The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 20, 1906, Page 6

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. In today's Sunday Call is pub- lished the first installment of “The Sagebrush Parson,” by A. B. Wward. It Is a strong Western story, depicting the unconventional Iife In the sagebrush wastes of Ne- vada, and has been compared most favorably by the best of critics with “The Virginian” and other high- ciass literary productions of the day The characters are all dis- tinctly marked, the here, Clement Vaughan, an Englishman, being particularly striking. The strong denouement of the novel is vividly unfolded and the author's sense of humor, apparent throughout the story, contributes greatly to the reader’s enjoyment and he will find through the chapters a plot repiete with emo- scenes. “The Sagebrush will Be conclude- In five ssues of the Sunday Call. running powerfu tional Parson’ POP4040000000000000000000000000000000 00 4240000000000 0000000000n (Copyright Little, Brown & Co.) CHAPTER | nd a horse s not a man to he scented a when ing 1t up filled 1t?” he asked. tedly. f ve me five more I'd throw in brown hand slid into the 1 fished up another gold us,” cried the agent de- on’t suppose ye know the hit the south trail be- and wiggle the ke the up trail. Wh : on ye can't git out said the stranger, climb- to the saddle and sling- satchel over the horn. him and ejected a with the accuracy e company playing tle girls watched him narticulate appeals for mother made no at- She was standing star- ing over the child ads. Every one in the car stood and stared. The men, women and children who had rushed out of ti one street of the little town at the approach of the n did the same. The young man—he was young in spite of his beard and his solemn ways—bore their gaze wi the utmost tranquillity, shook the and spoke encouragingly to the se. animal stifly re- sponded. At the same moment the loco- and started on its allel with the street. a flutter of handkerchiefs at the windows, the horseman lifted his hat; train went on, and Clement nerant preacher In 4, because an atom, e expanse of the ly alone. to look this ches of gray, th lepro ches of alkali, hes of sagebrush, no other owing thing, high mountains rimming ¥ n. Over him burned the blue of cloudless sky. Around him poured the d atmosphere. A vil showed the p The one str untain stood out straight and clear. All else was barren p sagebrush and alkall. Toward the two hills between h ran the road the stranger urged his horse; but the two little hills evermore retreated. They were like everything else in this strange, tantalizing, new country; t he reached them and began to climb. Sounds met him, coming forward: the rattle of wheels, the clank of chains, the call of the driver, and between the walls of sagebrush appeared the leaders of a string of mules. They shied at sight of ¥ and the entire twenty swerved from the road. The driver, seated on the off wheel-horse in front of the first can- vas-topped wagon—there were two—pulled on the iron rod which went from the bit of one leader to the rein of the other, and commenced to swear. He cursed the Jeaders and he cursed all the other mules of the string, calling each by name: he cursed their ancestors and their descend- ants to the third and fourth generations, backward and forward, up and down, till he was out of breath, and then h briefly and succinctly cursed the man in his way, who, astonished at the ple- turesqueness of the profanity, listened as to something new, forgetting its sig- nificance. He watched the driver “gee” his train with a steady pull on the rod and “haw” it with two swift, strong jerks. The last wheel of the second “schooner” creaked past him. “Wonderful!” he ejaculated, ‘“Wonder- ful'™ and jogged along. The road was & rough one, 2 mere path in the sagebrush widened by use. When the ruts had become too deep others had *een formed. to be abandoned in turn for motive gave a sh WIPL STEETCHES® OF GRAY PUSTY S0IL, WiTH LEPPOUS BLOTCHES OF ALKALIJ JIGH MOUNTAINS BIMMING THE HOBJZON the first when these had been fllted with drifting sand or washed by heavy rains For a mile Or more the road traversed the s, then descended Into the Reese River ley, but continued to cling to the base of the mountains. Rocks loomed on either side. Cottonwood trees began to appear and the thick, rank bunch grass on which cattle fed. Part of a herd came tearing down the slope directly in his path, and drank eagerly of a small stream trickling over the stones into a natural basin. Huge, wild-eyed creatures they were, branded on the rump, with cleft ears or dewlaps slit in strings to tell who owned them. They eyed the Intruder suspici- ously, swerved to one side as they passed him and went down the ravine with im- pulsive, aimless, shuffiing gait. A few miles farther the traveler came upon a deserted stamp-mill, as he deemed it, from the red dust of the crushed ore covering the roof and sides. Higher up there was another, like the first, a rough wooden structure bullt into the hill. Then the road made a sudden turn, and there, cut off from the world, on a shelf, a niche, in the heart of the moun- tain, stood a cluster of small houses, bullt alike, of rough boards, with square fronts, doors set thick with windows, and “stoops” to offset the slope of the canyon. One of them was larger than the rest, and on its stoop lounged a company of men: red-shirted miners, cowboys in blue or gray, with heavy top-boots, all smoking. The newcomer alighted, on the wrong side of the horse, a fact which did not escape the men on the stoop, and came to- ward them. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he began with boyish confidence, ‘‘can you direct me to Frank Henley’s—Why, there you are!” he caled joyously, as a tall, fair man appeared In the doorw: “Clement Vaughan cried the other, hurrying to meet him. “We Jidn't expect you for a month. I'd have met you. Who gave you that rack-o'bones to ride? Mar- tin Young, Will Dower, this is my friend Vaughan. Come in, come in. Mary will be delighted.” Henley led the way into the house, shouting, ‘“Mary, Clement's here!” Two fair-haired girls, of a dozen years or less, came out of one of the rooms which led into the hall, their mother following. “How you've grown!” exclalmed Vaughan. “May, I'd never have known you! And can this be Lilllan? Ah, Mary!” he kissed her with brotherly af- fection. “Clement! Iam so glad!" she cried, re- turning his embrace, then held him at arm'’s length and scrutinized him anxious- ly. “You look better than I expected. I thought from what you wrote you'd bardly be able to take the journey. Our Nevada air will do wonders for you. Look at me!” “I'm_looking,” laughed Vaughan. T was about to remark that you were thinner than ever and just as pale.” “She works all the time,” grumbled her husband. “When it isn't one thing it's another—studying, scribbling—"" Mary colored sensitively and he made haste to add, “teaching the girls, tending baby, and worrying over me.” Mary looked uncomfortable; there was an awkward pause and Frank lounged away murmuring something about “that Chinaman.” “The others have had their supper,” explained Mary. “We always eat by our- selves. Do you want to go to your own room? Where did you get that hat, Clement?” “That,” Clement held it off at arm's length and scanned it approvingly, “is & concession to the country. I lost mine out of the window and bought this at the next station, which happened to be Ogden. I sald, ‘I will adopt in part, at least, the costume of the States.’ Don't you like it?” “It is utterly incongruous,” she com- ‘mented. “And yet it doesn't seem So, on you.” “Whew, how dusty I am!” he crled, giving himself a shake. “It's the sagebrush,” she replied. “It covers every one. It's a sort of initiation, Clement. You'll never be the same again. Youwll always be ‘sagebrushy’ from now on—at least while you're here.” ‘While she spoke she was leading him along a hall lined, like the rest of the interior, with cheesecloth upon which wall-paper had been pasted. Through open doors Vaughan obtained a glimpse of a long room containing hlaf a dozen tables covered with red cloths and set with great cups and plates of thick white china. % “How is Frank doing with his board- ing-house? he asked. Mary shook her head. *Only half the mines are running and those may shut down. The superintendent promises Frank his pay, but one cannot tell. Frank says he can’'t refuse to feed the men. Here's your room.” She opened a door into a box of a place, containing a cot, a washstand and one chair. “It's nothing but a bunk, Clement, but of course, my sitting-room is yours. Come there when you are ready. It s at the end of the hall.” Left to himself, Vaughan took off his coat and shook it. A cloud of fine aro- matic powder filled the room, but ap- parently there was no diminution of the stuff which had turned his black broad- cloth to a rusty gray. He glanced tue- fully down at his trousers: they were gray, too. He took a look at himself in the small looking-glass. His hair and beard were tinged with the same im- palpable dust. No amount of brushing and shaking removed it. As Mary had sald, he had become ‘sage-brushy” and would so remain. “I don’t object to it, though,” he told her, when he had joined her in the pretty sitting-room, so like her dear feminine, bookish self, with its tidies and ottomanus, its piano and pictures of Goethe and Shakespeare and Longfellow, and the shelf of well-chosen volumes—the Brown- ing he had given her among them. “I believe I rather ..ke it,” he added, sniffing at his sleeve. “You will like it, more and more,” sald Mary gravely. “It penetrates and flavors every part of you, it clalms you and you surrender.” dow big and rough and shaggy the bushes grow!” he exclaimed. “There were some five feet high, I'm sure.” “Yes,that's true,” she returned. “They are like the life here, large and coarse, strong, vital, full of ofl, and full of— bitterness.” “Supper’'s ready,” opening the door. interposed Frank, “You shall have a en.”" “That will be ‘sagebrushy,’ too,” said Mary with a little laugh. “Ah, there's Sonfa! Come, baby,” she opened her arms to recelve a violet-eyed wean brought in by a.young woman of perhaps- twenty. ‘‘Our niece, Minnie Hollaway,” Mary explained. ‘‘There go the men to the stoop for a smoke. You'll find some of them a study, Clement.” : No less did the men find the newcomer deserving of critical attention and com- ment, growing freer as he left them and retired to his room. ““Too damn fresh,” sald Martin Young, the cattle-owner, as he and Will Dower, who worked in the Galena mine, saun- tered the canyon. “Talks too much.” 7 AT ‘r.eu\’j “He talks well,” sald Dower. “I like to hear him. ’Most anybody would.” There was a wistful tone in his voice. He was wondering what Minnie Holla- way, Frank Henley's nlece, thought of the newcomer. Martin Young was oc- cupled with the same query: hence the violence of his criticisms. “Never had no razor to his chin! exclalmed contemptuously. - drank ’'r smoked 'r chewed! What sort of a feller’'s that!” “Time will tell,” sald Will sententious- ly. Did women like that sort of thing? he was asking himself. They had always seemed to favor the dashing, daring, reckless sort. But there was nao telling about women—what they do, or choose, or like, and Minnle semed mightily taken with this man. / CHAPTER II. “Fulfilling His Word.” Minnie settled the question disturbing the minds and hearts of her lovers by accepting the stranger as being too good to be trifled with, a man, and therefore iInteresting, but beyond the reach of her small coquetries and blandishments. The awestruck tone in which she asked, “Mr. Vaughan, will you have your eggs soft or hard?”’ made Martin Young nestle in his chalr, but it at the same time relieved his anxiety. And Will Dower had no more fears. Vaughan himself was greatly amused by her attitude and played tricks with her, now solemn as an owl while he answered her in absurd polysyllables, now laughing -outright at her efforts to ex- press her admiration of him. The little girls thought it was all a show for their benefit, and giggled at everything which they did not understand, while Baby Sonia crowed and chuckled with no doubt as good reason as theirs. Mary did not quite approve of this frivolity. Vaughan caught her more than once watching him. He taxed her with taking him too serious- ly one day when they were alone to- gether in her sitting-room. “I wish you would take yourself more serfously,” she answered. “Clement, I believe you have changed .since you be- gan to Study medicine. Why did you do it? I never thought you would be one to put your hand to the plow and turn back.” “T haven't turned back,” he answered serenely. “I've kept right on.” “But you always used to say you were were going to work for the Lord.” “I am, in the best way possible.” He was becoming restive under her probing, but she felt that her cause was just and continued. i “Is there any better way than the one you found as a lad, exhorting and teach- ing? Ah, Clement, what a work you did when you were but a boy of fifteen! And now you are twenty-three?”" “Twenty-four. I've been studying med- icine and surgery two years. They con- sldered me an apt scholar, Mary.” “Apt? You are apt at anything,” she answered with geverity, ‘“You can do whatever you choose. You have the ten talents—and will be held accountable. In preaching and teaching it was more than @ talent,” she sighed. - “Oh, I'm still ‘the Parson'”” he an- swered lightly. “Bvery one but you recog- nizes this fact. Dodn’t you hear those fellows last night? Sometimes I wish I wasn't so conspicuously different from the other animals.’ ‘“Clement! don’t be irreverent. It was no light matter, being set apart from the cradle as you were. Think of your father and mother!" “They don’t interfere: they didn't dis- of my coming here, sudden as approve it was™ “They disapproved of Della. “Wo won't discuss Della.” “As to your coming here,” she shifted suddenly. “If ever the finger of God pointed the way, it was In this case. You will realize how you were directed and led when you come in contact with these desperate men d disappointed women and learn of the heartbreaks and the tragedles.” There was no escaping the fervor of her words. Clement sprang to his feet and walked to the window, standing there silent for a few minutes. When he' re- turned to her there was no lack of seriousness in voice or manner as he sald: “If T belleved in myself as you belleve in me I might accomplish something— but—I am not so strong as you think.” “This Nevada air will do wonders for you,” she answered, misunderstanding him. He shook his head. T mean—spiritually.” “Would you undertake anything in your own strength, Clement?" “No, of course not” he replied with some impatlence. ‘‘But, Mary, try to un- derstand. You have spoken of my father and mother. Have you forgotten their fathers?" Her eyes fell. “I'm not only the revolt of my parents, I'm a reversion to their parents,” he sald earnestly. “I know that I have spend- thrift, dissolute blood in my veins, as well as the desire for godliness. I haven't been tempted yet, but not till I've met and overcome it shall I be fit for work of this sort.” the more reason, all the more rea- she cried, “for you ‘not to sit or stand, but go’ If you have the sword of the Spirit and the shield of faith vou can meet temptation and conquer { He smiled and shok his head. *“You don't know how weak I am,” he sald T don’t mean that. softly. “How I dread the leap In the dark.” “In the dark! Oh, Clement, you are changed! Is it—is it Delia?" “Why do you all blame her fér every- thing?” he responded querulously. “Changes were bound to come, new thoughts, new feelings, new degires. I couldn’t always remain the sensitive, con- fiding lad I was when you left England.” ‘“But you can let that lad determine what the man shall b Her eyes flashed through tears. ‘“/Clement,” she sald with an effort, “‘we have all hoped so much for you. We have prayed so earnestly that you might do this work. Who can touch the heart as you can? Who can so uplift? I have been so hungry for the bread of heaven which you have always given me until now. Now you have come—and are like this— " The tears ran over, down her thin cheeks. He was on his knees beside her in an instant wiping them away. “‘Mary, dear sister,”” he pleaded. “Don’t despair of me. Give me time. I will do what I can. Tell me how to help you! Do you want me to hold a service here to-morrow " She smiled tremulously. “If you will, please,” she murmured, but hastily pushed him from her, hearing a familiar step in the hall. t a word of this before Frank. He thinks me a fanatic now. He will like to_have the service, I don’t mean that., But he thinks I care too much about these things. I do care. It is life and death to me. /But they all care more than they are willing to acknowledge."” There was certainly no lack of interest displayed when It was anounced the fol- lowing day, Sunday, that the young Meth- odlat preacher wha had vacently cama out from England would hold services that afternoon in Frank Henley's dining- room. There was - pleasant stir of anticipa- tion tHroughout the little camp. Here was an opportunity to put on best clothes and respectability, to court old memories and new hopes, to be decent and pensive and to be on good terms with one’s neigh- bors and to sing hymns. When Vaughan came out of Mary's sit- ting-room into the hall, where Mary's piano had been moved within range of the dining-room door, every man, woman and child in the camp was seated where the red-covered tables had been. Their eager, expectant faces were lifted to his. He tok his’place at the piano and be- gan to play and sing: “All hail the power of Jesus’ name! Let angels prostrate fall} Bring forth the royal dladem And crown Him Lord of all.” “Crown Him!"” rang out Mary’s exultant contralto, leading the sweet pipings of her little girls. “Crown Him,” sang Minnle Hollaway. soaring In clear soprano beyond the reach of Martin and Willlam, rivaling each other in ambitious, close pursuit. “Crown Him,” boomed, in a genial bass, the big, red-faced man who, arriving late and finding every seat taken, was bal- ancing himself with difficulty on Mary’'s little sewjng chair. Frank stood silent, “taking it all in,” a pleasant light In his small, sharp hazel eyes. The singer arose from his piano and opened his Bible at the One Hundred and Forty-eighth Psalm. He read it through, and Vaughan read as well as he sang, which was saying much; then he picked out one phrase to preach by—“Fulfilling His Word.” There is a deal of fatalism in mining camps. Life is one huge gamble to men who one day “strike it rich” and the next “go broke. If there is not a God behind the wheel which turns and turns to give now this one and now that his chance, there is a Being of another sort who laughs to see a human wretch be- fooled. It is more comfortable to belleve in something like fair play and order and a reason why. The speaker had his audlence with him from the start as he plctured the stormy wind obeying a Purpose; and as’ he led up to man, the puppet, the automaton, the pawn, in the great game which means the evolution of the best, there were long breaths drawn, beads of perspiration stood out on tanned foreheads, knotty hands clasped and unclasped restlessly. That was it, they had known it all along, they could not get away from Destiny, from Fate, from—why not say it—God! Vaughan was preaching to himself; that was why his thrusts were so sure, so keen. He was well-nigh unconsclous of his listeners, though not one of them suspected it, except Mary. She saw him feel his way along from premise to con- clusion and exulted when he tied him- self up irrevocably to what she believed to be his lot. She saw the pallor of con- viction eross his face, saw the gleam of dedication In his eyes. Throughout his impassioned pleading, taught by the school which urges, “Cry, spare not!” she felt that it was himself crying to himself, that it was in self- accusing that the lash descended, and when at length he prayed that the Word might be revealed to each one thers and at any price fulfilled, her heart spoke a fervent ‘“‘Amen!" “We'll have to get your young friend over to Lewis,” declared the plump, red- faced man to Frank Henley, when, the service over, the congregation loitered through the hall. “] don’t know as he'll go, Judge," Frank replied. “We'll ask him. Here's Judge Weaver, Clement, wants you to hold a service at Lewis. What do you 't know when I've been so—so declared the Judge. *“I assure you, MF. Vaughan, it takes me back to my childhood days, when I learnmed re- ligion at my mother's knee. I havem't forgotten those days, sir, no indeed. I keep a Family Bible in the court room there at Lewls; yes, sir, and it's an ob- Ject of—of veneration, sir!" “You were asking about our going ever to Lewis,” reminded Frank, who was in haste to clear the dining-room and get the tables back in time for supper. “Yes, yes,” declared the Judge. “We need you over there. ‘““There’s a ery from Macedonia, Come and help us.'™ The Judge beamed with apprecilation of his own aptness. “When do you want me?"” asked Clem- ent. He was very white, now that the glow had faded. “Let's see, tomorrow night there's a political meeting I have to attend,” mused the Judge. “Tuesday I go out of town, ‘Wednesday—I declare, there’'s something every day this week! - S'pose we say Sun- day? That's our big day.” “Very well, Sunday, then,” sald Clem- ent. “T'll ride over. I have a horse.” ““Why can’t you come, too, Frank? quired the Judge. “I don’t know of anything to hinder,” sald Henley. “Yes, I'll come.” “We'll look for you, then, Sunday after- noon." He shook hands with Vaughan by way of sealing the agreentent. *“Don’t fall us,” he said with emphasis. “I'll come,” the young man answered. Mary Henley heard him, and again re- joiced, believing, ‘@s she did, that the ful- filling of God’s Word was one with the fulfilling of her desire. " in- CHAPTER 111 A Service at Lou Pugh’s. “That isn't my horse,” said Vaughan when Henley Introduced him to his mount, the morning of thelr start for Lewis. “No, yours fell apart. I opened the barn door too suddenly,” sald Henley dry- ly. “I'll ind@ you another. You can use this one till then.” “You find me too many things,” sald Vaughan impetulously. ‘“Frank, you're the most generous man I ever saw.”™ “It's pride,” sald Frank coolly. ‘“You don't suppose I'm going to take you over to Lewls and have everybody ask, ‘What's Henley got there? In this country it make a heap of difference what you ride; and that reminds me, you got off the wrong side of the horse the night you came. It was all right with that bag-o'- bones, but if it had been an animal that knew anything you'd have been kicKed into the middle of next week. I thought I'd tell you,” he added by way of apology. “I want you to tell me everything you can,” returned Vaughan quickly. *1 know how green I am. What sort of place is this we're going to?" ' “Lewis? Very much like all the places around here. Ope street: first a saloon, then a Chinese restaurant, then a saloon, then a boarding-house, then a dance-hall ;md a Chinese laundry, then another sa- loon—"* “l;reit as bad as that?" ‘Pretty bad, Clement. This isn't exact- lyT:md.h nu‘v:l come to." " ey talked other things—of the big output at Esmeralda, of the fallure of Galena to “‘make good,” and what was doing at Ruby Hilk told of his st of his am- bitions for the little girls. “This is no life for them,” he sald abruptly, “or for Mrr'mflhot; don’t you suppose I know Silence fell between them., broken only when (lamant cskad ahout tha stranea saw, the stranger soils. He ool ed, by the piled- was amaszed, overwhelmed, B up chaos of the rocks, (hohe exyc dis- s. “It is titanic.” ff‘\}:(l::ely to be in such a place stretches L “Aye, it stretches him, returned h?- grimly. “But it doesn’t fill him. Tl just the trouble with the poor d » you're going to preach to. They're gr::. wide-open mouths and ltomnch&——; 3 nothing big enough and strong enoug! satisfy them.” ‘Again they rode in Clement broke forth, © of it all!” “Not half so grot humens you'll see was the answer. ki “It seems to me.d = cher, whose tende! 1"; each new impression, “as if Nnu? had started in to make something of this country, and, finding it too hard for her, had abandoned ltml:';i_.plf. Nothing ut ruins—look at 3 2 b"l know better than to look, said Frank philosophically. “T've known men who committed suicide and women who went insane from looking. Come, come, we shan't reach Lewis today. He whipped up his horse and rode along at such a rate that his companion had an he could do to keep up with him. They fell in with Judge Weaver, on the “] thought perhaps the court room—— home on a big black horse. The two looked like an equestrian statue set Im otion. T think.” he sald, after grestings had been exchanged, “that we'll hold the ser- Lou Pugh's. ‘"f-'w’n'm is his residence?’ Inquired Vaughan politely. “Igs doesn’t reside,” sald Frank. “He bunks over the saloon.” “Oh,” sald Vaughan. “You see,” sald the Judge confiden- tially, turning to Vaughan, “he has quits a hall there. It's the only place in town of any size.” — “1 thought perhaps the court-reom— began Vaughan. e"l'"’:‘vvelve\ by fourteen,™ returned the Judge. “Couldn’t swing a cat there. I've seen Lou and he’s agreed to let us have the place for an hour. During that time there won't be any drinks sold over the bar and business will be practically at a standstill.” slence and agaln he grotesqueness esque as some of the before you're done,’ saild the young cy it was to ana- Jewis was a typical mining camp, like Galena, but even more In- formal in its arrangement. The same rough wooden houses, apparently thrown helter-skelter, In among the rocks. bore the same appearance of “don’t care™ and “can’t help it.” In the building whtich furnished bachelor quarters to the Judge they were served a generous meal, and then the three walked over to Lou Pugh’s. As far as indications went, there was no anticipation of their visit or dellre* for it, in a religious capacity, although it they had come to drink, bet or dance, there would have been plenty to welcome them. Only one befuddled cowboy, at- tempting to do the honors, sidled up to Vaughan and clapped him on the shoul- der, excialming, “Hello, stranger! Howdy? Name your booze!™ Judge Weaver promptly hastened to the rescue. The embarrassed cowboy covered his confusion as he reeled to- wards the bar by calling loudly, “Gi' me Kentucky Extra—somethin’ to go down like a buzz-saw!" Vaughan threw a hasty glance about the hall. In one part of it men and women were dancing to the musie of a fiddie. In another, a man was calling off numbers to a crowd at a table. At an- other table men were throwing dice, and at still anotjer cardplayers were seated. Small red. blue and white discs lay in piles before them. They did not look up, but kept their eyes resolutely on the bits of pastboard in their hands. The dancers looked, the girls with mocking smiles, over their shoulders. The men drinking at the bar looked, and finally Lou Pugh. attracted by the focusing of glances on the Judge and his companions, turned and saw the visitors. He hurried for- ward, his round, good-humored face wreathed in smiles. “Glad to see ve, gentlemen,” he cried, seizing & hand of each and worrying it. “When d'ye come in? Just now? Well, I declare, never saw ye. Business is drivin’, that's a fact. I'll have things all right, here, In a minute. What's that you say? Want the organ up In front. Any way you like.” He beckoned to four stalwart miners, and the fine large instrument, his pride, was Iifted up and as lightly placed in front of the bar. By this time the atten~ tion of all in the room had been attracted to the spot where the Judge stood, pleas- antly excited, and Henley, watchful, in- terested, beside the young preacher, alert as a racehorse before the first heat. Whatever experiences he had had in the past went for nothing here, he knew But he also knew that somewhere in the bottom of every human heart is a place where it resembles every other human heart. He meant to find it. Un- @er the rouge, the tawdry flnery of the women, under the bravado of the men, hidden in the ashes, he would find the divine spark and blow It into life. Lou Pugh had climbed upon a chair and was stamping on the bar. “Boys.” he called, “I've got a surprise party for You. This camp ain't much on religion. We've never had a parson here before. But Judge Weaver brought a parson friend o' his'm and I've given him full swing for an hour. Treat him white. boys, treat him white!” He climbed down. ‘“Fire away, Parson,” he di- rected. ““No, no, wailt a minute,” pleaded the barkeeper. He hurried from the room and presently returped, his arms filed with blankets. With these he painstak- ingly draped the bar, the bottles, the beer and whisky barrels, the gaudy advertise- ments. ‘1 was ralsed better 'n this,” he nl? to Vaughan. “I know enough to realize that whisky 'n religion ' well together.” e Delivered from an inappropriate back- ground, Vaughan took his place at the organ and began to sing. Three or four other musical instruments which had filled the room with & discordant din gave way to him. but the fiddle stil sighed deprecatingly through the reel in- sisted upon by the two or three couples who refused to give up . thelr dance. Their companions had dropped into chairs here and there, or stood at the singer. A drunken miner Joiy in, the maudlin tears rolling down his foolish face. A broad-shouldered cowboy, with frank, young. kindly eyes, sat staring at the opposite wall as if he saw some ap- parition there. The gamblers at the nrd-:::rl;lmlflnm on, deaf and biind Ng except thelr game. Vaughan preached and then he prayed, simply, gravely, with unmistakable sin- cerity. The other dancers stopped, the with his not even slighting card-tables. Wh-lo-m-m upon the bar, gold, silver, and red, blue