was fastened to the vertical tongue-and-groove laths of the woodwork, not the wall. "This," Brother Partridge said, "is one of the most profound experiences of my life." My head hinged until it lined my eyes up with Brother Partridge. "A vision of you at the box projected itself on the crest of my soup," the preacher explained in wonderment.
 He believes the homeless people are ridiculous for charging so desperately after the offering
 He believes the homeless people are stupid for falling for Brother Partridge's trick  He believes Brother Partridge wants something from him in return for the Thanksgiving offering  He believes Brother Partridge is attempting to poison him and the other homeless men  He believes the homeless people are ridiculous for charging so desperately after the offering