BRUSH 
 
7 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH 
 PARSON 
 
 BY 
 A. B. WARD 
 
 BOSTON 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY 
 
 i , , 
 
 a 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1905, 
 
 BY 
 LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY 
 
 All Eights Reserved 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 

 1 5-3 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I IN THE SAGE BRUSH COUNTRY 1 
 
 II "FULFILLING His WORD" 12 
 
 III A SERVICE AT Lou PUGH S 21 
 
 IV SENT TO EUREKA 32 
 
 V THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 44 
 
 VI GATHERING A CONGREGATION 57 
 
 VII LETTERS FROM ENGLAND , . . . 63 
 
 VIII ELSIE GOES IN SEARCH OF " C. V." 72 
 
 IX CHARLEY DAVENPORT S FUNERAL 82 
 
 X CONFIDENCES 93 
 
 XI JACK AND MAT "COME INTO THE GAME" ... 106 
 
 XII AN UNLUCKY BRIDEGROOM 114 
 
 XIII THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. 1 124 
 
 XIV A TROUBADOUR 137 
 
 XV FAIRY FINGERS 146 
 
 XVI "THE RABBIT HIT" 153 
 
 XVII THE HUMBLING OF MARTIN YOUNG 168 
 
 XVIII A CRUSADE FOR TEMPERANCE 177 
 
 XIX THE DARE 188 
 
 M532956 
 
vi CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XX KATHARINE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW . . . . 196 
 
 XXI "ALL FOOLS" 207 
 
 XXII THE DEBATE 219 
 
 XXIII THE BANQUET AT RUBY HILL 237 
 
 XXIV THE LITTLE CHURCH 243 
 
 XXV SOBERING OFF A DISTRICT ATTORNEY . , . 253 
 
 XXVI TIRED 264 
 
 XXVII PROMETHEUS 270 
 
 XXVIII A SURPRISE 276 
 
 XXIX A MEETING 284 
 
 XXX EUREKA CHANGES FRONT 294 
 
 XXXI A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT OF MISSIONS 306 
 
 XXXII MARTIN YOUNG TELLS WHAT HE SAW . . . 318 
 
 XXXIII THE ARREST 323 
 
 XXXIV KATHARINE APPEALS TO WINSLOW 331 
 
 XXXV THE TRIAL 342 
 
 XXXVI BROTHER AND SISTER 350 
 
 XXXVII PROMETHEUS BOUND 354, 
 
 XXXVIII THE DEATH WATCH . . 358 
 
 XXXIX JACK INTERVENES . 365 
 
 XL SUSPENSE 373 
 
 XLI THE REPRIEVE . . . 379 
 
 XLII To THE DESERT , . , 386 
 
The Sage Brush Parson 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IN THE SAGE BRUSH COUNTRY 
 
 WHEN the train stopped at Battle Mountain, 
 a certain morning in May, 1881, there was 
 only one passenger to alight. He presented 
 a remarkable appearance, even in that place and at 
 that time. The other passengers might be forgiven 
 for putting their heads out of the window to look 
 at him, nor was it strange that the station agent, 
 rolling his quid into the other cheek, stood at gaze, as 
 the newcomer stepped briskly towards him. Tall, 
 slender, with the bend at the shoulders which betrays 
 the student, the eager stoop of one who drinks thirstily 
 of his books and long, intent on what he saw, alive 
 to his fingertips, he came striding forward, his large, 
 dark eyes glowing in- the pallor of so much of his face 
 as showed above the silken black beard veiling the 
 lower half. He was clothed in clerical black, all but 
 his hat. That was Nevada s, the cowboy s, the 
 miner s, a soft, golden-brown sombrero, giving him 
 a brigandish look which ill consorted with his large, 
 gentle, melancholy eyes. He moved with impetuous 
 
2 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 energy, his long black coat-tails floating out behind, 
 yet sedately, as one accustomed to be noticed and ap 
 proved. 
 
 " Good-morning," he said cheerfully ; " can you 
 tell me where I can find a horse to take me to 
 Galena? " 
 
 The station agent was not a man to hesitate, es 
 pecially when he scented a trade. " You bet," he re 
 turned cordially, " Sound and kind, stands without 
 hitchin , leads like a lamb," and he disappeared in the 
 direction of a shed behind the station. 
 
 The stranger waited, waving his hand to three little 
 girls bunched like flowers in one of the car windows. 
 They waved themselves bodily to him and babbled 
 inarticulate, importunate appeals, lost for lack of an 
 interpreter, for, before their mother could intervene 
 and translate, the agent returned, dragging after him 
 a sorry-looking animal, ribbed like a sea-washed hulk, 
 knock-kneed, spavined, and blind in one eye. 
 
 " There ! " he announced complacently ; " that s the 
 dog-gondest finest mar in these parts. I ll sell her 
 to ye for fifteen, and you d have ter pay ten for hire. 
 If she s yourn you kin do as yer a minter with her. 
 If ye hired her an there was anythin happened, there 
 might be trouble." 
 
 " I ll take her," said the newcomer briefly, and 
 slid his long, brown hand deep into his trousers 
 pocket, bringing it up filled with coin. " Is that 
 right ? " he asked. 
 
IN THE SAGE BRUSH COUNTRY 3 
 
 The agent ran his eye over the money. " Yep," he 
 replied contentedly. " If you wanter give me five 
 more I d throw in the saddle." 
 
 Again the long, brown hand slid into the trousers 
 pocket and fished up another gold piece. 
 
 " That fixes us," cried the agent delightedly. " I 
 don t suppose ye know the way? Ye wanter hit the 
 south trail between them two hills and wiggle along 
 the foothills till ye strike the up trail. When ye git 
 inter the canyon ye can t git out." 
 
 " Thank you," said the stranger, climbing awk 
 wardly into the saddle and slinging his traveling 
 satchel over the horn. The agent watched him and 
 ejected a stream of tobacco juice with the accuracy 
 and rapidity of a hose company playing on a fire. 
 The little girls watched him and babbled more inar 
 ticulate appeals for attention. Their mother made 
 no attempt to explain. She was standing staring 
 over the children s heads. Everyone in the car stood 
 and stared. The men, women and children who had 
 rushed out of the one street of the little town at the 
 approach of the train did the same. 
 
 The young man he was young in spite of his 
 beard and his solemn ways bore their gaze with the 
 utmost tranquillity, shook the reins, and spoke en 
 couragingly to the horse. The animal stiffly re 
 sponded. At the same moment the locomotive gave 
 a shriek and started on its way, which lay parallel 
 with the street. There was a flutter of handkerchiefs 
 
4 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 at the windows, the horseman lifted his hat ; then the 
 train went on, and Clement Vaughan, once itinerant 
 preacher in Gainsborough, England, became an atom, 
 a speck, in the wide expanse of the Nevada plain, ab 
 solutely alone. 
 
 He turned in the saddle to look this way and that. 
 Wide stretches of gray, dusty soil, with leprous 
 blotches of alkali, he saw,, patches of sage brush, no 
 other growing thing, high mountains rimming the 
 horizon. Over him burned the blue of a cloudless sky. 
 Around him poured the limpid atmosphere. A curv 
 ing line of willows showed the path of the Humboldt 
 River. The one street of Battle Mountain stood out 
 straight and clea^r. All else was barren plain, sage 
 brush and alkali. 
 
 Towards the two little hills between which 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. At last 
 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 
 sage brush appeared the leaders of a string of mules. 
 They shied at sight of him, and the entire twenty 
 swerved from the road. The driver, seated on the off 
 wheel-horse in front of the first canvas-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 leaders and he 
 
IN THE SAGE BRUSH COUNTRY 5 
 
 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, backwards 
 and forwards, up and down, till he was out of breath, 
 and then he briefly and succinctly cursed the man in 
 his way, who, astonished at the picturesqueness of the 
 profanity, listened as to something new, forgetting 
 its significance. 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, " Wonderful ! " and 
 jogged along. 
 
 The road was a rough one, a mere path in the sage 
 brush widened by use. When the ruts had become too 
 deep others had been formed, to be abandoned in turn 
 for the first when these had been filled with drifting 
 sand or washed by heavy rains. For a mile or more 
 the road traversed the hills, then descended into the 
 Reese River Valley, but continued to cling to the base 
 of the mountains. All at once they entered the 
 ravine. 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 tear 
 ing 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, or with cleft ears or dew 
 laps slit in strings to tell who owned them. They eyed 
 
6 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the intruder suspiciously, swerved to one side as they 
 passed him and went down the ravine with impulsive, 
 aimless, shuffling gait. 
 
 A few miles farther the traveler came upon a de 
 serted 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 built 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 mountain, 
 stood a cluster of small houses, built alike, of rough 
 boards, with square fronts, doors set thick with win 
 dows, and " stoops " to offset th . slope of the canyon. 
 One of them was larger than the rest, and on its stoop 
 lounged a company of men: red-shirted miners, cow 
 boys 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 towards them. 
 
 " Good-evening, gentlemen," he began with boyish 
 confidence, " Can you direct me to Frank Henley s 
 Why, there you are!" he called joyously,, as a tall, 
 fair man appeared in the doorway. 
 
 " Clement Vaughan ! " cried the other, hurrying to 
 meet him. " We didn t expect you for a month. 
 I d have met you. Who gave you that rack-o -bones 
 to ride? Martin Young, Will Dower, this is my 
 
IN THE SAGE BRUSH COUNTRY 7 
 
 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 ! " exclaimed Vaughan. 
 " May, I d never have known you ! And can this be 
 Lilian? Ah, Mary!" he kissed her with brotherly 
 affection. 
 
 " Clement ! I am so glad ! " she cried, returning 
 his embrace, then held him at arm s length and scruti 
 nized him anxiously. " You look better than I ex 
 pected. I thought from what you wrote you d hardly 
 be able to take the journey. Our Nevada air will do 
 wonders for you. Look at me ! " 
 
 " I m looking," laughed Vaughan. " I 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 the 
 baby, and worrying over me." 
 
 Mary looked uncomfortable; there was an awk 
 ward pause and Frank lounged away murmuring 
 something about " that Chinaman." 
 
 " The others have had their supper," explained 
 Mary. " We always eat by ourselves. Do you want 
 
3 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSOX 
 
 to go to jour own room? Where dad joa get that 
 I** Chant** 
 
 " Thai," ClDt Ud it off at ami s length and 
 
 I lost !! out of toe window and bought 
 tin* at ffae next station, winch happened to be Ogden. 
 I said, * I will adopt in part, at least, the costume of 
 the State*/ Don t jou like it? 
 
 " It is utterly incongruous," she commented. 
 " And yet it doesn t seem so. on you." 
 
 * Whew, how dusty I am ! " he cried, giving him 
 self a shake. 
 
 " It s the sage brush," she replied " It covers 
 
 everyone. It s a sort of initiation, Clement. You ll 
 
 r be the same again. You ll always be 
 
 * sage brushy from now on at least while you re 
 
 ." 
 
 While fehe spoke she was leading him along a hall 
 ]jke the rest of the interior, with cheesecloth 
 which wall-paper had been pasted. Through 
 open doors Vaughan obtained a glimpse of a long 
 room containing half a dozen tables covered with red 
 rloths nnrj set with great cups and plates of thick 
 
 whifr rhin. i. 
 
 " How is Frank doing with his boarding house? " 
 
 1: i (J. 
 
 Mnry shook her head. "Only half the mines are 
 rimniri/r ;n id I hose may shut down. The superintend- 
 rnl jiroiiiisj-s J- rank his pay, but one cannot tell. 
 
IN THE SAGE BRUSH COUNTRY 9 
 
 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 is at the end of the hall." 
 
 Left to himself, Vaughan took off his coat and 
 shook it. A cloud of fine aromatic powder filled the 
 room, but apparently there was no diminution of the 
 stuff which had turned his black broadcloth to a rusty 
 gray. He glanced ruefully 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 impalpable dust. No amount of 
 brushing and shaking removed it. As Mary had 
 said, he had become " sage-brushy " and would so re 
 main. 
 
 " I don t ob j ect 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 otto 
 mans, its piano and pictures of Goethe and Shake 
 speare and Longfellow, and the shelf of well-chosen 
 volumes the Browning he had given her among 
 them. " I believe I rather like it," he added, sniff 
 ing at his sleeve. 
 
 "You will like it, more and more," said Mary 
 gravely. " It penetrates and flavors every part of 
 you, it claims you and you surrender." 
 
10 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 "How 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 
 oil, and full of bitterness." 
 
 " Supper s ready," interposed Frank, opening the 
 door. " You shall have a hen." 
 
 " That will be sage-brushy, too," said Mary with 
 a little laugh. " Ah, there s Sonia ! Come, baby," 
 she opened her arms to receive 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 comment, growing freer as 
 he left them and retired to his room. 
 
 " Too damn fresh," said Martin Young, the cattle- 
 owner, as he and Will Dower, who worked in the 
 Galena mine, sauntered down the canyon. " Talks 
 too much." 
 
 " He talks well," said Dower. " I like to hear him. 
 Most anybody would." There was a wistful tone in 
 his voice. He was wondering what Minnie Hollaway, 
 Frank Henley s niece, thought of the newcomer. 
 Martin Young was occupied with the same query: 
 hence the violence of his criticisms. 
 
 " Never had no razor touch him ! " he exclaimed 
 
IN THE SAGE BRUSH COUNTRY 11 
 
 contemptuously. " Never drank r smoked r chewed ! 
 What sort of a feller s that ! " 
 
 " Time will tell," said Will sententiously. 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 no telling about women 
 what they would do, or choose, or like, and Minnie 
 seemed mightily taken with this man. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 MINNIE settled the question disturbing the 
 minds and hearts of her lovers by accepting 
 the stranger as a being too good to be 
 trifled with, a man, and therefore interesting, but 
 beyond the reach of her small coquetries and blandish 
 ments. The awestruck tone in which she asked, " Mr. 
 Vaughan, will you have your eggs soft or hard?" 
 made Martin Young nestle in his chair, 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 polysyl 
 lables, now laughing outright at her efforts to express 
 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 seriously one 
 day when they were alone together in her sitting- 
 room. 
 
 If 
 
"FULFILLING HIS WORD" 13 
 
 ."I wish you took yourself more seriously," she 
 answered. " Clement, I believe you have changed 
 since you began 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." 
 
 " I haven t turned back," he answered serenely. 
 " I ve kept right on." 
 
 " But you always used to say you were going to 
 work for the Lord." 
 
 " I am, in the best way possible." He was be 
 coming restive under her probing, but she felt that 
 her cause was just and continued. 
 
 " Is there any better way than the one you found 
 as a lad, exhorting and teaching? 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 medicine and 
 surgery two years. They considered me an apt 
 scholar, Mary." 
 
 " Apt? You are apt at anything," she answered 
 with severity. " You can do whatever you choose. 
 You have the ten talents and will be held account 
 able. In preaching and teaching it was more than a 
 talent," she sighed. 
 
 " Oh, I m still < the Parson, " he answered lightly. 
 " Everyone but you recognizes that fact. Didn t you 
 hear those fellows last night? Sometimes I wish I 
 wasn t so conspicuously different from the other ani 
 mals." 
 
14 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " 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 disapprove of 
 my coming here, sudden as it was." 
 
 " They disapproved of Delia." 
 
 "We won t discuss Delia." 
 
 " 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 and disappointed women and learn of the heart 
 breaks and the tragedies ! " 
 
 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 said: 
 
 " If I believed in myself as you believe 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. " I don t mean that. I mean 
 spiritually." 
 
 " Would you undertake anything in your own 
 strength, Clement?" 
 
 " No, of course not," he replied with some im 
 patience. " But, Mary, try to understand. You 
 
"FULFILLING HIS WORD" 15 
 
 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 said earnestly. " I 
 know that I have spendthrift, dissolute blood in my 
 veins, as well as the desire for godliness. I haven t 
 been tempted yet, but I know temptation exists, for 
 me ; and not till I ve met and overcome it shall I be 
 fit for work of this sort." 
 
 " All the more reason, all the more reason," she 
 cried, " for you not to sit or stand, but go. 9 If you 
 have the sword of the Spirit and the shield of faith 
 you can meet temptation and conquer it." 
 
 He smiled and shook his head. " You don t know 
 how weak I am," he said 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 for everything ? " he 
 responded querulously. " Changes were bound to 
 come, new thoughts, new feelings, new desires. I 
 couldn t always remain the sensitive, confiding lad I 
 was when you left England." 
 
 " But you can let that lad determine what the 
 man shall be ! " Her eyes flashed through tears. 
 " Clement," she said 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 
 
16 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 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 serv 
 ice 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. " Not 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 announced the following day, Sunday, 
 that the young Methodist preacher who had recently 
 come out from England would hold services that 
 afternoon in Frank Henley s dining-room. 
 
 There was a pleasant stir of anticipation through 
 out 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 
 
"FULFILLING HIS WORD" 17 
 
 to be on good terms with one s neighbors and to sing 
 hymns. 
 
 When Vaughan came out of Mary s sitting-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 took his place at the piano and began to play 
 and sing: 
 
 "All hail the power of Jesus name! 
 
 Let angels prostrate fall; 
 Bring forth the royal diadem 
 
 And crown Him Lord of all." 
 
 " Crown Him ! " rang out Mary s exultant con 
 tralto, leading the sweet pipings of her little girls. 
 
 " Crown Him," sang Minnie Hollaway, soaring 
 in clear soprano beyond the reach of Martin and 
 William, 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 balancing himself with difficulty on 
 Mary s little sewing chair. Frank stood silent, 
 " taking it all in," a pleasant light in his small, sharp 
 hazel eyes. 
 
 The singer arose from the piano and opened his 
 
18 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 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 be 
 hind 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 believe in some 
 thing like fair play and order and a reason why. 
 
 The speaker had his audience with him from the 
 start, as he pictured the stormy wind obeying a Pur 
 pose ; and as he led up to man, the puppet, the autom 
 aton, 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 
 unconscious of his listeners, though not one of them 
 suspected it, except Mary. She saw him feel his 
 way along from premise to conclusion and exulted, 
 when he tied himself up irrevocably to what she be 
 lieved to be his lot. She saw the pallor of conviction 
 
"FULFILLING HIS WORD" 19 
 
 cross 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 there 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. 
 
 " I 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 
 say?" 
 
 " I don t know when I ve been so so edified," de 
 clared the Judge. " I assure you, Mr. Vaughan, it 
 takes me back to my childhood days, when I learned 
 religion at my mother s knee. I haven t forgotten 
 those days, sir, no indeed. I keep a Family Bible 
 in the court-room there at Lewis ; yes, sir, and it s an 
 object of of veneration, sir!" 
 
 " You were asking about our going over 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 cry from Macedonia, Come 
 
20 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 and help us. " The Judge beamed with appreciation 
 of his own aptness. 
 
 "When do you want me?" asked Clement. He 
 was very white, now that the glow had faded. 
 
 " Let s see, to-morrow night there s a political 
 meeting I have to attend," mused the Judge. " Tues 
 day 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," said Clement. " I ll 
 ride over. I have a horse." 
 
 " Why can t you come, too, Frank? " inquired 
 the Judge. 
 
 " I don t know of anything to hinder," said Henley. 
 " Yes, I ll come." 
 
 " We ll look for you, then, Sunday afternoon." 
 
 He shook hands with Vaughan by way of sealing 
 the agreement. "Don t fail us," he said with em 
 phasis. 
 
 " I ll come," the young man answered. 
 
 Mary Henley heard him, and again rejoiced, be 
 lieving, as she did, that the fulfilling of God s Word 
 was one with the fulfilling of her desire. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A SERVICE AT LOU PUGH*S 
 
 THAT isn t my horse," said Vaughan when 
 Henley introduced him to his mount, the 
 morning of their start for Lewis. 
 
 " No, yours fell apart. I opened the barn door too 
 suddenly," said Henley dryly. " I ll find you an 
 other. You can use this one till then." 
 
 " You find me too many things," said Vaughan im 
 petuously. " Frank, you re the most generous man 
 I ever saw," 
 
 " It s pride," said Frank coolly. " You don t sup 
 pose I m going to take you over to Lewis and have 
 everybody ask, What s Henley got there? In this 
 country it makes 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," re 
 turned Vaughan quickly. " I know how green I am. 
 What sort of a place is this we re going to? " 
 
 21 
 
22 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Lewis ? Very much like all the places around 
 here. One street: first a saloon, then a Chinese res 
 taurant, then a saloon, then a boarding-house, then 
 a dance-hall and a Chinese laundry, then another 
 saloon " 
 
 " Is it as bad as that? " 
 
 "Pretty bad, Clement. This isn t exactly Ar 
 cadia you ve come to." 
 
 They talked of other things of the big output at 
 Esmeralda, of the failure at Galena to " make good," 
 and what was doing at Ruby Hill. 
 
 Frank told of his struggles, of his ambitions for 
 the little girls. " This is no life for them," he said 
 abruptly, " or for their mother ; don t you suppose I 
 know that?" 
 
 Silence fell between them, broken only when 
 Clement asked about the strange growths he saw, the 
 stranger soils. He was amazed, overwhelmed, by the 
 piled-up chaos of the rocks, the dizzying distances. 
 " It is titanic," he exclaimed. " Merely to be in 
 such a place stretches a man ! " 
 
 " Aye, it stretches him," returned Frank grimly. 
 "But it doesn t fill him. That s just the trouble 
 with the poor devils you re going to preach to. 
 They re great wide-open mouths and stomachs with 
 nothing big enough and strong enough to satisfy 
 them." 
 
 Again they rode in silence and again Clement 
 broke forth, " The grotesqueness of it all ! " 
 
A SERVICE AT LOU PUGH S 23 
 
 " Not half so grotesque as some of the humans 
 you ll see before you re done," was the answer. 
 
 " It seems to me," said the young preacher, whose 
 tendency it was to analyze each new impression, " as 
 if Nature had started in to make something of this 
 country, and, finding it too hard for her, had aban 
 doned it in despair. Nothing but ruins look at 
 that!" 
 
 " I know better than to look," said Frank philo 
 sophically. " I ve known men who committed suicide 
 and women who went insane from looking. Come, 
 come, we shan t reach Lewis to-day." He whipped 
 up his horse and rode along at such a rate that his 
 companion had all he could do to keep up with him. 
 
 They fell in with Judge Weaver, on the outskirts 
 of the town, riding towards home on a big black horse. 
 The two looked like an equestrian statue set in motion. 
 
 " I think," he said, after greetings had been ex 
 changed, " that we ll hold the service at Lou Pugh s." 
 
 "Where is his residence?" inquired Vaughan 
 politely. 
 
 " He doesn t reside," said Frank. " He bunks 
 over the saloon." 
 
 " Oh," said Vaughan. 
 
 " You see," said the Judge confidentially, turning 
 to Vaughan, " he has quite a hall there. It s the 
 only place in town of any size." 
 
 " I thought perhaps the court-room " began 
 
 Vaughan. 
 
24 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Twelve 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." 
 
 Lewis was a typical mining camp, like Galena, but 
 newer and even more informal in its arrangement. 
 The same rough wooden houses, apparently thrown, 
 helter-skelter, in among the rocks, bore the same ap 
 pearance of " don t care " and " can t help it." In 
 the building which 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 anticipa 
 tion of their visit or desire for it, in a religious 
 capacity, although if they had come to drink, bet or 
 dance, there would have been plenty to welcome them. 
 Only one befuddled cowboy, attempting to do the 
 honors, sidled up to Vaughan and clapped him on the 
 shoulder, exclaiming, "Hello, stranger! Howdy? 
 Name your booze ! " 
 
 Judge Weaver promptly hastened to the rescue. 
 The embarrassed cowboy covered his confusion as he 
 reeled towards 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 
 music of a fiddle. In another, a man was calling off 
 
A SERVICE AT LOU PUGH S 25 
 
 numbers to a crowd about a table. At another table 
 men were throwing dice, and at still another card- 
 players 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 pasteboard in 
 their hands. The dancers looked, the girls with mock 
 ing 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 forward, 
 his round, good-humored face wreathed in smiles. 
 
 " Glad to see ye, gentlemen," he cried, seizing a 
 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 lightly lifted and as 
 lightly placed in front of the bar. By this time the 
 attention of all in the room had been attracted to the 
 spot where the Judge stood, pleasantly excited, and 
 Henley, watchful, interested, 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 some 
 where in the bottom of every human heart is a place 
 where it resembles every other human heart. He meant 
 to find it. Under the rouge, the tawdry finery of the 
 
26 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 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 stamp 
 ing on the bar. " Boys," he called, " Pve got a 
 surprise party for you. This camp ain t much on 
 religion. We ve never had a parson here before. But 
 Judge Weaver s brought a parson friend o his n 
 and I ve given him full swing for an hour. Treat 
 him white, boys, treat him white ! " He climbed down. 
 " Fire away, Parson," he directed. 
 
 " No, no, wait a minute," pleaded the barkeeper. 
 He hurried from the room and presently returned, 
 his arms filled with blankets. With these he pains 
 takingly draped the bar, the bottles, the beer and 
 whiskey barrels, the gaudy advertisements. " I was 
 raised better n this," he said to Vaughan. " I know 
 enough to realize that whisky n religion don t go 
 well together." 
 
 Delivered from an inappropriate background, 
 Vaughan took his place at the organ and began to 
 sing. Three or four other musical instruments which 
 had filled the room with a discordant din gave way to 
 him, but the fiddle still sighed deprecatingly through 
 the reel insisted upon by the two or three couples who 
 refused to give up their dance. Their companions 
 had dropped into chairs here and there, or stood gaz 
 ing at the singer. A drunken miner joined in, the 
 maudlin tears rolling down his foolish face. A broad- 
 
A SERVICE AT LOU PUGH S 27 
 
 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 card-tables 
 played on, deaf and blind to everything except their 
 game. Vaughan preached and then he prayed, 
 simply, gravely, with unmistakable sincerity. The 
 other dancers stopped, the fiddle ceased. Again the 
 organ and the singer led the way into the melody of 
 an old-fashioned hymn. Everyone in the room fol 
 lowed, except the gamblers. They kept on with their 
 game. 
 
 " Now," said Lou, remounting the chair behind the 
 bar, " the Parson s give us a first-rate song-and- 
 dance, and we want to do the square thing. Who ll 
 pass the hat? " 
 
 The cowboy with the kindly eyes volunteered and 
 went from group to group with his sombrero, not even 
 slighting the card-tables. When he emptied the hat 
 upon the bar, gold, silver, and red, blue and white 
 discs rolled out. 
 
 "Them are good for five dollars, and three, and 
 one," said Lou when Vaughan would have pushed 
 aside the discs. " Don t ye know poker chips ? " He 
 smiled commiseratingly. The innocence of the youth 
 touched him. " If you d like to sleep here to 
 night " he began hospitably. 
 
 " Why, yes, thank you," said Vaughan. He had 
 an idea, poor fellow, that he could keep these wild 
 beasts on the leash, curb, control them. They would 
 
28 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 not resume their orgies, he thought, while he, the 
 Parson, was so near. He told Henley, and Henley 
 told the Judge, and the two left, not seeing their way 
 clear to undeceiving him. 
 
 Lou led the way upstairs. Here, as below, there 
 was one huge room. It was divided by muslin cur 
 tains strung on wires. Into one of the compartments 
 Vaughan followed his guide. It contained three 
 beds. In one of them a drunken miner snored loudly, 
 on the outside of the second a cowboy was sleeping 
 with his boots on. Vaughan sat down on the edge of 
 the third and waited till he should be alone. 
 
 Before the saloon-keeper had descended the stairs 
 Bedlam again broke loose, ten times as violent, ten 
 times as reckless of consequences as before. The 
 fiddle squeaked, the dancers shuffled and stamped, 
 dice rattled, cards clicked, the roulette-wheel whirled 
 its ball. Oaths, foul talk, the calls of the gamblers, 
 shrill laughter more horrible than cries of pain pene 
 trated the thin floor. There was an angry ejacula 
 tion answered savagely. A gambler had been caught 
 cheating. Someone called sharply, " Look out ! " 
 There was a long, sobbing sigh and something fell 
 heavily. 
 
 Then* there were hurried directions, "Lay him 
 down!" "Go, fetch Dr. Addison!" "Take him 
 upstairs ! " And many feet climbed up stumblingly. 
 
 Vaughan met them. " Take him in here," he di 
 rected. " Put him on my bed." 
 
A SERVICE AT LOU PITCH S 29 
 
 It was the cowboy with the kindly eyes. He had a 
 knife-wound in his side. The doctor came running. 
 
 "Bring a basin of wat^r, and cloths," he ordered. 
 His quick glance traveled over the bloated faces and 
 bleared eyes around him till he came to Vaughan. 
 " You ll have to help me," he said briefly. 
 
 Vaughan caught at the bed-post. The room was 
 growing dark. He snatched at one of the towels 
 the barkeeper was fetching, dipped it in the pitcher of 
 iced water and wrapped it about his neck. 
 
 His hand was steadier than the surgeon s now. Be 
 tween them they bandaged the wound and stopped the 
 flow of blood. 
 
 "What s your name? " inquired the doctor. 
 
 " Vaughan. And yours ? " 
 
 " Addison. I hope we shall meet again." 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 They shook hands and parted. Vaughan drew the 
 one chair to the window and looked down into the 
 street. A bonfire had been kindled. The flames 
 crackled and roared, and danced with the shadows. 
 In the glare Vaughan saw a miner asleep in a chair 
 by the door of the saloon. Someone else had seen 
 him, another miner chuckling like a fiend over what 
 he was about to do. In his hand he held a short, 
 round stick, to the end of which a string was attached. 
 He laid it under the chair and set a match to it. The 
 dynamite exploded downwards with a loud report. 
 The sleeping man awoke with a yell, unhurt but 
 
30 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 terrified. The dancers ran out and screamed with 
 him, then ran back to drink and dance once more. 
 
 And these were the men and women for whom 
 Christ died ! thought the watcher by the window. Hell 
 seemed to him to yawn before their willful feet, as 
 real as the bonfire in the street. Who would save 
 them? Who would save this wounded boy sobbing 
 and sighing in his sleep? 
 
 To Clement Vaughan there was but one answer. 
 The cry of the young Isaiah rose to his lips, " Here 
 am I, send me ! " 
 
 " Touch my lips with a live coal from off thine 
 altar," he prayed. 
 
 Dawn was beginning, the clear, cool, bright Nevada 
 dawn. It bathed him where he stood, anointing him 
 with its white fire; brow, lips and pleading hands. 
 And a great peace filled him, the peace of one whose 
 prayer is heard, whose sacrifice is accepted. 
 
 It was still early when Henley brought the horses 
 around to the door of the saloon. They walked away 
 into the freshness of the morning, lifting their heads 
 as they drank it in. No questions were asked, no con 
 fidences were vouchsafed until the little Galena settle 
 ment came in view. Then Vaughan said briefly, 
 "Frank, I feel that I have been called to do a work 
 here, among these people." 
 
 " Better write to Delia before you decide that 
 matter," Frank replied. 
 
 Mary was standing in the doorway watching for 
 
A SERVICE AT LOU PUGH S 31 
 
 them. They threw their bridles to the Indian who 
 helped Frank in his stable and went on up the steps. 
 
 Mary hardly saw her husband. She was studying 
 Clement s face. It was the face of an old man, lined 
 and seamed. 
 
 He stretched out his hands to her with a pathetic 
 gesture. She caught them and clasped them to her. 
 " You have decided " 
 
 " To do the work, Mary," he said simply, and she 
 ejaculated: 
 
 "Thank God!" 
 
 " Better write to Delia first," said Frank, passing 
 on into the house. 
 
 " I m going to write to her to-night," said 
 Vaughan. 
 
 Delia was his wife. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 SENT TO EUREKA 
 
 IT was not Mary Henley s way to wait when she 
 had made up her mind. While Vaughan was 
 writing to Delia, she wrote to John Harman, 
 Superintendent of Missions at Carson City, telling 
 him certain things she felt it was well for him to 
 know about her friend Clement Vaughan ; and the two 
 letters went out to the mailbag together. 
 
 Frank walked uneasily to and fro while the letters 
 were being written. " Don t put it too strong, 
 Clement," he urged ; " Be careful, Mary, what you 
 say," and the two scribes answered, " Yes," absent- 
 mindedly, and went on, giving expression to their 
 full hearts. 
 
 Within a week John Harman was at Galena an 
 swering Mary s letter in person. There was no time 
 to be lost in a thing of this kind, and he was short of 
 men. At Lewis he encountered Judge Weaver, who 
 told him more about the young man. It was already 
 pretty well settled in Harman s mind where he would 
 place Vaughan if he proved all these enthusiastic 
 people thought. Eureka was just the opening for a 
 live, zealous, energetic, devoted young missionary. 
 
 He would find plenty to do. Things had been going 
 38 
 
SENT TO EUREKA 33 
 
 wrong at Eureka for the last six or eight years ; no 
 regular members, no salary except that provided by 
 the mission fund, and strong opposition. Everybody 
 who was anything went to the Episcopal and Baptist 
 churches. Vaughan ought to be able to draw his 
 share of these. So he mused, and saw coming down 
 the ravine the man whom he sought. 
 
 A week of Nevada air and exercise had obliterated 
 in Vaughan traces of his journey and of the experi 
 ence at Lewis, and the steadjdng effect of his new 
 resolution was apparent in voice and gait. As he 
 came swinging down the mountain road, singing to 
 himself, he brought with him a fine flavor of youthful 
 purpose and God-given charm. 
 
 The heart of the Superintendent of Missions 
 warmed to him. Men occasionally experience towards 
 each other the sensation termed between the sexes 
 Love-at-first-sight. Sympathy, confidence, affection 
 even were kindled in behalf of the young man who 
 stepped so lightly, sang so joyously, and when he 
 gave his hand gave something with it which inspired 
 and strengthened. 
 
 As he walked along by the horse, answering Har- 
 man s questions, putting others, the Superintendent 
 began to feel like a father towards him and to say 
 mentally, " This boy s too good to be sacrificed to 
 Eureka." 
 
 When they reached Frank Henley s, he threw his 
 leg over the horse s back and sat there, sideways. 
 
34 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Vaughan waited inquiringly. 
 
 " There is a place at Virginia City," said the 
 Superintendent confidentially; "four thousand and 
 the parsonage. How would you like to go there? " 
 
 Vaughan s eyes sparkled. Even Delia would be 
 satisfied with four thousand and a parsonage. But 
 was this the work to which he had vowed himself in 
 the white dawn at Lewis? Again the scenes of that 
 hellish night rose before him : the drinking, dancing, 
 quarreling horde, the wounded man sobbing and sigh 
 ing in his sleep, the glare of the bonfire, the drunken 
 miner with the dynamite. Again he heard the oaths, 
 the ribald talk, the explosion, the screams, and again 
 he said to himself, " These are the men and women for 
 whom Christ died." 
 
 "Perhaps you d rather think it over," suggested 
 the Superintendent, noting the young preacher s 
 hesitation. 
 
 " No, sir ; I can give you my answer now," returned 
 Vaughan steadily. " There ll be enough to take such 
 a place as that. Send me where no one else will go." 
 
 "All right," said the Superintendent, relieved. 
 " We ll send you to Eureka." 
 
 That night Clement wrote again to Delia, more 
 fully than before. Exulting that his own heart had 
 not failed, he gave hers a chance. He told her what 
 he had done, how he had refused the easy place and 
 the big pay, and had chosen the hard place with no 
 pay worth mentioning, and appealed to her as his 
 
SENT TO EUREKA 
 
 wife, his helpmate, to join him in the sacrifice, de 
 voting her life, as he had devoted his, to the further 
 ing of the work. When he had finished and reread 
 his letter he did not see how anyone, man or woman, 
 could resist those burning words. Mary Henley, to 
 whom he intrusted the contents, felt as he did. He 
 did not take Frank into his confidence. 
 
 The men at Galena spoke approvingly of the stand 
 Vaughan had taken. They said he was " onto his 
 job." The women made of him a hero especially 
 Minnie Hollaway. She would have liked to have him 
 take her life in his hands and shape it, tell her exactly 
 what she should and should not do. When he did not 
 accept the opportunities she gave him to do this, she 
 went at the matter point-blank. 
 
 " Mr. Vaughan," she said one morning, when the 
 Henleys were preparing for a day-long drive, and 
 Minnie and the Parson were alone in the sitting-room 
 together, " I want to ask you something very impor 
 tant." 
 
 " I shall be very glad to help you, if I can," re 
 turned Vaughan gravely. 
 
 " Do you think a girl ought to marry a man when 
 she doesn t love him?" pursued Minnie. "There s 
 Martin Young I don t know why I should make 
 any secret of it, he doesn t he thinks he could make 
 me care, but I don t think so. And I do like William 
 Dower, if he is only a miner." 
 
 " It is a great mistake to marry on any other basis 
 
36 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 than that of affection," said Vaughan loftily, and be 
 gan a discourse on love, marriage, and the respon 
 sibilities of life, which more than satisfied Minnie s 
 expectations. 
 
 The Henleys interrupted him with farewells and 
 orders for the day, but Clement had already said 
 some very good things of which he made a mental 
 note for future use. 
 
 Minnie took every word as gospel truth, to be fol 
 lowed to the letter. When the men came in for dinner 
 she snubbed Martin so openly, so openly favored Wil 
 liam and so plainly looked to Vaughan for approval 
 that Martin was not slow to place the responsibility 
 where it belonged, and said to himself, " He done it; 
 he put her up to it, damn him ! I ll get square with 
 him! " 
 
 After dinner he gathered all the idlers in the place 
 and promised them some fun. He was going to offer 
 to give Black Birdie to the Parson if he would ride 
 her. 
 
 " Black Birdie ! " exclaimed Jo ; " do you think the 
 Parson s a fool?" 
 
 " She broke the cinch when Jack Henshaw was 
 trying to break her," said Tim. 
 
 " What she needs," returned Martin, " is a nice 
 p lite-spoken gent like the Parson. She don t take to 
 no vaquero. Tim, you throw a saddle over her and 
 bring her a-f ront of the store. I ll have the Parson 
 along in a jiffy." 
 
SENT TO EUREKA 37 
 
 " Betcher he won t come ! " said Jo. 
 
 " Take ye," said Tim. 
 
 " What ll ye make it? Come now ! " 
 
 Betting became lively, first as to whether the Par 
 son would come, second as to which would win. Here 
 odds were all on the horse. 
 
 While they discussed the subject Martin and the 
 Parson appeared on Henley s stoop, while Tim 
 brought to the front of the store the curveting, danc 
 ing, plunging creature, black and lustrous as a bit of 
 coal. 
 
 If Vaughan had been inclined to hesitate, all 
 scruples vanished when he saw the horse. 
 
 " What a beauty ! " he cried and bounded across 
 the street. Martin sauntered after, winking first 
 one eye and then the other at the conspirators, as they 
 stood around grinning. 
 
 Black Birdie continued to prance, and to pull Tim 
 this way and that. The sunlight rippled over her 
 dazzling flanks, her quivering nostrils showed their 
 scarlet lining, her great eyes rolled from side to 
 side. Everything she saw sent great shuddering 
 waves of terror and resistance through her sensitive 
 bod} . 
 
 " Blindfold her ! " called Martin, and one of the 
 men whipped out a handkerchief and tied it over the 
 restless eyes. 
 
 " Now, Parson," he said encouragingly, " git on 
 if you dass to." 
 
38 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " If I " Vaughan ended with a leap which 
 
 landed him on Black Birdie s tail. 
 
 The onlookers roared with delight. 
 
 Nerved to supreme effort by their derision, he 
 made another spring and this time gained the 
 saddle. 
 
 " Let her go ! " he directed. The men obeyed, 
 whipping off the bandage. 
 
 With great leaps the terrified animal bounded for 
 ward. Reaching the slope of the canyon, she clam 
 bered straight up its almost perpendicular sides, 
 her iron-shod hoofs ringing against the rocks. 
 Vaughan clung to the horn of the saddle, his coat- 
 tails floating out behind. Up, up went the horse, 
 snorting and struggling, then suddenly stopped and 
 shook like an aspen. 
 
 " Go on ! " shouted Vaughan. Hoarse shouts an 
 swered him from below. The crowd was beginning 
 to sympathize and applaud. 
 
 " Hang to it, Parson ! they called. " Stick to 
 her!" 
 
 Black Birdie wheeled and looked down the way she 
 had come, shivering. 
 
 " Do you want to go down ? " asked the rider. " All 
 right, we ll go down." 
 
 Still quivering, the mare sank upon her haunches. 
 Up went the Parson s long legs upon her neck, arid 
 so together, horse and man, they slid down the side of 
 the canyon. 
 
SENT TO EUREKA 39 
 
 Below, the excitement intensified. When Black 
 Birdie reached the level, the pair were at once sur 
 rounded, but they broke through the ring and went 
 clattering down the road. 
 
 "There goes your horse, Mart," said Tim, and 
 they all damned the Methodist approvingly for a 
 first-rate horseman ! 
 
 While they stood there Minnie Hollaway came 
 running down the road. " You just wait till my 
 uncle gets home, Martin Young," she called indig 
 nantly. "He ll attend to you" Then she turned 
 and ran back to the house before anyone could 
 stop her. 
 
 Vaughan was by this time halfway down the 
 canyon. He burst upon the astonished Henleys as 
 they came slowly up the ravine, his dark hair flying, 
 his black beard blown about him like a veil. 
 
 " What on earth ! " began Henley. 
 
 Vaughan wheeled and reined in beside the buck- 
 board. 
 
 "My horse!" he cried jubilantly. "Martin 
 Young said I might have her if I d ride her. We 
 climbed up the mountain and tobogganed down." 
 
 " I ll be darned ! " exclaimed Henley. 
 
 " Let s see you make her go ! " shrilled the little 
 girls. Mary said nothing, but clasped the sleeping 
 Sonia to her, looking grave. Could this be the man 
 who had returned from Lewis, worn and bowed with 
 the realization of what he had seen there? 
 
40 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " How do you like my new horse, Mary ? " pur 
 sued Clement, determined to make her speak. 
 
 " Of course you can t have her in Eureka," she 
 answered. 
 
 " That ll be all right. I ll take care of her until 
 you re ready for her," said Frank. His respect for 
 Clement had measurably increased. 
 
 After supper he beckoned the young man into the 
 deserted dining-room. " I ve been thinking," he said 
 in a low voice, " before you go I ought to give you 
 
 a few lessons in " he glanced cautiously up and 
 
 down the hall before he added, " boxing. Eureka s 
 a pretty tough place. You don t carry a shooting- 
 iron, and it s a good thing to be prepared to 
 defend yourself." He closed the dining-room door 
 and from a lower drawer in the sideboard brought 
 out the gloves. 
 
 Clement drew on the pair handed him and 
 " squared off." 
 
 " You ve seen these things before," exclaimed Hen 
 ley suspiciously. 
 
 " Only seen them. Father wouldn t let us fight 
 when we were boys. Come on." Clement danced 
 towards him. 
 
 Henley " came on," tenderly at first, but growing 
 freer, as his opponent proved his ability and willing 
 ness to give hard hits and take them. 
 
 " You put up a fair game," he said as they stood 
 facing each other and panting, after the first bout. 
 
SENT TO EUREKA 41 
 
 " Now I ll show you a trick which will help you out 
 of any tight scrape you may get into. When you 
 find your opponent is getting the better of you, give 
 him the rabbit hit, this way." Henley rapidly pawed 
 the air, hand over hand, and finished by tapping his 
 adversary lightly under the chin. " Then land him, 
 see?" . , 
 
 " I see," said Vaughan. 
 
 " Now, then, try it. Come on. Ready ? 
 
 " Ready," and Clement advanced. 
 
 It was while he was in this position, driving Henley 
 before him and beating the air like a maniac, that the 
 door opened and Mary appeared on the threshold. 
 
 " Clement ! Frank ! " she called reproachfully. 
 
 They turned. Frank looked confused, but Clement 
 went straight up to her. 
 
 "Didn t I do that well?" he asked, kissing her.* 
 " Frank has been teaching me the manly art of self- 
 defense. I should have given him the knock-out 
 blow in another minute, if you hadn t come in not 
 a real one, you know, but a make-believe." 
 
 He drew off his gloves and threw them on the table. 
 " Come on," he said, taking her affectionately by 
 the arm. " There s something in one of the magazines 
 I want to read to you." 
 
 Mary suffered herself to be led back to the sitting- 
 room, silenced but far from reassured. It was with 
 intense relief that she welcomed Clement s formal 
 appointment to the Eureka Mission, a few days later. 
 
42 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 The necessary preparations were soon made. His 
 library and desk he had already ordered sent out from 
 England. His other belongings were few and unim 
 portant. No letters had yet come, in response to 
 those that he had written. 
 
 At last the morning arrived for his departure. 
 Three-fourths of Galena were on hand to see him go. 
 Frank sat in the buckboard which was to convey them 
 to Battle Mountain, watching the farewells, smil 
 ing quizzically as he noted Minnie s red eyes. There 
 was a look of apprehension on Mary s nun-like face. 
 " She doesn t feel quite sure of him, yet," thought 
 Frank. " That boxing business, and the horse, under 
 mined her confidence. Come on, come on ! " he 
 called impatiently, but Vaughan must shake hands 
 with each one and give each a special word. 
 
 " Come back soon ! " piped Lilian, and Baby Sonia 
 crowed and kicked in her mother s arms to get at 
 him. He waved his hand to her, took his seat beside 
 Frank and the horses dashed away. 
 
 Two or three days later the letters came, a 
 bulky packet, one apiece from Clement s father and 
 mother, one from the old minister who trained him, 
 four from Delia. It was easy to discern the sequence 
 of these without looking at the dates of mailing. The 
 first and second were addressed with many flourishes 
 to the Reverend Clement Vaughan. Respect and 
 deference were revealed in the shaping of each word. 
 The third letter was directed to " Clement Vaughan " 
 
SENT TO EUREKA 43 
 
 without title or compromise. The fourth, addressed 
 to C. Vaughan, Esq., said as plainly as handwriting 
 could, " You deserve as little as possible, and that not 
 of the best." 
 
 " Delia was pretty mad when she wrote that," 
 soliloquized Frank. 
 
 " I dread to send it to him," exclaimed Mary. 
 ** Just as he is starting and all ! " 
 
 " Oh, well, he can t expect anything else, under the 
 circumstances. He ll have to stand it," said Frank. 
 But he was as well satisfied as she was, when day after 
 day passed without furnishing an opportunity to 
 send the letter to Eureka. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 
 
 JACK PERRY stood in the door of his 
 saloon and looked up the street, swearing 
 softly at what he saw. Jack was not a man 
 to swear indefinitely, exuberantly, with a long string 
 of oaths which meant nothing. Nor did he waste his 
 expletives. When Jack swore it was because the 
 occasion demanded it, as now. 
 
 What he saw was the wide-open door of the unused 
 Methodist church, halfway up the hill, with a slender, 
 dark-robed figure darting in and out. 
 
 " I ll be damned," said Jack, " if he ain t settin 
 up housekeepin right in the shop. Well, he means 
 to stay with it! " 
 
 This was precisely what Vaughan meant to do. 
 After a two days trial of " the Widder McClintock s" 
 boarding-house he had decided to " keep himself," 
 and there being a long, narrow, empty place in the 
 church behind the audience-room, he conceived the 
 idea of turning it into a study and bedroom. 
 
 Pending the consent of the Superintendent, to 
 whom he conscientiously wrote at once, he moved in. 
 What Jack saw were the final preparations ; the nar- 
 
 44 
 
THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 45 
 
 row iron bed, the wooden chair, a wash-bowl and 
 pitcher. 
 
 " He ain t goin in for luxuries," muttered Jack ; 
 " but he means to wash," and he swore again. 
 
 The next day a number of packing-boxes arrived, 
 containing the books, the desk, and the chair, sent for 
 weeks ago. * \ 
 
 Vaughan was too busy to do more than snatch a 
 hasty meal from the nearest grocery, between unpack 
 ing and setting up his books on long shelves which 
 extended the entire length of the apartment on both 
 sides. At one end, by a window, stood the desk and 
 chair. The other end, partitioned off for a bedroom, 
 held the bed, the wooden chair and a wash-stand, 
 the latter made out of a packing-box. Over it he 
 had tacked some chintz. 
 
 As he stood up and stretched himself, after this 
 last fastidious touch, he felt as any living thing feels 
 when it has made for itself a home. He had now 
 a shell, a covering, a castle. Out of it he could go 
 to meet the world, into it he could retire when he 
 was through with the world, save such select portions 
 as he might invite inside. 
 
 The two Sundays since he came to Eureka he had 
 had respectively ten and twelve in the congregation. 
 This would never do. He must plan some way to 
 attract hearers to the searching, kindling sermons 
 he meant to preach. 
 
 He walked out to the front door of the church and 
 
46 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 looked down at the saloon, as the owner of it had 
 looked up at him. There were enough people going 
 into that place, he thought enviously. Why shouldn t 
 some of them come to him? He seized his sombrero 
 and hurried down the hill. 
 
 " Pere Hyacinthe " was serving drinks at the bar. 
 He was not really Pere Hyacinthe, but resembled that 
 illustrious man so closely that no one called him any 
 thing else. 
 
 The Parson advanced and held out his hand. " I m 
 Vaughan, the new Methodist preacher," he announced, 
 as if Pere Hyacinthe ought to be glad there was one 
 and that this was the man. " Are you the pro 
 prietor? " 
 
 Pere Hyacinthe shook his head. " Jack s in there," 
 he said, pointing to one of the little rooms opening 
 into the big one. He thought the new preacher had 
 come to talk with him about his soul and he was too 
 busy to enter upon any such unprofitable discussion. 
 " Jack," he called, " here s someone lookin for 
 
 ye." 
 
 Jack came out of the little room. Six-feet-four 
 he stood, with shoulders that matched his height, 
 gray-haired, smooth-shaven, stooped a little, limped 
 a little, rheumatism had somewhat crippled his hands. 
 He was no longer the man who had kept order in 
 Virginia City in the old days, when to be sheriff in 
 such a place meant killing somebody at frequent inter 
 vals in order to preserve the lives of the rest; but he 
 
THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 47 
 
 was Jack Perry still, and Vaughan, without knowing 
 his history, felt its influence. 
 
 "I m Vaughan," he said, holding out his hand as 
 he had to Pere Hyacinthe, " the new Methodist 
 preacher. I came to ask if there was any objection 
 to my putting up a little notice in your place, invit 
 ing the men to my services ? " 
 
 Jack s eyes twinkled. " I ain t never advertised 
 your sort o wares," he said in his slow drawl. " They 
 most gen ally conflict with mine." 
 
 " Everyone comes here," pursued Vaughan, too 
 much in earnest to take in the full humor of the 
 situation. " There ought to be a few who would come 
 to me once in a while." 
 
 " Certain," said Jack. 
 
 " Well, then, if you don t mind I ll run home and 
 write out the notice and come back here and tack 
 it up." 
 
 "All right," said Jack, and Vaughan hurried 
 away. 
 
 Jack stood looking after him, hands deep in his 
 trousers pockets, chuckling to himself, when Mat 
 Kyle drew near. Mat was sheriff at Eureka and the 
 two were friends. 
 
 " What s so tarn funny ? " inquired Mat, twisting 
 his short, fat neck to examine Jack s expression. 
 
 It told him nothing further than the fact that Jack 
 was enjoying himself, and he turned to follow the 
 .whimsical steel-gray eyes in their journey up the 
 
48 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 street. Vaughan was just then disappearing within 
 the church, his long coat-tails, as usual, flying out 
 behind. 
 
 " The Parson? " queried Mat. 
 
 Jack nodded. " He wants me to advertise his 
 gospel-shop in my saloon. Sent here by the Methodys 
 to spile my business, and will I help him do it ! " Jack 
 laughed aloud. 
 
 " He s got his gall with him," commented Mat. 
 
 " Don t say a word," returned the saloon-keeper. 
 " Let him work, let him work." 
 
 Vaughan hurried down the hill, hammer and tacks 
 in one hand and in the other a neatly printed notice, 
 which he handed to Jack. " If you ll run your eye 
 over that, Mr. Perry," he said deferentially. 
 
 Jack obeyed. There was nothing to offend the 
 most sensitive, a mere statement of hours and 
 themes. 
 
 " That s all right," he said, handing the paper 
 back to the Methodist. " Put it where you like." 
 
 Vaughan selected a vacant space between the 
 picture of a female with floating hair and preternat- 
 urally large eyes, offering an open box of " Lone 
 Star," and a presentment of " Highland Whiskies : 
 The Best," and tacked up the notice. 
 
 As he stood back and confronted it, well pleased 
 with the result, suddenly the lowing of cattle was 
 heard in the street and their muffled tread, then the 
 cry of a child. 
 
THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 49 
 
 They rushed to the door. Down the road from the 
 Geiger Grade poured a mass of shaggy heads and 
 tossing horns. 
 
 "Mart Young takin steers to Shed Wellman," 
 commented Mat, and then, " Good God, look at 
 that!" 
 
 Straight in the path of the onward-moving, living 
 tide, a little girl in a tricycle was doing her futile 
 best to get out of the way. Behind her a white- 
 capped maid screamed for help while she pushed the 
 small vehicle frantically along, adding her inadequate 
 strength to that of the child. 
 
 Jack and Mat sprang forward, but Vaughan was 
 there before them. He quickly lifted the child out 
 of the carriage, caught the maid by the arm and 
 returned with them to a place of safety. 
 
 The cattle surged past, followed by men on horse 
 back. One of them was Martin Young. They shouted 
 hoarsely, deftly swinging their riatas as they rode 
 here and there around the drove. 
 
 " Sure tis Nora Flynn that ll niver forget this 
 day," murmured the maid, straightening her cap. 
 She still held fast to the tricycle. A great hoof had 
 gone through one of the wheels. " Nor you, sir," 
 she added, turning to Vaughan with a grateful look. 
 " Say thank you prettily to the gentleman, Miss 
 Elsie, and we ll go on." 
 
 But Miss Elsie only wound her arms more tightly 
 around Vaughan s neck and burrowed in liis beard. 
 
50 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " I ll carry her home," said Vaughan. " She hasn t 
 recovered from her fright yet. Where do you 
 live? " 
 
 " On Richmond Hill, sor. "Tis quite a piece. An* 
 she a great big five-year-old gell ! Try, Miss Elsie, 
 darlin , if ye can t walk." 
 
 Elsie only shook her curls and looked obstinate. 
 
 "Go ahead," said Vaughan to the maid; "I ll 
 carry her for a while anyway." 
 
 " What Mis Chisholm 11 say, I dunno," replied 
 Nora, but she led the way and Vaughan followed. 
 "Mis Chisholm s the little gell s mother," she 
 explained. " She lives in that big house that ye see 
 over there, wid her brother Mr. Sinclair and his wife 
 and little gell. An Miss Emmeline that s Mis 
 Chisholm s older sister lives wid em." 
 
 "Ah?" said Clement. 
 
 " Yis, sor. Mis Chisholm only been here a year ; 
 she was a-travelin aroun since Mr. Chisholm died, 
 but now she s come back and fixed everything up 
 nice, a little glass house for flowers and all. She 
 owns a half of the Richmond mine, and so does her 
 brother. He s superintendent along o Mr. Eugene 
 Wilkins." 
 
 " Ah ? " said Vaughan again. 
 
 " Tis a nice place, sor, the nicest hereabouts. And 
 they re nice folks, too. I haven t been living wid em 
 long. I belong in Eureka. There s two gells Mis 
 Chisholm brought, and Jerry Flynn he s my cousin 
 
THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 51 
 
 works there, too. Don t ye think ye could walk 
 up the hill, Miss Elsie, darlin ? " 
 
 But the small despot only tightened her grip on 
 Clement s coat collar. 
 
 " Her mother will think somethin has happened," 
 fretted Nora. " There she comes now ! " 
 
 The door of the large, attractive house before them 
 opened and a charming figure in a clinging mauve 
 gown flew down the hill. 
 
 " What is it ! " cried a shrill, sweet voice. " Elsie, 
 dearest ! " 
 
 She caught the child out of Vaughan s arms. 
 
 " She ain t hurted, mum," insisted Nora. " Tell 
 her ye ain t hurted, Miss Elsie. She ain t hurted, 
 is she, sor?" 
 
 " I think not," said Vaughan, removing his hat. 
 
 The lady seemed to see him for the first time. 
 " You were very kind to bring my child home," she 
 said graciously. "What happened?" Her glance 
 fell on the tricycle. " Oh, there has been some ter 
 rible accident ! " 
 
 " Only to the machine," said Vaughan soothingly. 
 " The little girl is unhurt. She was frightened, that 
 was all." 
 
 Again the lady looked at him with slow, curious 
 gaze. What she saw apparently pleased her. She 
 held out a firm white hand and smiled as she said, 
 " From the motions my maid has been going through 
 behind your back I am convinced you ve been doing 
 
52 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 some fine, heroic thing for which you do not wish to 
 be thanked." She turned to the child. "Elsie, 
 can t you introduce me to your new friend ? " 
 
 " I am Clement Vaughan, very much at your serv 
 ice, madam," he said quickly. 
 
 "And I am Mrs. Katharine Chisholm. If you 
 will allow this young lady to bring you into the 
 
 house " Elsie s tiny fingers still clutched his 
 
 coat. 
 
 " Not to-day, thank you." He took the child s 
 hand in his. " Not now, my little friend. Some day." 
 
 He transferred the child s hand to her mother s, 
 again lifted his hat and took his leave. 
 
 " He s a rale gintlemon," began Nora Flynn, " and 
 bould as a lion." At last she could tell her story. 
 
 Katharine repeated it, with embellishments of her 
 own, that evening, when the men came in her brother 
 Arthur, Ned Wilkins, the Assistant Superintendent; 
 Frederic Haverford, the young-old Episcopal clergy 
 man, and Eugene Winslow, " the only lawyer in 
 the place," his friends declared, though Sam Barker, 
 the founder of the D. P. I., practiced when he was 
 sober. 
 
 Mabel Sinclair, Arthur s wife, came down later, 
 looking like a Sir Joshua portrait in her artificially 
 simple white gown, with her mist of soft dark hair 
 and dreamy eyes ; and Miss Emmeline Sinclair, the 
 spinster sister, dainty as a bit of rare porcelain in her 
 faint, faded prettiness. 
 
THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 53 
 
 There was hardly an evening when these seven did 
 not meet in the pleasant parlors on Richmond Hill. 
 Sometimes Katharine and Mabel played and sang, 
 sometimes Haverford joined them at the piano, 
 occasionally they had cards ; of tenest, as on this 
 occasion, they talked of what had happened during 
 the day. 
 
 To-night there was but one topic for discussion, 
 the rescue of Elsie and the maid, set forth in glowing 
 colors by Katharine. Each one of the company in 
 turn made use of the opportunity to have some fun 
 at her expense. 
 
 " You ll lose your * leading lady member, Haver- 
 ford," laughed Arthur Sinclair. " Kate will go 
 straight over to the Methodists." 
 
 " I m crazy to see him," exclaimed Mabel. " After 
 Kate s description." 
 
 " How did she describe him? " cried a chorus of 
 voices. 
 
 A warning glance shot from Katharine s gray eyes 
 into her sister-in-law s meek brown ones. 
 
 " I m not going to tell, Kitty. You needn t look 
 at me like that ! " said Mabel. 
 
 "Have you seen him?" inquired Miss Sinclair of 
 Eugene Winslow. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Winslow, with the little twitch of 
 the upper lip which denoted in him some sarcasm 
 coming. 
 
 He petted his black mustache before he continued, 
 
54 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " I see him every day. He does light housekeep 
 ing in the back of the church. Haverford calls 
 him " He looked at the clergyman before pro 
 ceeding. 
 
 " Go ahead," said Haverford. 
 
 " The Sage Brush Parson, " finished Winslow. 
 
 " That s not bad," continued Arthur, but Katha 
 rine colored. 
 
 " Aren t you all Sage Brush Parsons ? " she de 
 manded of Haverford. 
 
 " Ah, but he gwovels in it," exclaimed Haverford, 
 whose r s escaped him when he became excited. " He 
 spwinkles himself with it, as the Romanists spwinkle 
 themselves with ashes. The rest of us do brush our 
 clothes ! " he glanced over his immaculate person and 
 flecked a bit of lint from his sleeve. 
 
 " And I don t see why a man should take pride in 
 not shaving," Winslow continued with that sinister 
 twitch of the lip. " Perhaps it wasn t convenient 
 where he came from, or customary." 
 
 " He came from England," said Wilkins quietly. 
 " He is an educated man and a gentleman." 
 
 Katharine gave the speaker a grateful glance. 
 Under its influence he went on. 
 
 " I ve had several talks with him. He is peculiar, 
 but he s quite a genius in his way, a good deal of a 
 musician." 
 
 " No doubt the fellow s all right," granted Haver 
 ford. 
 
THREE FRIENDS AND AN ENEMY 55 
 
 " If you want that kind," finished Winslow. 
 
 " How horrid you all are ! " exclaimed Katharine, 
 going to the piano. " I m going to play you into 
 another mood." 
 
 Winslow sprang to turn her music, as he had been 
 in the habit of doing of late, but she beckoned Wilkins 
 to her. For the first time in months the young lawyer 
 left the house without the private, personal word 
 which had given each day its meaning. Yet Katha 
 rine had put on that mauve gown because he liked 
 it and she was wearing his flowers at her belt. 
 
 " What was it that Kitty said to you about the 
 Methodist, Mabel? " inquired Arthur, when he was 
 alone with his wife. "How did she describe him to 
 you?" 
 
 Mabel shook her hair about her face. " I ll never 
 tell you," she said. 
 
 " Yes, you will," he replied, drawing the soft locks 
 together under her chin and kissing her ; " you ll 
 tell me now." 
 
 Mabel shook her head. " Why do you care? You 
 men are so curious!" 
 
 "Why shouldn t I care? She s my sister." 
 
 He looked singularly like her at that moment, with 
 the steady, far-away stare of his blue-gray eyes and 
 the little frown emphasizing the level line of the 
 brows. 
 
 " I d hate to see you two pulling different ways," 
 commented Mabel, drawing one taper finger over the 
 
56 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 frown, which immediately gave way to a dazzling 
 smile. 
 
 " Why ? " he asked, snapping at the finger like a 
 trout at a fly. 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " Don t tell me unless you want to," he said, turning- 
 away sensitively. " Don t tell me anything unless 
 you want to." 
 
 " Arthur ! You know I want to tell you every 
 thing. I thought Kitty would be angry, but she 
 might know I d tell you. She said that he might 
 have been Tristram on his way to Iseult or a Holy 
 Father with the Sacrament. She believed he could be 
 both. There, now, I don t know what she ll do to 
 me if she ever finds it out!" 
 
 " She never will," said Arthur. A strange, troubled 
 look had crossed his face. He had quite forgotten 
 his other question. 
 
 In Jack Perry s saloon also the rescue and the 
 rescuer were prominent in the discussions that 
 evening. 
 
 Vaughan had made three friends; the child, the 
 sheriff and the saloon-keeper. Katharine s feelings 
 towards him were not those of friendship, even from 
 the first, a fact which, being recognized by Mr. 
 Eugene Winslow, made of him from the first an 
 enemy. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 GATHERING A CONGREGATION 
 
 Y I ^HE notice in Jack Perry s saloon should 
 
 ^< have brought a larger congregation the 
 following Sunday, but only thirteen came 
 an ominous number. Vaughan lay awake all that 
 night thinking of what he would do next. 
 
 It was certainly disheartening, to work hard all the 
 week preparing his sermons and then have so few to 
 hear them. Something must be done. He was there 
 to preach to the people. Somehow or other they must 
 be made to hear him. 
 
 During the week he revolved a number of plans in 
 his head and, when Sunday came, proceeded to carry 
 out the one which seemed to him the most promising. 
 
 The main street of the city followed the course 
 of the canyon. The descent was abrupt ; the stores, 
 saloons and dwelling-houses rose in steps from the 
 lower part of the town to the upper. The church 
 was on a side street built against the hill. At the 
 juncture of this with the main street was Jack 
 Perry s saloon. On the opposite corner was Jack 
 son s, with six or seven steps leading to the sidewalk. 
 From the corner of the sidewalk, covered by a porch 
 
 57 
 
58 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 belonging to the saloon, one could command the lower 
 part of the street, as from an elevated platform. It 
 was here that Vaughan determined to hold his evening 
 service. 
 
 The wondering permission of Jackson was ob 
 tained, and, dashing into Jack Perry s, the young 
 preacher asked for help to bring the organ from the 
 church. 
 
 " Here, you, Dick, Tom " called Jack. 
 
 Dick lounged forward with a smile. " I reckon ye 
 don t remember me, Parson," he said winningly. 
 
 " Yes, I do," said Vaughan. " Are you quite well 
 again ? " 
 
 " Sure," was the answer. It was the cowboy with 
 the kindly eyes who had been stabbed in Lou Pugh s 
 saloon that night when the service was held at Lewis. 
 
 Four other men, Jack one of them, followed the 
 preacher to the church. The organ was brought out 
 and carried to Jackson s corner, Vaughan himself 
 helping. 
 
 To hear music on the streets of Eureka was not 
 unusual; guitars, banjos thrummed merrily from 
 open doorways, harps and violins sighed unseen, a 
 brass band now and then paraded noisily, but nothing 
 like this far-reaching, insistent voice, at one with 
 the organ, had been heard before. 
 
 " What t hell ! " cried one and another in Jack 
 Perry s, and pushed their way out of the door to 
 look. 
 
GATHERING A CONGREGATION 59 
 
 " Jackson s got someone singin fer him, to draw," 
 they said. Heads appeared at windows. Little 
 groups of men and women strolled up the street. 
 
 Vaughan watched them. Hymn after hymn he 
 sang until they were near. Then he stood up before 
 them and began to plead his cause. 
 
 " My friends," he said earnestly, " you are won 
 dering why I am here. The reason is this : my church 
 has sent me to preach the glad tidings of life, liberty 
 and happiness to every man, woman and child of this 
 city. My message has been ready. I ve stood down 
 yonder at the church ready to deliver it, but none 
 of you came to hear. So I have come to you. My 
 instructions were Preach! 
 
 " How can I preach when I have no one to preach 
 to? ... 
 
 "I don t come here as an example. I come here 
 as your friend. If at any time, in any place, you 
 want the services of the church I am at your com 
 mand. I have no * hours. They are all yours. My 
 door will always be open. When you want me, come, 
 and if I am able I will respond. On your part, be 
 friendly. Come and listen to my message. Help me 
 to discharge my duty. Let me speak plainly and 
 frankly to you and with you. ... I have no 
 doctrines to urge, except the one duty of following 
 Christ, the Divine Man, who taught us how to live 
 and how to die. . . . Many of you were brought 
 up in Christian homes. You have drifted away from 
 
60 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the faith of your fathers and mothers. You know 
 your duty, but you need to be reminded of it." 
 
 He paused. " Give us another song, Parson," 
 called someone in the crowd. 
 
 Again he sang: then looked about for Jack. 
 The saloon-keeper lounged out from the shadow of 
 the doorway where he had been standing. 
 
 " Want her toted back, Parson ? " he inquired. 
 
 He beckoned to his men ; the instrument was again 
 lifted and carried back to the church. A crowd fol 
 lowed and filled the place. Jack scanned them criti 
 cally. " It s a fifty-dollar house if they don t dead 
 head," he mused, " and, by jiminy, they shan t! " 
 
 He listened gravely while the Parson preached and 
 prayed and sang, but kept one eye on the door lest 
 any escape. As soon as the last " Amen " was said, 
 Jack was on his feet. 
 
 " Parson," he called out in his slow drawl, " you ve 
 done your part, now we ll do ourn." 
 
 He stepped to the table below the platform where 
 the preacher stood and picked up two long poles, 
 each bearing at one end a bag of dingy red-and-yellow 
 silk. 
 
 " Here, Ned," he called to Wilkins, who sat in a 
 corner near the door, and Wilkins responded to the 
 call. No one ever disobeyed Jack Perry. 
 
 " Take this and go down that aisle and see that 
 every feller tips up! " He raised his voice. " I ll go 
 down the other. Tain t offen Jack Perry acts as 
 
GATHERING A CONGREGATION 61 
 
 deaking, but when he does, every bub in the house 
 tips up! " 
 
 He started on his deliberate way, presenting the 
 bag to each individual. If anyone hesitated he 
 received a jab in the stomach and Jack s voice was 
 heard, " Come, tip up ! tip up ! " 
 
 Before one man he paused some seconds. " What s 
 that?" He could be heard all over the church. 
 " Broke? " He turned to a man jehind him. " Here, 
 Bob, lend Pete a dollar. And see t you put it all in, 
 Pete!" 
 
 The bags were emptied on the table and the money 
 was counted. " Fifty-seven dollars and six bits," 
 Jack announced. " If that ain t enough, Parson, 
 we ll go round again." 
 
 " That s enough," returned Vaughan. " I m sat 
 isfied." 
 
 Satisfied! He was overwhelmed. When, since his 
 coming to Eureka, had he had so much money at 
 once? He rolled about on his hard bed for hours, 
 that night, reviewing the events of the evening and 
 congratulating himself. At last he had made an 
 impression, had identified himself with the life of the 
 place, had been recognized by the people. He could 
 see their wondering faces press up from below as he 
 stood on the corner, could hear them following him 
 down the street. His actual work had begun. 
 
 The Eureka Sentinel, the next morning, contained 
 a picturesque account of the services on Jackson s 
 
62 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 corner, and, in conclusion, " welcomed to the town 
 the talented young preacher," prophesying that he 
 would find " the harvest great, the laborers few, and 
 the pay damned little." Penrose, the editor, had not, 
 until now, so much as recognized his existence. 
 
 On Richmond Hill the affair was discussed in all 
 its phases. It furnished to Winslow material for 
 infinite sarcasm. Haverford could but thinly dis 
 guise his disgust. Both confessed that all they knew 
 of the occurrence was what they had heard. 
 
 Ned Wilkins told Katharine, when they were by 
 themselves, that he had attended the service, but he 
 did not mention passing the bag. It was queer, he 
 said, but there was something contagious about 
 the fellow s enthusiasm. He spoke apologetically. 
 Katharine caught herself combating an indefinite 
 disapproval. Singing on the corner! Marching 
 with his organ to and fro ! How absurd, how inar 
 tistic ! She wished she might see the young preacher 
 and tell him what she thought of such methods. Pos 
 sibly he would not care. 
 
 He certainly would not have cared at the time. 
 At the time he was following that ignis -fatuus, 
 Holy Grail, pillar of cloud and pillar of fire, which 
 was to him his Duty. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 LETTERS FROM ENGLAND 
 
 CLEMENT sent a copy of the Eureka Sen- 
 tinel containing the notice of the services 
 on Jackson s Corner to the Henley s. It 
 came just as Mary was finishing a letter to Clement, 
 written to accompany the budget from England. 
 
 " I ve half a mind to take the letters over there 
 myself," said Frank. 
 
 " I wish you would ! " exclaimed Mary. " How I d 
 like to go with you ! " 
 
 " Come along." 
 
 " And leave the children ? " 
 
 " Minnie s perfectly able to take care of them for 
 three days." 
 
 "How I d like to!" Mary looked out of the 
 window, down the canyon. There was not much to 
 see ; the rude, straggling houses, the smoke-stacks of 
 the silent, dust-covered mills, the canyon walls, slop 
 ing up to the sky, were all. Sometimes those sky 
 lines brought a sense of crowding, of suffocation. 
 She was entombed. No life reached her. She 
 rebelled against the stagnant, half-alive condition, 
 
 63 
 
64 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 longed to be free. The drive to Eureka offered an 
 escape, as well as the opportunity to see Clement. 
 
 She looked back at Frank. " I ll talk it over with 
 Minnie," she concluded. 
 
 " Then we ll start early in the morning," said 
 Frank, who considered the question as good as settled. 
 
 They took Sonia with them. Minnie and the two 
 little girls were to keep house. 
 
 It was an exhilarating ride, down the canyon, out 
 upon the wide floor of the valley, over the mountain 
 pass on the opposite side. The Nevada sunshine 
 filled the atmosphere with life, a few birds sang, the 
 aromatic smell of the sage brush, crushed by the 
 horses hoofs, arose like incense. The mere getting 
 over the mountains and out was a joy. Mary ex 
 panded, body, mind and soul. She was more like her 
 old self than Frank had seen her in months. 
 
 It was after five o clock when they struck the 
 Geiger Grade. Soon afterwards they reached the 
 church. 
 
 " We really ought to wait till he s had his supper," 
 said Mary. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," Frank returned, drawing rein 
 at the study door. " We ll take him out somewhere 
 for a square meal. Hullo ! " he called. 
 
 Vaughan responded immediately. His surprise and 
 delight were worth the journey, Mary thought. It 
 was the first meeting since he left Galena and there 
 was much to tell of the new life, the new friends. 
 
LETTERS FROM ENGLAND 65 
 
 They all went out together. In his excitement 
 Vaughan forgot to eat. 
 
 " Now, don t you say another word till you ve 
 finished your supper," commanded Mary, " I m not 
 going to speak again." 
 
 When they had returned to the study Vaughan 
 asked for his letters. " If you ll excuse me, I ll run 
 them through now," he said. 
 
 He opened the packet. Those from his father and 
 mother lay on the top of the pile. He read these 
 first. " He s in no hurry to get to those from his 
 wife," Mary said to herself. 
 
 Vaughan looked up with shining eyes. " That s a 
 beautiful letter from mother," he said with feeling. 
 " Father s is good, too ; but you women know how to 
 say things." 
 
 He smiled over his letter from his old pastor. " Let 
 me read you some of this," he said, " it s so 
 characteristic ! I am so glad, this is what he 
 writes, that you have returned to your old work. 
 I always said you were a born preacher. When you 
 embarked in that surgical boat, I felt sure there 
 would be a whale sent out after Jonah, and it is a 
 relief to learn that you have been at last belched out 
 on dry land. Isn t that just like him? " 
 
 Vaughan turned again to his packet. He stood 
 Delia s letters up in a row before him on his desk and 
 a quizzical look came into his eyes as he noted the 
 superscriptions. He selected the one written first and 
 
66 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 deliberately broke the seal. Mary anxiously watched 
 his face. Frank shouldered the baby, who was be 
 coming restless, and walked with her out into the 
 church. 
 
 Clement burst into a laugh. " Poor Delia," he 
 exclaimed, " she thinks gold and silver grow like 
 flowers here in Nevada. All you have to do is to gather 
 them. She wants me to have my first nugget made 
 into a ring like the one Lizzie Parkin s husband sent 
 her. She has inclosed a drawing of it." Clement 
 laughed and read on. " She says she has a surprise 
 for me, but will keep it till I come home at Christ 
 mas." He slid the first letter into its envelope and 
 took up the second. 
 
 " It is very much like the first," he commented. 
 " Just gossip about the neighbors is anxious to 
 have me get well and strong, says I mustn t overdo, 
 and so on, and so on." He ran rapidly over the con 
 tents, refolded the sheet and returned it to the 
 envelope. 
 
 Over the third he paused. Mary drew a long 
 breath. " Now it s coming," she said to herself. 
 
 This was the letter written in answer to Clement s, 
 telling of the night at Lou Pugh s. What did 
 Delia say in reply to that impassioned appeal, what 
 could she say that caused the slender brown fingers 
 to tighten on the closely written sheet? He glanced 
 up and met her inquiring eyes. 
 
 " It s only what you d expect from a girl who has 
 
LETTERS FROM ENGLAND 67 
 
 been brought up as she has," he said apologetically. 
 " She s never realized her duties to her fellow-men. 
 Her duties have been to her family and herself. Most 
 people are like that, you know, Mary. They feel 
 that if every man does his duty by his own, the whole 
 scheme of the universe will run smoothly. I ve tried 
 to show her another side of the picture, but in her 
 eyes I m a failure, you know. I haven t money or 
 
 position " He paused for a moment before he 
 
 continued. 
 
 " Her father thinks I d better come home before I 
 make any more mistakes," he said with a laugh. 
 " Her uncle offers me a place in in the brewery." 
 
 "Clement!" 
 
 " Mary, they re good, honest people, living accord 
 ing to their light. To them I m a fanatic, a fool. 
 They can t understand. How should they ? " 
 
 He broke the seal of the fourth letter and whirled 
 his chair away from the light of the window so that 
 Mary could no longer see his face while he read. She 
 responded by quietly leaving the room. 
 
 She found her husband walking up and down the 
 narrow aisles between the chairs. They were ar 
 ranged in the segment of a circle, many in the center, 
 few at the sides. She tried to imagine them filled 
 with people, tried to picture Clement on the plat 
 form behind the reading-desk; but the place was too 
 big and bare and empty. The great black stoves to 
 the right and left of the door had a brutal look. The 
 
68 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 air was close. She tried to open a window. It stuck 
 fast. 
 
 No sound came from the inner room. Nothing was 
 to be heard save the squeak of Frank s boots as he 
 went up and down with the child. She was half 
 asleep, flung limply over his shoulder, her fair head 
 drooping against his rough coat. Mary went up to 
 her, put the damp curls back from her moist fore 
 head and touched it with her lips. 
 
 " Frank," she whispered, " don t you think one of 
 us ought to go in there and speak to him ? " 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " To show our sympathy." 
 
 " He doesn t want sympathy, not at this stage of 
 the game." 
 
 "What does he want?" 
 
 " To be let alone." 
 
 Mary trudged after, catching at Sonia s hand and 
 mouthing it. "It s getting late," she whispered, 
 after a while. 
 
 " Yes. I m going over to the hotel." He raised 
 his voice. " We re going over to the hotel, Clement. 
 We ll see you in the morning, or to-night, if you feel 
 like coming over." 
 
 There was a noise in the rear room, of a chair 
 pushed back, and Clement came out into the church. 
 " Must you go? " he said hurriedly. " It was very 
 kind of you to come. I ll see you before bed-time." 
 He still held the letter in his hand. 
 
LETTERS FROM ENGLAND 69 
 
 " Do come over," urged Mary. Her voice trem 
 bled. " If there s anything we can do " she 
 
 faltered. 
 
 Frank took her by the arm. " Of course, Clement 
 knows we re always ready to do anything we can," he 
 said briskly. 
 
 Left to himself, Vaughan returned to his own room 
 and again read the letter. He knew it by heart 
 already, and yet he must keep on reading and reread 
 ing those bitter words. Their very vehemence de 
 manded that he should read and reread them. 
 
 " The law frees us from criminals and lunatics," 
 Delia wrote, " and I don t know which you are the 
 most of, to refuse that place at Virginia City, which 
 meant comfort to me and freedom from trouble 
 when did you ever bring me anything but trouble? 
 Do you think you are so much better than other men 
 that you can let those you ve sworn to take care of 
 go, while you chase around saving souls? 
 
 " Saving souls ! How many have you saved so far, 
 after all the noise and rumpus you ve raised. I sup 
 pose Mary Henley has been putting you up to this. 
 Before she dies she may see her mistake. I ll tell 
 you one thing, Clement Vaughan. I ve waited as long 
 as I m going to for you to play a man s part towards 
 me. Go ahead, hunt around for some black-hearted 
 villain to pull out of the muck, and when you ve done 
 it, come back and see what I ve become in the mean 
 time." 
 
70 IJIK SACIK BRUSH PARSON 
 
 she wrote and crossed out with heavy scor 
 ings of I lie jx-ri. Then she signed her maiden name, 
 " Delia Korington." 
 
 The letter fell from VaUghlH*! hands. How vivid 
 it was, liow real, how near it brought I he woman who 
 wrote it, and how pale mid vague and far removed it 
 made I he scenes about him, the man and woman and 
 child who had just left! 
 
 What had he accomplished, after all? What was 
 lie likely lo accomplish? What was his mission but 
 u dream, a hope? And there, on the table before him, 
 alive, tortured, protesting, lay a woman s heart! If 
 Delia had not cared for him, she would not have gone 
 to such lengths. Pride, jealousy, passion, spoke in 
 every line. 
 
 Who of all he knew in this new world, in this new 
 work, cared like that? Those for whom he had 
 planned and striven regarded him from a distance, 
 coldly. Mary Henley set him up on a pedestal 
 by himself. This woman, thousands of miles away, 
 through the throbbing medium of her written words, 
 caught him to her, carried him on, then thrust him 
 from her; and he sat alone among his books in the 
 narrow room, faint, weak, unresisting. 
 
 He did not see the llenleys again that night. In 
 the morning he found I hem at the hotel, just as they 
 v\ere leaving. There was very little said on either 
 side; too 111 lie, Mar\ Ilenlev thought. She longed 
 to supply a prop, a stimulus. She took Clement s 
 
LETTERS FROM ENGLAND 71 
 
 offered hand in both of hers. " * He that loveth 
 husband or wife more than me, " she began. 
 
 He pulled his hand away. " Don t ! " he exclaimed, 
 as if she had touched a bruise ; then with one of the 
 quick changes which in him constituted such a 
 charm, he added appealingly, " I can t talk, or be 
 talked to, just now." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 IT had come to be a proverb among the serv 
 ants of the Chisholm-Sinclair household, 
 " What Miss Elsie don t know ain t worth 
 knowin ." Often they added, " And what she don t 
 know she ll guess at ! " 
 
 But for once Elsie was completely at loss to 
 account for the changes going on around her. Why 
 did Mr. Winslow forget her candy? Why did Mr. 
 Haverford ride off absent-mindedly without giving 
 her the customary gallop down the street and back 
 again? Who was " the Sage Brush Parson " that did 
 such dreadful things? Who was " C. V.? " 
 
 Elsie was at her busiest trying to solve these mys 
 teries. Her cousin Marguerite was of very little 
 help in the matter. She was two years older, but did 
 not know much of anything except books. She had 
 lessons every day with Aunt Emmeline. Elsie was 
 supposed to do something of the sort, but books made 
 her head ache, and they all said she was too little. 
 So Elsie studied people and learned much. She 
 learned that one could manage Aunt Mabel by tell 
 ing her how pretty she was, whereas Elsie s mother 
 only made you " mind " the more. She learned that 
 
 72 
 
ELSIE GOES IN SEARCH OF " C. V." 73 
 
 Uncle Arthur liked little girls to say " Yes, sir " and 
 " No, sir," and then to keep still, whereas the other 
 gentlemen who came to the house wanted you to tell 
 them things. But you mustn t tell them too much; 
 then there was trouble. If they told you things, that 
 was different. Aunt Mabel would pet you and laugh 
 when you repeated what they said; even Elsie s 
 mother seemed to like to hear it, although she pre 
 tended she didn t and told Elsie little girls mustn t 
 repeat what they heard. She didn t mean to give 
 Elsie a chance to hear very much. She shook her 
 head at Aunt Mabel when Aunt Mabel commenced 
 talking about " C. V." 
 
 Who was " C. V." anyway ? And who was " the 
 Sage Brush Parson " ? She had an impression, every 
 day growing stronger, that the tall, kind man who 
 took her away from the cows was " C. V." At last 
 she became practically sure of it. Where was he, any 
 way? He had promised to come to see her " some 
 day." Why didn t he come? Oh, dear, it was so hot ! 
 
 " Nora Flynn," she called to the maid detailed to 
 watch her, " I m going down to your cousin s house 
 and play with the black kitten." 
 
 " Wait a minute, darlin , and I ll take ye," 
 answered the girl, hurriedly laying aside her sewing. 
 
 " I want to go alone," pouted Elsie, whose designs 
 included more than the kitten. 
 
 " Yer manner wouldn t like it." 
 
 " She would, if she got used to the idea. * 
 
74* THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Nora threw back her head and laughed. " Where- 
 ever do the child get her old-fashioned talk ? " 
 she queried. " Come along. Where s yer little 
 kerridge ? " 
 
 " I don t want my little carriage." 
 
 " Yes, you do. Come, be a good girl to Nora, 
 now ; that s a darlin ! " 
 
 Elsie sighed and yielded. After all, there was 
 nothing to be gained by holding out, and valuable 
 time might be lost in such a course. It was already 
 long past luncheon, and dinner came so soon ! 
 
 She suffered herself to be helped into the tricycle 
 and trundled away in the direction of Mary Flynn s, 
 followed by the indefatigable Nora. 
 
 On the back steps, with the black kitten cuddled 
 up against her bare neck, she very nearly decided 
 to give up her plan. The kitten s fur tickled so 
 deliciously, and really it was very pleasant on the 
 back steps among the vines. On the other hand, she 
 did want to ask the tall, kind man if he was " C. V." 
 She was quite sure he was, from something Aunt 
 Mabel said that morning. She said most men would 
 have jumped at the chance to come again. Now, 
 who was there who had such a chance and didn t jump 
 at it, except the tall, kind man? Yes, he was " C. 
 V.": he must be. But why didn t he come again? 
 He had said he would, " some day." She would ask 
 him that, among other things. 
 
 Someone came down the street, walking rapidly. 
 
ELSIE GOES IN SEARCH OF " C. V." 75 
 
 It was, it was he ! She would run after him. What 
 were they doing in the kitchen? Bother, there came 
 Nora, now! 
 
 " D ye want to go home, darlin ? " Nora inquired, 
 putting her head out at the door. 
 
 " No," replied Elsie, shaking her curls and clasp 
 ing the kitten till it miaowed. 
 
 " Don t hurt the kitty, dearie," cautioned Nora. 
 
 " I m not hurting her." 
 
 " When ye re ready will ye shpake to me ? " 
 
 Elsie knew what that meant. They were going to 
 get out the cards and tell fortunes, and Nora knew 
 that she wouldn t think of anything else, then. 
 Elsie knew it, too. As soon as she heard the scrap 
 ing of the chairs drawn up to the kitchen table and 
 the little thud of the cards, she danced out of the 
 yard and down the street. 
 
 Far, far ahead of her strode that tall figure. Now 
 it vanished around a corner, but Elsie knew which 
 corner it was and fluttered after, the black kitten 
 hugged up under her chin. Around Jackson s, past 
 Jack Perry s there he was, going into the church. 
 
 She followed as far as the door, then paused, 
 irresolute. Within, she could hear someone whistling. 
 It was very wrong to whistle in church. Once, when 
 a boy whistled over at St. Stephen s, Mr. Haverford 
 put him out. Perhaps it was different with grown-up 
 men; they might whistle when boys couldn t like 
 smoking. 
 
76 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 She tiptoed over the threshold and advanced softly 
 down the aisle. The whistling came from some place 
 in behind. It stopped as she reached the door. She 
 stopped, too, and stood there, a picture of innocent 
 confusion, her bright hair touched by the afternoon 
 sun. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Clement with acute delight, and 
 stretched out his arms to her. 
 
 She fluttered into them and allowed herself to be 
 perched on his knee. 
 
 " You went so fast, I had to run," she faltered, as 
 if that was the only reason her breath came and went 
 so quickly. 
 
 " But you see I didn t know you were there," he 
 pleaded : " I should certainly have waited for you." 
 
 She smiled, and examined him covertly under her 
 eyelashes. Yes, he was just as delightful as she 
 thought he was. 
 
 " Are you C. V. ? " she asked. 
 
 " I suppose so," he answered ; " those are my 
 initials." 
 
 " There, I knew you were ! " she exclaimed 
 triumphantly, " and they thought they were fooling 
 me [ " She frowned. " But who is the Sage Brush 
 Parson 5 ?" 
 
 " I suppose Pm that, too." He had heard of 
 Haverford s name for him. 
 
 Now she was silent, troubled, looking the other 
 way. 
 
ELSIE GOES IN SEARCH OF " C. V." 77 
 
 " Why, isn t the Sage Brush Parson as good as 
 <C. V. ?" he inquired. 
 
 " No," she said sorrowfully. " And I don t see 
 how you can be both. You re not ! " she declared 
 suddenly ; " you said that to tease me." 
 
 Her curious eyes roved about the room. " Do you 
 live here? " was the next question. Then the 
 catechism went on without break. Where did he 
 sleep? Where did he eat and what? Did he like this 
 and that? At last she yawned prodigiously for such 
 a delicate creature and let her head sink to his 
 shoulder. A long sigh trembled through her parted 
 lips. Her eyes closed. 
 
 " This is nice," she whispered, relaxing her hold 
 on the black kitten, which nevertheless made no effort 
 to escape, but tucked its forepaws in and purred 
 lustily. 
 
 " Very nice," said Clement, laying one hand on the 
 kitten and the other on the child s soft hair. Soon 
 both were asleep. 
 
 Meanwhile, there was a great hue-and-cry on Rich 
 mond Hill. Nora had come home with the empty 
 tricycle, confessing that she had no idea of its 
 owner s whereabouts. The various members of the 
 family departed in as many different directions to 
 search for the runaway. Katharine, for reasons best 
 known to herself, went straight to the church. The 
 afternoon shadows, which come so early to the canyon, 
 were already lengthening, but the small brick edifice, 
 
78 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 because of its position on the hill, was still in the 
 light. The door stood open. She looked in, caught 
 the glow of the red carpet, noted the informal 
 arrangement of the chairs. It was certainly a home 
 like little place, but very unchurchly. Her Episco 
 palian soul revolted as Elsie s had at the whistling. 
 
 There was not a sound, yet she felt quite sure the 
 child was there. Why? she asked herself. Katharine 
 had a way of asking herself questions; usually she 
 compelled herself to answer them. 
 
 She advanced slowly down the aisle, which was 
 in line with the inner room. Yes, there they were, the 
 man, the child and actually, the kitten ! 
 
 She was conscious of a strange little sensation, dis 
 quieting, yet not altogether unpleasant, as she spied 
 the long brown hand resting on Elsie s curls. 
 
 His head drooped. Of what was he thinking? 
 
 He did not see her until she stood in the doorway. 
 Then he started. She might have been a wood- 
 nymph, he told himself, emerging from the oaken 
 frame about her, in her cool, tawny silks and wide 
 flower-trimmed hat, with her pallor and her startled 
 eyes. 
 
 He did not speak for an instant. But Elsie had 
 felt his sudden move. She sat upright, flushed and 
 embarrassed, and began to talk very fast. She had 
 been so tired, she walked so far 
 
 " But you ran away," interrupted Katharine with 
 asperity. " Why did you do that? " 
 
ELSIE GOES IN SEARCH OF " C. V." 79 
 
 " I wanted to ask * C. V. something," replied Elsie 
 with a toss of her small head. 
 
 " What ? " cried her mother. It was her turn to 
 become embarrassed. Redder than her roses she 
 grew. 
 
 Elsie saw her advantage and pressed it. " He is 
 * C. V. he says so," she continued, " and he says 
 oh, there goes the kitty I borrowed of Mary Flynn ! " 
 
 Over the red carpet she darted like a puff of thistle 
 down in a high wind. Katharine and Clement fol 
 lowed in hot pursuit. They caught her, as she 
 caught the kitten, halfway down the steps. 
 
 Both her hands were occupied. " Let me take the 
 cat," said Katharine, but Elsie tucked the animal 
 resolutely under her chin again, saying, " She 
 doesn t know you, mamma, and," this by way of 
 warding off interference, " kitties have fits, some 
 times." 
 
 Katharine glanced helplessly at Vaughan. He 
 laughed. " I ll get my hat and walk up with you, if 
 you will permit me," he said sympathetically. 
 
 " If you will be so kind," she responded. 
 
 So the three went through the dingy streets 
 together, the man in his long coat, which suited him, 
 she decided, like the habit of an Order; the woman 
 in her golden draperies, rippling and shining as she 
 walked like sunlit water over the statue of a fountain, 
 and the fairy child now here, now there, before, 
 behind them. Like the shuttle in a web she wove 
 
80 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 them together and gave them an excuse for being in 
 each other s company. 
 
 The rest of the searching party had returned and 
 were gathered in a group in front of the house when 
 they reached it. 
 
 " It s the Parson to the rescue again ! " said 
 Winslow, his lip twitching. 
 
 " So it seems," replied Arthur. 
 
 " Of all things ! " murmured Mabel, who seemed to 
 read unutterable meanings in the approach of the 
 three. 
 
 " Where do you think the child has been ? " 
 demanded Miss Emmeline of everyone in general, and 
 no one in particular answered her. 
 
 " Come up and meet my friends," urged Katharine. 
 " Dine with us, do. My brother wishes to meet you ; 
 he said so. And the rest are all friends ; you would 
 like them. Please do." 
 
 Why should he not accept? The Superintendent 
 had hinted to him, not too subtly, that these were the 
 people whom it was especially desirable that the new 
 preacher should meet and attract. What better 
 opportunity could be offered? 
 
 He 3aelded, not altogether against his will, and 
 Katharine led him triumphantly up to the group. 
 They received him politely, kindly, as become the well- 
 bred, but with a covert spirit of inquiry which at 
 once put him on his mettle. He would show them of 
 what stuff he was made ! He talked, in their 
 
ELSIE GOES IN SEARCH OF C. V." 81 
 
 language, told stories, from their point of view, put 
 on their armor, fought their battle, touched Haver- 
 ford where he was most sensitive, showed how dull 
 Winslow could be, flattered Mabel, charmed Miss 
 Emmeline and made Arthur Sinclair open his eyes in 
 the way so like Katharine s way when she was sur 
 prised and pleased. 
 
 Her eyes glowed like stars to-night. She openly 
 exulted in the new acquisition to their little circle. 
 " You will come again, you must," she pleaded, as he 
 bade her good-night. " You are just what we need. 
 Really, it is a mission." 
 
 He laughingly promised and hurried away, won 
 dering at the new lightness and brightness he dis 
 covered in himself, responding with every faculty to 
 the atmosphere he had left. 
 
 On Jackson s Corner two men in miner s dress 
 started out from among the shadows and accosted him. 
 
 " You the feller that runs the hanky-panky estab 
 lishment yonder? " inquired one of them. 
 
 " The what? " asked Vaughan. 
 
 " The hanky-panky shop. The hallelujah outfit," 
 repeated the miner impatiently. 
 
 " The saint-factory, the sinner-be-damned place," 
 ejaculated the other miner. 
 
 " O-h, the church ! " exclaimed Vaughan, a great 
 light breaking in upon him. " Yes, yes, I m the par 
 son. Come in, come in, and tell me what I can do for 
 you." 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 VAUGHAN led the two miners around to the 
 side door and into the study, where he lit his 
 one lamp and begged them to be seated on 
 two chairs which he brought from the church. The 
 light shone on their red shirts, blue overalls and 
 heavy boots, and on their rough, anxious faces. 
 
 " What can I do for you ? " asked the preacher 
 kindly. 
 
 They glanced at each other, and the man who had 
 first spoken began hesitatingly. " Ye see, Charley 
 Davenport s handed in his checks and dropped out of 
 the game, and the boys want him planted in fine 
 style. Jim and me here s a committee to see if you ll 
 do the job way up in G." 
 
 " That s it, Bill, way up in G," echoed the other 
 miner. 
 
 " Way up in G?" repeated Vaughan. "I don t 
 quite understand. What has Mr. Davenport done? 
 And what do you want me to do? " 
 
 " Don t you savvey ? " exclaimed Bill with some 
 impatience. " Charley s dropped out of the game, 
 petered out, gone up the flume, passed over the 
 Divide damn it, ain t that clear? " 
 
 82 
 
CHARLEY DAVENPORT S FUNERAL 83 
 
 "Yes, damn it, ain t that clear?" echoed Jim. 
 
 " Oh, I think I begin to understand," said Vaughan 
 slowly. " Mr. Davenport s dead and you want me to 
 bury him : is that it ? " 
 
 " That s it ; you ve tumbled," said Bill. 
 
 " That s it, you ve tumbled," echoed the other 
 member of the committee. 
 
 " We want a little business at the church, and some 
 more at the grave. That s where you wanter do yer 
 hollerin ! Have plenty o singin , the reel techin 
 kind. Two o clock sharp." 
 
 After a few more instructions the Committee took 
 their leave and Vaughan hurried over to Jack 
 Perry s for information. He found both Jack and 
 Mat there and retired with them to one of the small 
 rooms where they would be free from interruption. 
 
 " I understand the deceased was a member of sev 
 eral different organizations, secret societies and the 
 like," he began, taking a notebook and a pencil from 
 his pocket. 
 
 " You bet he was," replied Mat. 
 
 " Yes, Charley was into everything," said Jack. 
 " He was a Knight of Pythias, I. O. O. F., and A. O. 
 U. W., C. F., K. T., H. and K. and lots of others." 
 
 " You ll have to tell me what these letters signify," 
 said the Methodist, writing busily in his notebook. 
 
 Jack and Mat explained. There were ten societies 
 of which Charley Davenport had been a distinguished 
 member. 
 
84 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " And they ll all turn out," said Jack. " It s goin 
 to be the biggest send-off ever got up in Eureka." 
 
 " Did Mr. Davenport leave any children? " 
 Vaughan inquired, pencil poised in air. 
 
 " They do say that youngest kid of Mcln- 
 tyre s " began Mat, but Jack interrupted him. 
 
 " Parson don t mean that," he said, frowning. 
 " No, Charley didn t leave any children." 
 
 " Is there a widow? " asked Vaughan. 
 
 " They don t go by that name," replied Jack 
 grimly. 
 
 Vaughan shook his head distrustfully. 
 
 " What were some of Mr. Davenport s character 
 istics? He seems to have had a great many friends," 
 he pursued, still feeling about for some shred of 
 material out of which he could weave the eulogistic 
 sermon he felt quite sure that he would be called upon 
 to preach. 
 
 " He was * dead on the trigger, " said Jack 
 approvingly. 
 
 " And could cuss a man into hell the quickest of 
 anybody in town," added Mat. 
 
 " Except Dick," said Jack. 
 
 " Oh, Dick s got a lot of words" said Mat, " but 
 he don t use em the way Charley could." 
 
 " He was cool" said Jack. 
 
 " Cool ! " cried Mat. " His face was like a stun 
 eemage" 
 
 " Yes," said Jack, " there wasn t no one could tell 
 
CHARLEY DAVENPORT S FUNERAL 85 
 
 whether he was going up or down. He was onto his 
 job, all right." 
 
 " What was his business ? " inquired Vaughan 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Oh, he f ollered the races, some," Jack replied 
 cautiously. 
 
 " Not t amount to nothin , Jack," interposed Mat. 
 " He bucked the tiger, Parson, that s what he did. 
 There ain t a miner nor a cowboy in Eureka but s 
 met Charley Davenport over the cards. What s the 
 matter, Parson?" For Vaughan, with an exclama 
 tion of disgust, had torn out the leaves of the note 
 book on which he had been writing, had rolled them 
 into a wad and thrown them under the table. 
 
 "Unclean? profane? dishonest?" he summed up. 
 " What can I say in praise of such a man? " 
 
 " Omit flowers, eh? " queried Jack with a grin. 
 " After all, Charley wasn t a bad sort of a feller. 
 He d give his last cent to pull you out of a hole. 
 You ll warm up to-morrer when you see em all out in 
 their aprons and bibs and frills." 
 
 It was certainly a most extraordinary sight. Every 
 organization appeared in full regalia, from the Hose 
 Company, the " Hooks and Knicks " brief for 
 knickerbockers to the Knights of Pythias, with their 
 plumes. The little church was filled with glittering, 
 clanking, strutting humanity. Among the Masons 
 appeared Judges, an ex-governor, a senator. Judge 
 Weaver and Lou Pugh had driven over from Lewis. 
 
86 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 There were men from every mine in camp. Doctor 
 Addison was there with a brother-physician from 
 Battle Mountain. Shed Wellman was there the 
 wealthy cattle-owner who lived on Richmond Hill, 
 near the Chisholms and Sinclairs, but not of them. 
 Dashing cowboys, rough miners, gaudy women came 
 in droves. 
 
 Conspicuous among the crowd appeared the Com 
 mittee, Bill and Jim. They had their eyes on the 
 Parson from the time they entered the church and 
 their gaze never faltered. As he uttered the opening 
 sentence, " I am the resurrection and the life, 
 saith the Lord," their attitude became severely 
 critical. 
 
 The best was never too good for anyone who 
 listened to him, but it must be confessed that 
 Vaughan made what he gave seem more at some times 
 than at others. To-day, stirred by the contrast 
 between the pomp and circumstance surrounding the 
 flower-decked casket and the life that ended there, he 
 gave to the impressive words a majesty and a mean 
 ing which could not fail to penetrate the most cal 
 lous heart. He made the psalm sound like an anthem 
 as he read it, and the wonderful Corinthian chapter 
 became a score of sermons rolled into one. Only the 
 Committee looked the dissatisfaction which they felt. 
 
 " Ain t he goin to say nothin ? " asked Jim in a 
 whisper, nudging Bill. 
 
 "Keep still," whispered Bill, nudging back. 
 
CHARLEY DAVENPORT S FUNERAL 87 
 
 " Give him time. He ain t got through. He s 
 probbly waitin till he gets us up on the hill." 
 
 The procession formed, in vehicles of every descrip 
 tion, " hacks," buggies, buckboards. The various 
 Orders and Societies were afoot. Gradually it wound 
 its way around Jackson s Corner, down Main Street, 
 up on Cemetery Hill. 
 
 From his place in the undertaker s carriage, before 
 the hearse, Vaughan watched it move its slow length 
 along. 
 
 " Great, ain t it ? " muttered the undertaker. 
 " Ain t been such a buryin here since I went inter 
 business. Gee, it s hot ! " He mopped his face, per 
 spiring freely by reason of recent effort and present 
 agitation. 
 
 On they came ; Masons, Knights, Odd Fellows, 
 Hooks and Knicks, miners and their families, cow 
 boys, women of the under world, gamblers, sharps. 
 
 " Three-four hundred, betcher dollar ! " estimated 
 the undertaker. 
 
 They reached the cemetery. Around them lay the 
 open sage brush country. Near at hand clustered the 
 monuments to the dead. Before the grave the under 
 taker paused and alighted. Vaughan followed. The 
 motley company grouped themselves in reverent 
 silence, rank upon rank, on the other side of the nar 
 row opening. 
 
 Beyond them and below could be seen the gash of 
 the canyon, the ends and tops of houses, here the 
 
88 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 hoisting works, there the stacks of furnaces, their 
 red fires gleaming, even in the intense Nevada sun 
 light ; further on, a trail of flame showing where the 
 waste went over the dump, and in the background 
 sage brush and alkali, rocks and bowlders, till one 
 came to the verge of the great, overarching, azure 
 sky. 
 
 " Man that is born of woman," began the preacher, 
 helmets and plumed hats and sombreros were 
 doffed, heads were bowed, " hath but a short time 
 
 to live. ... I heard a voice " And so 
 
 on through the Lord s Prayer and through the 
 Benediction. 
 
 Still no one moved. There was an embarrassing 
 pause, then the Committee extricated themselves 
 from the throng, and hastily made their way to the 
 spot where the Parson stood. 
 
 " Why don t you shoot off yer mouth? " demanded 
 Bill in a low whisper. " The boys expect you to give 
 em hell. They won t go home without it." 
 
 " Give em hell, that s it ! " echoed Jim. 
 
 "Give em hell?" replied Vaughan bewildered; 
 " what do you mean ? " 
 
 "Mean? Why, give em some chin-music, hot on 
 both sides and sulphur between. Give em hell! And 
 be damn quick about it. The crowd s gettin 
 nervous ! " The Committee edged back to their places. 
 
 So that was what they wanted judgment, not 
 eulogy, not temporizing, not evasion something 
 
t CHARLEY DAVENPORT S FUNERAL 89 
 
 direct, peremptory, something that scarified and 
 made clean. They wanted fire, they wanted hell. 
 Very well, they should have it. 
 
 He let his eyes wander over the crowd to the man 
 on the farthest edge, who proved to be Martin Young, 
 watching him with a cynical smile. Then he stretched 
 out his hands as if he would clasp and hold them and 
 began : 
 
 " My friends Charley Davenport is dead! He is, 
 as you say, out of the game. Touch his hand 
 there is no returning pressure. Speak to him he 
 does not answer. When did that ever happen before? 
 When did he ever until now meet you without a 
 hearty hand-grip? When did he ever fail to 
 reply ? 
 
 " A new thing has happened to him. He cannot stir 
 hand or foot. He cannot speak. He is dead. He 
 isn t there any more! He has gone! 
 
 " Gone where? you ask. I will tell you. He has 
 gone to be judged! He has gone where the book of 
 his life will be opened, where his account will be 
 read, where he will see at last what he has been and 
 done from the beginning, where he will be paid his 
 wages ! 
 
 " Sometime, perhaps very soon, this will happen to 
 you. They will touch your hand and will let it fall, 
 a limp, cold thing! They will speak to you and get 
 no answer. You will be dead. You will have gone, 
 like him, to get your wages. You try not to believe 
 
90 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 this, to run away from the fact, but it s there, born 
 with you. You can t escape it. ... 
 
 " More than that. Some of you are very nearly 
 dead, already! 
 
 " You don t believe it ? Deny it if you can, you who 
 sink into the apathy of drunkenness and lie in a 
 torpor and drag yourselves out, as from a grave! 
 Deny it, if you can, you who whip a jaded passion 
 till it fails to respond! 
 
 " You are dead, I tell you, nine-tenths dead, and 
 death is creeping over you like paralysis to take the 
 other tenth! . . . Why are you taking your 
 wages before the time, the wages of sin which is 
 death? Can you not wait for your hell? Must you 
 have it now? " 
 
 Breathless silence held the vast company. They 
 were getting what they wanted. " That s right. Go 
 ahead," they seemed to say. He could not make it too 
 strong for them. Frank Henley s words came back 
 to him. " They are great wide-open mouths and 
 stomachs." Even their religion must " go down 
 like a buzz-saw," as the cowboy demanded of his 
 dram. 
 
 Very well, they should have it, " righteousness and 
 judgment to come." He would cause them to 
 tremble, as Paul caused Felix. More fervid grew his 
 words, louder rang his voice, then sank to winning 
 tenderness, as he urged them to consider " the gift 
 of God," as opposed to the " wages of sin " ; be- 
 
CHARLEY DAVENPORT S FUNERAL 91 
 
 sought them to lay hold upon it for it was eternal 
 life, as surely as the other was death. 
 
 While the stir of satisfaction was yet percepti 
 ble throughout the throng, the Committee per 
 formed their final and by no means least important 
 function. They quickly whipped off their hats and 
 presented them to each individual present, moving 
 rapidly from group to group. 
 
 " Here you be," said Bill, pressing silver and gold 
 and paper into the Parson s hand. " Seventy-three 
 dollars and two bits," he said, shaking the hand and 
 its contents. " You done it up brown, Parson, that s 
 what you did. If Charley ain t sittin on a cloud with 
 a harp and a crown, singin Hallelujah, tain t our 
 fault. Yer jaw panned out when you opened it. I 
 hope you ll be on hand to plant me when my time 
 comes." 
 
 He darted away to his place in the procession 
 already moving circumspectly away. At the foot of 
 the hill they broke ranks and separated, some to 
 return to work, some to talk over what they had seen 
 and heard, some to " liquor." But there was no 
 dancing that afternoon and evening, and there was 
 very little card-playing. 
 
 The undertaker drove Vaughan to the church and 
 entered with him, to make sure that his assistants had 
 left everything in order. Nothing had been done; 
 the trestle on which the coffin had rested still stood 
 below the platform, the chairs were huddled together 
 
92 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 as they had been pushed about to make way for the 
 formal entry of the Orders. The undertaker strode 
 up and down and fumed. Soon the young men came 
 running in. 
 
 " We wanted to see the show," they replied to his 
 fault-finding. " But say, warn t it great ! " They 
 began zealously to restore order. 
 
 Vaughan fidgeted from church to study and back 
 again. It was impossible to settle down to any 
 definite work. He wished that he could talk over 
 the events of the afternoon with someone who would 
 understand and sympathize. He wished the Henley s 
 were within reach. If Galena were not so far, or if 
 he had Black Birdie, he would go to them. 
 
 He wondered if the charming woman on Richmond 
 Hill really meant what she said about his coming 
 again. He had half a mind to put her to the test. 
 Restless, irresolute, he wandered to and fro, went to 
 the door and looked out, returned, and finished by 
 seizing his hat and making for Richmond Hill. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 CONFIDENCES 
 
 A Clement began to climb the hill, he met 
 Mrs. Chisholm s iron gray horses and hand 
 some buckboard coming down. Jerry was 
 driving. On the seat with him were the two little 
 girls. Mrs. Sinclair and Miss Emmeline were behind. 
 Jerry s greeting with his upraised whip-arm was pro 
 found and portentous. The ladies smiled graciously. 
 Elsie turned a look of anguish upon him and was for 
 stopping the horses, but her aunts intervened, and 
 they drove on. 
 
 They were evidently off for a long drive. Mrs. 
 Chisholm would be alone, then. He quickened his 
 steps. Nora let him in, all smiles and blushes. 
 
 Katharine came promptly, and there was no mis 
 taking the sincerity of her welcome. 
 
 " I ve been hearing about the funeral from Mr. 
 Lacey and Mr. Squires," she said, indicating the 
 senator and the ex-governor who had lent dignity to 
 the body of Masons. " They think that was the most 
 wonderful funeral sermon they ever heard preached. 
 Jerry well, Jerry is almost as excited as Nora was 
 
 93 
 
94 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 after the rescue. He s trying to make you out a good 
 Catholic. He says you believe in Purgatory, any 
 way." 
 
 " They wouldn t have anything else ; only they 
 didn t call it by that name," said Vaughan with a 
 shrug. He looked about for a seat. 
 
 " Sit here by the window," she urged, " while I 
 bring a fan and a mint- julep? " 
 
 " What is that? " 
 
 " Brandy and oh, you wouldn t care for it ! 
 Nora will make you some lemonade." She floated 
 away, a refreshing vision in her cool muslins, and soon 
 returned with two fans. 
 
 " Do you let them order what they like for ser 
 mons? " she inquired with a smile, giving him one fan 
 and plying the other. 
 
 " Sometimes," he answered, joining her in a wav 
 ing duet. " I find it as well to give them their sort of 
 a God as to insist upon their taking mine. Theirs is 
 a Consuming Fire, as they took pains to let me know. 
 They asked me to give them Hell ! " He hesitated 
 a little over the word. It did not trouble her in the 
 least. 
 
 " We all want that sometimes, don t we ? " she 
 asked, looking up brightly, "to be burnt out, and 
 started over again? " 
 
 " I haven t made myself believe, yet, in the start 
 ing over," he said slowly. " I believe in the severity 
 of God." 
 
CONFIDENCES 95 
 
 " But not in His mercy ? Oh, you want to get your 
 dues both ways." 
 
 " Pardon me, are you a Romanist ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, I m what you would call a Church of Eng 
 land woman. But it s the American product. Here 
 comes Nora. On the little table, Nora. That s 
 right." 
 
 Nora set down her tempting load: silver and 
 crystal, a tall flagon through whose transparent sides 
 slices of lemon showed alluringly, slender glasses filled 
 with ice, a plate of fragrant little cakes. 
 
 Katharine took up the flagon and a glass and let 
 the lemonade drip deliciously over the ice. She was 
 quite conscious that the eyes of her guest were rov 
 ing past her, over the room, and when she gave him his 
 glass she answered his unuttered question. 
 
 " You haven t been in this room before. It is my 
 own sitting-room. I told Nora to bring you in here 
 so that we should not be disturbed. That is a rather 
 good Prometheus over the piano, and the Undine is 
 considered fine. The rest are views I ve picked up 
 here and there." 
 
 "It s charming," he murmured, letting his eyes 
 again wander, and again return to the woman before 
 him, with her rose-flush, her shifting beauty of 
 expression. What could be farther removed from the 
 scenes he had left? His senses responded as to faintly 
 heard music. He yearned to put into someJ orm what 
 he felt; but in words would it not sound absurd; 
 exaggerated? 
 
96 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 "Isn t it right?" she inquired, pointing to the 
 lemonade. 
 
 " Yes, delightful," he answered, sipping it. " Too 
 delightful. Everything is. It s the contrast which 
 upsets me. I ve had such a day ! " 
 
 "I know, it must have been terrible," she sighed, 
 and gazed at him with sudden earnestness. " Mr. 
 Vaughan, how did you happen to come to such a 
 place?" 
 
 He returned the look with one as earnest, 
 " Would it surprise you very much to learn that I 
 came because I thought God wanted me to? " The 
 words sounded far-fetched to him, crudely senti 
 mental. 
 
 " It wouldn t surprise me in you," she answered. 
 
 What did she mean? What was she thinking, 
 with that intent look in her eyes ? Just this. "Poor 
 Tristram! Where is he? The Holy Father will 
 put him into sackcloth and strew ashes on him 
 unless someone interferes." 
 
 But what she said was, " How can you be sure? 
 You may be mistaken. People have been, about such 
 things ! " 
 
 That was like Delia! He would have liked to tell 
 her about Delia. He felt that she would understand 
 and sympathize, would not blame Delia too much. 
 Sometime he would tell her the whole story. Mean 
 while he ^.as quite willing to lead up to it with con 
 fidences about himself. So when she asked again, 
 
CONFIDENCES 97 
 
 " How could you be sure ? " he answered with straight 
 forward simplicity. "One can never be sure, but 
 I d rather make the mistake than miss the oppor 
 tunity," 
 
 She kindled into sudden enthusiasm. " Do you 
 know how great it is of you to say that? I don t 
 believe there is another man of my acquaintance who 
 would risk so much. Do you know you are very 
 different from other men ? " 
 
 " Am I ? " he queried, with a little wistful smile 
 which she found irresistibly appealing. "Perhaps 
 so. Yet I ve tried to enter into their lives, have 
 worked in the mines, lived as they did, tried to feel 
 as they feel " 
 
 " You can t ! " she interrupted. " How can you ? " 
 
 " But I must," he insisted. " If I m to help them, 
 if I am to make myself understood, find the right 
 word for the right thought " 
 
 His face took on the rapt expression which came 
 to it at times. She mused again. " It s of no use. 
 The Holy Father has him down. Poor Tristram. 
 No power on earth can save him. Oh, what a frivo 
 lous life I ve led!" 
 
 Suddenly his entire manner changed. " Do you 
 mind if I try that piano?" he burst out. "I ve 
 been dying to, ever since I came into the room." 
 
 "Do/ I should be delighted!" They sprang up 
 simultaneously. He seated himself before the instru 
 ment, the skirts of his long coat trailing to the floor, 
 
98 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 threw back his head, ran his fingers lovingly over the 
 keys and broke into a song no hymn, but a chanson 
 vieille of a shepherd and a maid. 
 
 Standing beside him, she watched his cheeks pale 
 and his eyes kindle, caught the sway of the pliant 
 figure, the clinging touch of the magnetic hands. 
 Where was the Holy Father now, the psalm-singing 
 Methodist, the Sage Brush Parson? 
 
 The stifled emotions of the day, the week, the 
 year, were having their way with him: indeed it 
 seemed to him at the moment that he had never found 
 full expression until now. How much of it was due 
 to the influence of the place, the woman, he could not 
 tell. It might have come anyhow, anywhere, sooner 
 or later. He did not know, he did not care. He was 
 singing his heart out, that was enough, his over 
 burdened, over- troubled, struggling, stinted heart, 
 and the being who stood beside him in her delicate 
 draperies, with her clear, penetrating eyes, might 
 be angel or woman he did not know, he did not care. 
 He only knew she let him be himself, have his way, 
 throw off the load, draw long breaths, sing his song, 
 be free! And he was grateful to her, as a hungry 
 plant is to the sky for the sun and the rain. 
 
 " You are a musician ! " she said, as one would 
 say, "I know you, now." 
 
 " Born and bred," he assented, letting his fingers 
 linger among the chords. " As children," he lifted 
 his eyes to hers, " we were sometimes hungry, but 
 
CONFIDENCES 99 
 
 there was a musical instrument in every room, and we 
 had the latest music." 
 
 Yet " 
 
 " Yet they trained me to the work I am doing." 
 
 "Your father?" 
 
 " Was a cooper and basket-maker." 
 
 "Your mother?" 
 
 " Almost as poor as he. Their fathers were spend 
 thrifts and worse." 
 
 " So they offered their son as an atonement 1 " 
 
 " They offered themselves." 
 
 His fingers wandered over the keys. 
 
 " Did you ever conduct? " she asked abruptly. 
 
 "Yes, why?" 
 
 " I knew you could, Mr. Vaughan," her voice 
 was vibrant with feeling, " I don t believe God ever 
 wanted you to be sacrificed in this way. You don t 
 know. You haven t really lived the life yet. It is 
 horrible. We have had merely glimpses of it, Arthur 
 and I, and Mr. Chisholm when he was alive, and only 
 at intervals not near, not intimately, as you will 
 have it. And we have felt that we could not endure 
 the remote suggestion of it more than a few months 
 at a time. We are by ourselves, we drive and ride 
 and enjoy each other, have our leisure, our books. 
 We are not, any one of us, as sensitive as you 
 are." 
 
 He withdrew his hands from the keys and sat in 
 silence looking up at the Prometheus. Chained to 
 
100 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 a great rock lay the Titan, and around him Spirits 
 of the Wave and of the Air bewailed his fate. 
 
 "I ve always been afraid it was too big for me," 
 he said at length, " but the very bigness of it tempts 
 me. Others besides the Titan have brought down 
 fire." 
 
 " And paid the penalty," she finished. 
 
 " And paid the penalty," he repeated, striking 
 into a plaintive little melody. 
 
 " What is that? " she asked. 
 
 " I don t know," he answered. " It has been 
 haunting me ever since I sat here." He played it 
 again. 
 
 "Not that way!" she called. "You didn t play 
 it like that, before." 
 
 " This way ? " He tried once more. 
 
 " Yes, yes. Oh, I wish I could remember that." 
 
 "I could write it out?" 
 
 "Will you? Now?" 
 
 She brought paper and pencil. He drew the staff, 
 made the signs, with quick, nervous strokes, put in 
 some notes, tried a bar or two, put in more notes, 
 tried these, and finally played it all over from the 
 beginning. 
 
 " Is that as I had it? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," she answered. " I wonder what words 
 belong to it ! " 
 
 " You ought to be able to find that out for me," 
 he said. 
 
CONFIDENCES 101 
 
 " I used to write verses, when I was at school 
 in France," she returned. " But I was homesick 
 then." 
 
 " Can t you imagine yourself in France and home 
 sick?" 
 
 " I could if you kept on singing." 
 
 He began again, a pensive Lied, but before he had 
 sung a dozen bars a child s shrill voice piped up 
 loudly in the hall. 
 
 "Where is he? Has he gone? I will, too, go in 
 there, Nora Flynn! He was my C. V. first." Then 
 there came an outburst of sobs. 
 
 Katharine opened the door. " What does this 
 mean ? " she inquired sternly. " Elsie, I am sur 
 prised ! " 
 
 Elsie winked away the tears. She did not answer, 
 but sidled past her mother and slid into Vaughan s 
 arms. 
 
 " Mr. Vaughan won t love any little girl that 
 behaves as badly as you do," said Katharine dis 
 approvingly. 
 
 " He loves me ; don t you, C. V. ? " implored 
 Elsie, with both arms around his neck. He whispered 
 something in her ear. She stood up, smiling. 
 " Scuse me," she said to her mother, and would then 
 have returned to his knee, but he had risen and was 
 holding out his hand. 
 
 " I owe you thanks," he said to Katharine, " more 
 than I can tell, for what you have given me more 
 
102 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 than you can realize." He stooped and kissed the 
 child. Katharine followed him to the door. 
 
 Arthur and Ned Wilkins were coming up the walk. 
 They stopped on the veranda, urged Vaughan to 
 return and, failing that, held him in conversation for 
 some minutes. Katharine watched them from the 
 window, until the tall, slender figure in the black 
 frock-coat left them and went swiftly down the hill. 
 Then she returned to the piano and the sheet of paper 
 with the few hastily written bars of music on it. She 
 did not play them over, but sat looking at them, her 
 hands on her lap. What a strange, strange man! 
 What was he? How did he come to be himself? 
 Was he old? Was he young? He was grave, with 
 the gravity of age, light with the lightness of youth. 
 The furrows of age were in his forehead, but through 
 the silken beard which veiled but did not conceal them, 
 one caught the curve of a scarlet lip, the flash of 
 white teeth belonging to youth. His eyes were gray, 
 brown, black how they changed! And they held in 
 their depths the despair of the world, held, too, life 
 and laughter and the appeal of the born lover. Did 
 he know that? 
 
 All white and black he was, so very white, so very 
 black white brow, heavy, curling black hair his 
 hands were brown, he had worked with them, he said. 
 They did not show it. What hands, instinct with 
 life, emotion, fire, your true musician s hands ! How 
 did it happen that she had not seen him fairly until 
 
CONFIDENCES 103 
 
 to-day? Was it because she had not looked? Or 
 did he require the atmosphere of music to reveal him 
 self? Or was he indeed three men, at least, seen in 
 these three visits to the house? And in which was 
 he most himself? 
 
 These were only a few of the questions Katharine 
 asked herself that night and successive days and 
 nights, when she was far from Eureka, yet remem 
 bering it as she had never remembered it before dur 
 ing her many absences. 
 
 The church was dim when Vaughan entered it, but 
 a light shone outward from the study. A figure 
 appeared in the doorway and a voice called, " There 
 he is now." Another figure appeared, and another 
 voice, thickened by drink, cried, " H w are ye, Par 
 son? Don member me? I m Addison." 
 
 " He ain t got so much down but what he knows 
 his own name," drawled his companion, who proved 
 to be the cowboy Dick. 
 
 " When shall we three meet again ? " he chanted. 
 He threw off a jacket tied around his neck by the 
 sleeves. 
 
 " Hard luck again, Parson. Dislocated shoulder, 
 this time. Foolin , up at Jack s. I didn t dare let 
 Doc set it, alone. I made him bring me down here." 
 
 " Puffec ly com tent," declared Addison, blinking 
 at the lamp. " One, two, three degrees four, five 
 how many degrees I took, Dicky ? " 
 
 " Never mind your degrees ; come here and set this 
 
104 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 shoulder," exclaimed the cowboy. "Parson, you ll 
 see he does it right, won t you? " 
 
 Vaughan promised and Addison began to work the 
 arm. At the first twinge " Cussin Dick " made good 
 his name. 
 
 Vaughan s nerves, already over-tired, rebelled. 
 " If you don t stop that," he broke in, " I ll leave you 
 to get out of this scrape the best way you can." 
 
 " Stop what? " inquired the cowboy in surprise. 
 
 " Swearing." 
 
 " Was I swearing? I didn t know it. Excuse me, 
 Parson. I ll try not to any more." 
 
 " Don do any good, Dicky." Addison wagged 
 his head solemnly from side to side. " Swearin s 
 damn poor business, t any time." 
 
 " Go on, you ! " Dick paused with a comi 
 cally helpless look. 
 
 Addison proceeded. Dick set his teeth. The bone 
 shot into place. Beads of perspiration stood on the 
 sufferer s forehead, but he uttered not a word. They 
 bandaged him and threw the jacket again over his 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Where are you going, now? " asked Vaughan. 
 
 "Over to the Widder McClintock s boarding- 
 house," was the answer. 
 
 " I ll go with you," said Vaughan. 
 
 " So ll I," affirmed Addison affectionately, " I ll 
 never leave you, Dicky, never till I get my dollar 
 n a half." 
 
CONFIDENCES 105 
 
 " We ll shake him, outside," whispered Dick. But 
 Addison dropped off voluntarily at the door, mutter 
 ing as he zigzagged down the street, " Good fellers, 
 both of em, but too damn rapid for me. I have to 
 go slow." 
 
 " The Widder " had cleared the dining-room and 
 set the table for breakfast, but she graciously per 
 mitted the latecomers to occupy a place at one end. 
 Her sister waited on them. She was, if possible, more 
 unattractive than " the Widder." When she had 
 supplied their needs she drew a chair beside Dick. 
 " The Widder " took the other side of him. They 
 quite ignored the Parson. The disabled man must not 
 think of going back to the ranch, they said. He 
 had been acting as foreman for Shed Wellman. They 
 would take care of him until he was in shape, the very 
 best care in the world. 
 
 " How can he endure those creatures ! " thought 
 Vaughan. 
 
 He hurried through supper and returned to his 
 quiet study, there to review the occurrences of the 
 day, choosing what he would to think over, letting 
 what he would sink into oblivion. Among the things 
 he chose to forget were the funeral and the dislocated 
 shoulder and the boarding-house. On the other hand, 
 he dwelt lingeringly and with the same comfortable 
 sensation he had experienced when with her, upon his 
 confidences with Katharine. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 JACK AND MAT " COME INTO THE GAME " 
 
 A10NG other devices for " running the ma 
 chine," Vaughan s predecessor had had a 
 number of small cards printed and tacked on 
 the front of each pew stating, "This Church De 
 pends For Its Support Upon Voluntary Contribu 
 tions." 
 
 Whenever the present incumbent saw this state 
 ment he was reminded of a dog he once owned, which 
 used to nudge him and then sit up and beg. The 
 trick availed with the dog. It had not been worth 
 much to the church. Apart from Jack s collection 
 the night he served as " deaking " and the money Bill 
 had gathered in his hat the day of Charley Daven 
 port s funeral, the gross receipts had been small. The 
 young preacher lost no sleep over this condition of 
 affairs. The expense of running the church was 
 slight; for his own living he demanded very little. 
 Until winter should bring the added cost of fuel and 
 lights, they would worry along. So he reasoned. 
 
 Not so Jack Perry and Mat Kyle. They conferred, 
 long and earnestly, one evening at the saloon. 
 
 " He ain t goin to be able to pull it off alone," said 
 Jack. 
 
 106 
 
JACK AND MAT "INTO THE GAME" 107 
 
 " That s so," said Mat. 
 
 " You and me," said Jack, " will have to come Into 
 the game." 
 
 They formulated a plan and, while it was still fresh 
 and attractive, carried it down to the Parson s study. 
 
 " Parson," drawled Jack as soon as they were 
 seated, " me and Mat have decided that we wanter 
 take a chance in your hanky-panky business, here." 
 
 " The church ? " asked Vaughan, who was not so 
 slow in " tumbling to it " as before the occurrences 
 of the past few weeks. " I m very glad to hear you 
 express an interest." He awaited further explana 
 tion. 
 
 " We wanter ketch hold," pursued Jack, while 
 Mat s round, good-humored face assumed an ex 
 pression of genial sympathy. " There ain t much 
 doin at present, that we can figger on," Jack con 
 tinued, " but a sociable always hits em fust-rate. 
 What d ye think of havin a sociable, Parson ? " 
 
 " It might be a very good idea," said the Parson. 
 
 66 What we propose is this," concluded the speaker. 
 " We ll have a sociable. You and your hanky-pank} 
 crowd take it and run it till, say, nine-thirty, then you 
 and your shift turn it over to the night shift that s 
 Mat and me. Next morning we ll stand for two hun 
 dred apiece. Ain t that right, Mat? " 
 
 " That s right," agreed Mat. 
 
 " But why should I retire with my shift ? " in 
 quired the Parson. " Would you dance? " 
 
108 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Why, yes," said Jack. 
 
 "And drink?" 
 
 " Well, there d have to be lemonade with a stick in 
 it. You couldn t ask the boys in and not give em 
 something for their money." 
 
 " Dancing and drinking," deliberated Vaughan. 
 " To help me run my church, when my church is here 
 to oppose dancing and drinking! No, gentlemen, I 
 thank you for your good intentions, but I can t ac 
 cept. See here, how much respect would you have for 
 me if I did such a thing as that? I can t afford to 
 lose your respect for four hundred dollars." 
 
 "Well, now, who d a thought of putting it that 
 way ! " exclaimed Mat. 
 
 " He s got us ! " cried Jack, slapping his knee. 
 " But look-a-here. I don t like to fall off the dock 
 this way. I d made up my mind to come into the 
 game. What d ye say, Mat, suppose we ante, any 
 how?" He drew a ten-dollar gold-piece from his 
 pocket and laid it on the desk. " I m good for that 
 once a month," he said. 
 
 " I m with ye," said Mat, producing a saltbag and 
 from it laboriously extracting five silver dollars and a 
 five-dollar gold-piece. He spread them in a row be 
 side Jack s offering, then looked inquiringly at Jack. 
 
 " I m not goin yet," said Jack. " I ve got a little 
 fault to find with last Sunday s sermon. I ve noticed 
 that the first thing you do when you start in to be a 
 pillar of the church is to begin to kick ! " There 
 
JACK AND MAT "INTO THE GAME" 109 
 
 was a humorous twinkle in Jack s steel-gray eyes 
 which endured until Mat had left the room ; but it en 
 tirely disappeared when he found himself alone with 
 the Parson. Cool and clear to their depths and full 
 of the purpose of a man in the habit of " seeing things 
 through " were those strange, quiet eyes. When he 
 spoke, however, it was in his customary drawl. 
 
 " Parson," he began, " I ve follered you pretty 
 close since you ve come to this camp. I ve watched 
 ye, in an out, an up an down, and I guess, on the 
 whole, you re pretty level-headed. But sometimes 
 I m inclined to think you fool yourself." 
 
 " Possibly," granted Vaughan, wondering what was 
 coming next. " Probably. Most of us do fool our 
 selves." 
 
 " I don t," said Jack quickly. " I can t. I ain t 
 educated. I ain t got religion. But one thing was 
 given me at the start, to see clear. I can t tell what 
 I see, always, not the whole of it." 
 
 " We can t any of us do that," returned Vaughan. 
 
 " That s just why I m going to ask you a few ques 
 tions," said Jack. " You prob ly don t tell the whole 
 of what you saw, and I wanter hear the rest of it, 
 Do you remember what you preached about ? " 
 
 " Special Providences," returned the preacher, to 
 whom every sermon was a distinct, definite, extraordi 
 nary product. 
 
 " That s it," said Jack. " Special Interference on 
 the part of The Old Gentleman Above." The re- 
 
110 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 spectful tone in which he bestowed upon the Deity 
 this title and the deprecating upward movement of his 
 hands took from it any savor of irreverence. It re 
 called to the hearer old engravings he had seen rep 
 resenting the First Person of the Godhead sitting on 
 a cloudy throne, an ancient, patriarchal figure with a 
 flowing, grizzled beard and a general expression of 
 benevolence and wisdom. He therefore made no at 
 tempt to correct the impression or change the phras 
 eology. Indeed, Jack s was not a nature to invite 
 correction in a matter of this sort. 
 
 " You made out that the Old Gentleman had His 
 favorites," continued Jack, " and I don t say but 
 what He has. You told about that preaching boss 
 being saved in the car wreck do you recollect? You 
 told some other pretty tall yarns about this one and 
 that who was pertected. But I could match em. 
 
 " I could give just as many argyments on the other 
 side. For instance, there was that cave-in, up there 
 at Virginia City, in one of the mines. Some of the 
 miners were killed, some wasn t. Among them that 
 wasn t was a religious cuss named Luke. He and all 
 the rest of the church members had a regular rejoicin , 
 whooped her up good because a special providence 
 took care of Luke. 
 
 " But damn it, when there was another cave-in and 
 another church member come up dead, the same gang 
 had to go and howl and wonder at the awful dispen 
 sation. 
 
JACK AND MAT "INTO THE GAME" 111 
 
 " Take another case. Three times this town s ben 
 swep by fire. The wind has blown the flames down 
 the canyon and cleaned out everything except my 
 saloon, and that s the oldest rattlety-bang of the lot. 
 All your hanky-panky establishments, put up spe 
 cially for the worship of The Old Gentleman, were 
 gutted. Does that prove I m a favorite, because I ve 
 tried to run a decent kind of a place? How about 
 your gospel mills? What made Him clean those out? 
 
 " Look here, too." Jack unbuttoned his shirt and 
 displayed his great, hairy chest, scarred by knife 
 thrust and pistol. " I m like that all over my body. 
 There ain t hardly an inch, as you might say, that 
 don t tell a story. What brought me through ? Was 
 it a Special Providence ? I m inclined to think so. 
 But how about the other feller? " 
 
 Vaughan was thinking; he was thinking fast and 
 hard. 
 
 " I believe, Jack," he said honestly, " I shall have 
 to preach another sermon. I do believe that God is 
 with His saints, that He protects His servants, but 
 what you ve said shows me that I believe much more. 
 It is no mark of Divine disfavor that a man must 
 suffer and die. He has allowed His servants to be 
 slain from time immemorial. Paul writes of those who 
 had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, 
 moreover of bonds and imprisonment, they were 
 stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were 
 slain with the sword ; they wandered about in sheep- 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 skins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tor 
 mented, (of whom the world was not worthy), they 
 wandered in deserts and in mountains and in dens and 
 caves of the earth. " 
 
 As Vaughan rehearsed the tragic, stirring words, 
 his features took on the look they sometimes wore, of 
 realization, of prophecy. 
 
 Jack studied him. That was the way the Parson 
 looked when he stood before Charley Davenport s 
 open grave. Was he like the men of old, who heard a 
 Voice and repeated what they heard ? Was he one to 
 follow? Would he lead straight, and sure, to the 
 Right Place? Jack wondered. But he revealed 
 nothing of this. His expression remained inscru 
 table, his eyes continued cold, as he answered easily : 
 
 " They got it, didn t they ! I suppose they were 
 so dead set on the game they never knew what hit 
 them." 
 
 " Wonderful, isn t it ! " cried Vaughan. His face 
 still wore its rapt expression. 
 
 " Big thing ! " said Jack. There was a wistful tone 
 in his voice. Jack was sixty his last birthday. Life 
 was taking on a different aspect to him from what it 
 wore when he was in his prime. He had tried some 
 things, had seen others tried, knew how worthless they 
 all were. He would like to get hold of something 
 different, something that would stay with a man when 
 he came to what Charley Davenport came to the 
 other day. 
 
JACK AND MAT "INTO THE GAME" 113 
 
 He stood up slowly. The bulk of him, the power 
 of him under the light ! 
 
 "What have I to give such a man?" thought 
 Vaughan. " Must you go ? " he asked boyishly. 
 
 "I must get back," replied Jack absent-mindedly. 
 At the door he turned. " Say, there s one thing 
 you d orter look into," he said, coming back. 
 "Cussin Dick s a-loafin round there to the Widder 
 McClintock s altogether too long for his own good. 
 Tell him to go long home and mind his business." 
 
 " Where is his home ? " 
 
 "I don t mean home, that s East. Out at Well- 
 man s ranch. He s been actin as foreman there. 
 Shed will dump him if he s fresh. Dick s too good a 
 feller to be roped in by that McClintock crowd." 
 
 " He might not listen to me," said Vaughan doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " Make him. That s part of the stunt lookin* 
 after the lost, strayed and stolen, ain t it? " queried 
 Jack. 
 
 " Assuredly," said Vaughan, smiling. 
 
 Jack had certainly "come into the game." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 AN UNLUCKY BRIDEGROOM 
 
 VAUGHAN meant to keep his word and see 
 what could be done about extricating Dick, 
 but was prevented. Before he was out of 
 bed the next morning there came a tap at the window. 
 Will Dower had driven down from Galena the previous 
 day, arriving too late to call that night. Minnie 
 Hollaway had sent him. Mrs. Henley was ill, 
 " worn out," Minnie said. Frank was discouraged 
 about her and Minnie had decided to send for the 
 Parson. 
 
 Will spoke as if he were already one of the family 
 and bound to " take an interest." 
 
 " We decided," he said the pride, the proprietor 
 ship of that " we " " that if you could drive back 
 with me, just for a day or so, twould do her a heap 
 of good." 
 
 " I ll be ready immediately," replied Vaughan, 
 springing out of bed. " Come around to the side 
 door and I ll let you in." 
 
 While he dressed and packed his bag, Will made 
 coffee, under his directions, on the little oil-stove, and 
 set out a lunch. They ate hurriedly and were off be- 
 
 114 
 
AN UNLUCKY BRIDEGROOM 115 
 
 fore the intense heat of the Nevada summer should 
 hinder their rapid advance. 
 
 It was a bright morning, the air was crystal-clear. 
 Distance there was none. From the mountain, over 
 the valley, everything was near, distinct. There were 
 no mysteries, no complexities. Life seemed more 
 livable, duty simply going straight onward. 
 
 " Does she know I m coming? " asked Vaughan as 
 they drew up before the door. 
 
 " She didn t, when I came away," said Will. " Per 
 haps they ve told her. There s Min, now." 
 
 Miss Hollaway had appeared at the window. She 
 met them at the door, accompanied by the two little 
 girls. 
 
 " So good of you to come ! " she said, pressing 
 Vaughan s hand. " Yes, she knows. You can go 
 right up." 
 
 Mary was lying on a couch between the windows, 
 every shutter open to catch what air there might be 
 stirring. She was pale and worn, but her face 
 brightened as she saw Clement, and when he knelt be 
 side the couch and put his arms around her, the color 
 came flooding back into her thin cheeks. 
 
 Frank, who had been sitting by the window, arose 
 and stood over them, curious and thoughtful. 
 
 " I really believe it was you that she wanted, Clem," 
 he said at length. " If you were anyone else " 
 
 " Oh, I don t count," interrupted Clement quickly. 
 "What are you giving her?" 
 
116 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Frank named some remedies obtained from the 
 doctor at Battle Mountain, who had driven out twice 
 to see her. 
 
 " All wrong," said Clement. " Now, I have some 
 thing in my bag where is my bag? " Minnie 
 brought it. " A glass of water and a spoon, please. 
 Thank you." He poured a few drops from a vial 
 into the glass and himself administered the first dose. 
 " You ll be glad some day that I studied medicine," he 
 said to Mary. 
 
 " Yes, doctor," she returned happily and nestled 
 down among her pillows. " Sit here by me and tell 
 me everything." 
 
 Clement drew a low seat beside the couch, took one 
 of the worn, white hands in his magnetic brown ones 
 and began to talk, of the pleasant experiences he had 
 had, making them sound even pleasanter. 
 
 Frank and Minnie left the room. A breeze came 
 up and shook the curtain. Mary s purple-veined eye 
 lids fluttered and fell, her breathing grew deeper, 
 more even, she slept. After a while Minnie softly 
 opened the door and whispered " Dinner ! " Clem 
 ent frowned. She hastily withdrew and closed it 
 again. 
 
 The afternoon wore on. The sleeper had not 
 stirred. 
 
 At last her lips began to move and pucker like those 
 of a hungry child. The watcher gently laid down her 
 hand and went to prepare a bowl of broth. 
 
AN UNLUCKY BRIDEGROOM 117 
 
 " You ll do, now," he said, when she had greedily 
 swallowed the last mouthful. 
 
 " But you " began Minnie, who had followed 
 
 him into the room. He shook his head at her. 
 
 Presently he joined her in the hall. " I ll eat every 
 thing you have in the house, now," he said joyously. 
 " Bring it on." 
 
 He was up at dawn and off for a gallop on Black 
 Birdie, and the next day Will drove him back to 
 Eureka. 
 
 Mary drew him down to her, when he said good- 
 by, and detained him an instant. 
 
 " Clement," she said softly, " have you heard any 
 thing from Delia ? " 
 
 He gently withdrew himself from her. " Nothing 
 definite," he answered, flushing. 
 
 " Oh, she wrote, then," said Mary in a relieved tone. 
 
 " She wrote my name on the outside of the en 
 velope in which my letter to her was inclosed." 
 
 She caught his hand. "Unopened?" 
 
 " Unopened." 
 
 " Oh, Clement." 
 
 " Come, come," called Frank, and she let him go. 
 
 When the two travelers reached the church, they 
 found a slip of paper tucked under the study door. 
 On it was scrawled, " Come to Mrs. McClintock s and 
 marry a couple." 
 
 " We ll have supper first," decided Vaughan. 
 
118 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Minnie had packed for them a generous basket. Will 
 brought it in and by the light of the lamp they spread 
 out the goodies. 
 
 " They ll think you ain t comin ," said Will, biting 
 into a sandwich. " I d hate to have you lose a fee." 
 
 " A man must eat," replied Clement, attacking a 
 raspberry tart. He had forgotten the fast at Galena. 
 
 Hunger appeased, they started, Will to go to his 
 room, Clement, to the boarding-house. Before they 
 separated at the corner the scraping of a fiddle and 
 the stamp of heavy feet upon a wooden floor came over 
 to them through the open windows opposite, then an 
 outbreak of harsh, hilarious voices. 
 
 " They ve started in," said Will. " Perhaps they ve 
 found someone else to do it." 
 
 " I ll stop and see," said Vaughan. He took the 
 narrow footpath up to the house and Will went on. 
 
 It was some time before anyone answered the rap at 
 the door. At last the widow herself responded. 
 She was in holiday attire and so much the more dread 
 ful for that, Vaughan decided. 
 
 " We calc lated you wa n t comin ," she said with an 
 independent fling, " so he started for another parson." 
 
 Who was he, Vaughan wondered. Who was the 
 poor, besotted fool who could so far forget himself 
 as to marry either one of these women ! 
 
 The sister was the bride, it seemed. In addition 
 to her other finery she wore a wisp of veil drooping 
 fantastically over one ear. 
 
AN UNLUCKY BRIDEGROOM 119 
 
 The room was full of men and women; miners, 
 workers in the mill or at the furnace, a coarse, brutal 
 lot. All of the men were smoking. Men and women 
 alike had been drinking. 
 
 " There he comes ! " shouted the bride. The rest 
 took up the cry, and there entered Dick, the bandage 
 still over his shoulder! He was followed by Haver- 
 ford, the Episcopal minister whom Vaughan had met 
 on the hill. Dick went obediently to his bride. 
 Haverford stood with his bag, looking for a place in 
 which to robe. Finally he spied Vaughan. 
 
 " Ah, you came," he said in a relieved tone. 
 " You will, of course, perform the ceremony." 
 
 " I am not anxious to," Vaughan returned gloomily. 
 " It ought not to be allowed." 
 
 " I don t see how anyone is going to prevent it," 
 said Haverford, glancing at the formidable array of 
 witnesses. 
 
 Here Dick, prompted by the bride, crossed over to 
 them. 
 
 " What are you waiting for ? " he demanded. 
 
 "Can this be you, Dick?" asked Vaughan re 
 proachfully. 
 
 "That s who it is," returned the cowboy, with a 
 string of oaths establishing his identity beyond 
 question. The company applauded. The bride 
 giggled. 
 
 " Very well, stand up there," said Vaughan stiffly, 
 and the pair obeyed. 
 
120 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 The ceremony proceeded. Except for a dazed, far 
 away look in his eyes the unlucky bridegroom seemed 
 quite himself and conscious of what he was doing. 
 He responded promptly, did as he was told. 
 
 It was the bride who showed signs of more than or 
 dinary stimulation. She had fortified herself for the 
 event, and, with her exuberant delight over her cap 
 ture, appeared a grotesque bacchante, with all of the 
 abandon and none of the grace that makes such a 
 figure tolerable. She pranced, she bridled, she 
 turned this way and that, cast sidelong glances at the 
 bridegroom, whose eyes kept their dazed, far-away 
 look, and when it came her turn to respond to the 
 question, " Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded 
 husband? " she threw her arms around the victim s 
 neck, shouting, " By gosh, I will, Dick ! " 
 
 The ritual fell from the Parson s hands. 
 
 " What do you mean," he demanded, " by this un 
 seemly conduct? You are taking part in a religious 
 ceremony and you will please remember that fact." 
 He continued the service. There were no more out 
 breaks. 
 
 The necessary papers were produced and signed. 
 Haverford witnessed. Dick produced a twenty-dollar 
 gold-piece and handed it, not to the officiating clergy 
 man, but to the witness. 
 
 "What is this for?" inquired Haverford. "I 
 didn t marry you." 
 
 "Who did?" asked Dick. 
 
AN UNLUCKY BRIDEGROOM 
 
 "He did," answered Haverford, pointing to 
 Vaughan. 
 
 " Give it to Jiim then," said Dick nonchalantly and 
 turned away. 
 
 " That was a queer thing," said Haverford, as the 
 two clergymen left the house. 
 
 " It was all queer," said Vaughan shortly. " I feel 
 as if I had committed a crime." 
 
 " Nonsense," exclaimed his companion. 
 
 " Would you have done it if I hadn t ? " asked 
 Vaughan, stopping in the middle of the walk. 
 
 " Of course," returned the other. " It s all in the 
 day s work. When you ve been here as long as I 
 have, you won t take these people so seriously. 
 Hullo, there s a meeting of the D. P. I. ! " 
 
 He glanced down Main Street, where a row of 
 lighted candles were set up in the middle of the road. 
 
 "Is that it?" asked Vaughan. "I thought it 
 was a danger signal." 
 
 " No, it s the D. P. I." Haverford laughed to 
 himself. "I wonder whom Barker has caught," he 
 mused. 
 
 Barker everybody knew. Vaughan had not been 
 in town an hour before the dissolute, brilliant, eccen 
 tric lawyer had been pointed out to him ; but of the D. 
 P. I. he had not heard till now. It was, of course, 
 he said to himself, one of those secret societies of 
 which the town was full. He did not think Haver 
 ford went in for that sort of thing. At another time 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 curiosity might have spurred him on to an investiga 
 tion, but to-night his mind was full of Dick s unfor 
 tunate entanglement. 
 
 " I ll go right down," said Haverford, and hurried 
 away in the direction of the candles. 
 
 Vaughan went back to his study. What would 
 Jack think of him, after the warning given, the pledge 
 received ? 
 
 What did he think of himself, to be drawn into such 
 a scrape? How did it happen? It was because he 
 had come home so sure of himself, so complacent, so 
 satisfied. Then was the time to be humble and watch 
 ful and on his guard. Instead, he had dallied over his 
 supper and gone to meet the enemy full of pride and 
 raspberry tart. He should have prayed and pre 
 pared himself for the religious ceremony he had been 
 called to perform. If he had done this, he would 
 have seen clearly and been strong enough to take 
 a stand, would have cowed the rabble and held back 
 Haverford and given Dick a chance. 
 
 Only constant vigilance, the deepest humility, un 
 varying obedience to the holy vision, could carry him 
 through the work he had undertaken. It was too big 
 for him, too big for any man ; but, as Mary Henley 
 had said, it was not too big for God. If he submitted 
 utterly to Divine guidance, putting self aside, he 
 could accomplish it. Otherwise he was doomed to 
 pitiable failure. For such an impulsive, easily af 
 fected nature there was no middle course. 
 
AN UNLUCKY BRIDEGROOM 
 
 So he scourged himself with regrets, put on the 
 sackcloth of penitence, bestrewed himself with the 
 ashes of humility, and dedicated himself anew to his 
 work. 
 
 Meanwhile, down at the Widow McClintock s 
 the orgies were at their height. Swept along by he 
 knew not what evil influence, Dick the cowboy drank 
 and danced and cursed and drank again, nor knew 
 until the next morning that he was a married man. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. I, 
 
 A I I addressing the Reverend Clement 
 Vaughan? " 
 
 The speaker, standing in the doorway 
 of the study, with his back against the light, was 
 visible only in outline. When his question had been 
 answered in the affirmative, he stepped inside. 
 
 " I am Samuel Barker," he announced, with a pro 
 found obeisance. 
 
 The light from the window revealed him now. He 
 was small, slight, fair, with watery blue eyes, a nose 
 too large for his face, a dejected mustache, womanish 
 hands. He had the manners of a Chesterfield, ac 
 companied by a sidelong, cynical glance, characteris 
 tic of no one but himself. 
 
 " I have the honor to inform you," he said, ad 
 vancing and putting into Clement s hands a neat roll, 
 " that you have been elected a member of the D. P. I." 
 
 Haverford s words, " I wonder whom Barker has 
 caught," returned to Vaughan, and he hesitated. 
 
 " I was not aware that anyone had proposed my 
 name for membership," he said. " I m not in a posi 
 tion, at present " 
 
THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. I. 125 
 
 " My dear sir pardon me for interrupting," in 
 terposed Barker. " It was not necessary for anyone 
 to propose your name. It never is, in the D. P. I. 
 That is one of the peculiarities of the organization. 
 As soon as a man distinguishes himself in such a way 
 as to make him eligible to the society he becomes a 
 member. The election merely confirms what is al 
 ready a fait accompli." 
 
 " But I have not done anything here," pursued 
 Vaughan. " In England I was an F. R. H. S., F. R. 
 A. S., F. R. M. S., F. G. S., and M. V. I." He paused 
 before the glint of impish delight in Barker s eyes, 
 but all the visitor said was, " I don t know that we 
 have any member quite so distinguished, unless it be 
 Bismarck." 
 
 " Bismarck ! " exclaimed Vaughan in surprise. " Is 
 he a member? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have a personal letter from Bismarck, 
 acknowledging his election. One from Gladstone, 
 also, acknowledging his. We have all the great 
 statesmen, many scientists, professional men and 
 artists and quite a number of clergymen." 
 
 " Strange that I never heard of the society before," 
 mused Vaughan. " Who is the president ? " 
 
 " There isn t any. The only officer is the secre 
 tary, whom you see before you." Barker bowed 
 again. 
 
 " And the dues ? " Vaughan continued. 
 
 " There are no dues," Barker replied. " When we 
 
126 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 meet on business, as we did a few evenings ago, a col 
 lection is taken up. If we have a banquet, each 
 member present is taxed so much a plate." 
 
 " Most extraordinary ! " murmured Vaughan, 
 fingering the roll. 
 
 " I will leave you to examine it at your leisure," 
 said Barker, rising. " Whenever you see the lighted 
 candles in the middle of the street you will know that 
 there is a meeting. I bid you good-morning ! " and 
 he tiptoed out of the study. 
 
 Left to himself, Vaughan hastily untied the roll. 
 It was handsomely engraved, with spaces left for fill 
 ing in the name of the member, the date, and what 
 particular achievement had made him eligible. This 
 was the item Vaughan first sought. "Rejected the 
 Offer of a Paying Deal." What could that be? 
 
 He glanced at the top of the page. Cunningly 
 interwoven with scrolls and arabesques was the name 
 of the society, "Damn Phool Infirmary!" 
 
 So, it was a hoax, a grind, a delicate way of 
 insinuating that he had made a fool of himself, was a 
 candidate for the Infirmary ! " The Paying Deal " 
 was, of course, the offer of four hundred dollars by 
 Jack and Mat for a share in a church sociable. He 
 thrust the certificate into a drawer of the desk and 
 returned to his sermon-writing. 
 
 Meanwhile, the founder of the D. P. I., enjoying to 
 the full the revelations of himself made by the new 
 member, entered the store occupied by Poole and 
 
THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. I. 
 
 Pilcher repeating " F. R. H. S., F. R. A. S., F. R. 
 M. S., F. G. S., M. V. I." 
 
 "What have you been taking?" demanded Poole, 
 leaning over the counter to scrutinize the visitor. 
 
 " Nothing, George, nothing," Barker returned 
 with a wave of the hand. " Two big cases on, to-day. 
 Nevada Bill and Cussin Dick murder and marriage. 
 How can I take anything? " 
 
 " What s all that lingo you were getting off? 
 Sounded as if you were drunk." 
 
 " George," said Barker gravely, " you always 
 think if there s anything you don t understand, that 
 it is incomprehensible." 
 
 " What s up ? " asked Pilcher, coming out from 
 the large inner room which he and Poole called " the 
 den." 
 
 " F. R. H. S., F. R. A. S., F. R. M. S., F. G. S., 
 M. V. I.," repeated Barker glibly. " Those are the 
 titles and subtitles of a new volume recently added 
 to the D. P. I. a volume of essays." 
 
 " Oh, talk United States ! " grumbled Poole. 
 
 " What are you driving at ? " queried Pilcher, look 
 ing down with a smile upon the two. 
 
 Poole was not a large man, although " hard as 
 nails," as he told everyone, displaying proudly what 
 he called his " labor-hardened muscles." He had 
 been a miner, but had risen gradually until he was 
 now superintendent of the Belle Isle mines. Smooth- 
 skinned, florid, he presented a marked contrast to 
 
128 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the other George Pilcher who was tall, slender and 
 dark, evidently of Jewish descent. 
 
 " A volume of essays ? " he repeated. 
 
 " Yes, theological," replied Barker. 
 
 " Oh you mean the Sage Brush Parson ! " 
 
 " He didn t call himself that," returned Barker. 
 " He said he was F. R. H. S., F. R. A. S., F. M. S., 
 F. G. S., M. V. I." 
 
 " What does all that mean? " broke in Pilcher. 
 
 " Damned if I know," returned Barker. " Get a 
 dictionary." 
 
 The book was brought and the abbreviations were 
 identified. " If he says he s all that, he s a damn 
 liar ! " said Poole, striking the open page with his 
 fist. 
 
 " There he s outside my jurisdiction," said Barker. 
 " My business is solely with the D. P. I. As a liar, 
 he will have to answer to the S. L. C. Good-morning, 
 gentlemen," and he took his leave. 
 
 His next step was to send a summons to the indi 
 vidual under discussion, citing him to appear as a 
 witness in the divorce proceedings instituted by 
 Richard Dale against Mrs. Richard Dale, and another 
 summons to the Reverend Frederick Haverford for 
 a similar purpose. Then he went to Court. 
 
 When the two clergymen appeared, the evidence 
 was all in for the murder case, and Barker, lawyer 
 for the defense, was about to address the jury. 
 
 The State, in the person of the district attorney, 
 
THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. I. 
 
 was prosecuting Nevada Bill for the killing of an 
 unknown miner. 
 
 Nevada Bill had had a quarrel with Alkali Ike and 
 the two had promised themselves and their friends to 
 kill each other " on sight." Nevada Bill had stationed 
 himself on Jackson s Corner to watch for his enemy. 
 After a while Ike appeared, rendered conspicuous, a 
 long way off, by his limp, a reminder of the poor 
 marksmanship of another man who had had a quarrel 
 with him and whose shot had struck Ike s knee instead 
 of his heart a fatal mistake, as the man s funeral, 
 two days later, testified. 
 
 " Such bunglin s got to be sat down on," Ike 
 declared when he gave himself up to the sheriff. 
 " Self-defense " they called it, but it was really 
 defense of a principle. The limp would last as long 
 as he did. 
 
 It was impossible to mistake Ike. It was equally 
 impossible to hit him. Whenever Bill took aim, Ike 
 dodged, or seemed to dodge, almost to the level of the 
 sidewalk. At length, in desperation, Bill fired, Ike 
 bobbed, and the bullet intended for him killed an 
 inoffensive stranger who happened to be passing on 
 the other side of the street. 
 
 All this had been proved. Any man but Barker 
 would have despaired of the case. Not he, however. 
 In his blandest tones, with his most impressive 
 manner, he addressed the jury. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Jury," he began, after the 
 
130 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 stir had subsided attending the entrance of the two 
 witnesses for the Dale case. " In murder, as you are 
 aware, malice must be proved. Otherwise it is not 
 murder. I put it to you, Gentlemen of the Jury, 
 where was the malice in this case? There was none. 
 My client did not even know the deceased. He had 
 never seen him until that morning. How can there be 
 malice when one man does not know another? Im- 
 pos-sible, gentlemen, im-pos-sible ! There was no 
 malice there ! 
 
 " This was no murder. It was a visitation of 
 Providence. The deceased came to his death 
 accidentally! " 
 
 The Jury sat open-mouthed. A broad grin over 
 spread the rugged features of Alkali Ike. Barker 
 caught a glimpse of it and turned. " Gentlemen of 
 the Jury," he exclaimed, " if you want to find the 
 real criminal, there he sits ! " He pointed straight 
 at Ike. " If he d stood up and walked like any other 
 decent man, and had taken his own shots when they 
 were fired at him, this poor stranger would never 
 have been killed. It is he, with his mean, delusive, 
 evasive walk who is responsible for the death of the 
 unknown! " 
 
 Ike s jaw dropped. He sat aghast. The court 
 smiled. The spectators applauded. Barker took his 
 seat well pleased. 
 
 The Jury brought in a verdict of " Not guilty," 
 and the Court went merrily on with the divorce pro 
 ceeding of Richard Dale vs. Mrs. Richard Dale, 
 
THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. I. 131 
 
 The case promised little for Dick from the start 
 There were plenty of witnesses to prove that he 
 acted of his own volition. He had declared openly 
 that he was going to marry the woman, had himself 
 invited the guests, bought the liquor, engaged the 
 musicians, gone for the clergymen, not one, but two, 
 so great was his haste. The shyster lawyer whom the 
 widow had summoned from Battle Mountain seemed 
 to have everything in his hands. 
 
 Then Barker took his turn. He obtained from 
 Vaughan and Haverford testimony calculated to ex 
 cite suspicion, but no more. Then he called the 
 widow. 
 
 She took the stand with brazen assurance. She 
 was ready to defy Barker himself on this occasion. 
 
 " You will please relate the circumstances attend 
 ing the betrothal of the pair under discussion," said 
 Barker formally. " On the night when the plaintiff 
 proposed to the defendant, had he been drinking ? " 
 
 " Not to signify," responded the witness in a 
 harsh, rasping voice. " He took his dram, same s all 
 of em." 
 
 "Who gave it to him?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " You poured it out into the glass?," 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Can you produce the glass ? " 
 
 She gave him a quick look. " Why, no. Twas 
 just an ordinary tumbler washed up and put away 
 with the rest of em=" 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " You cannot produce it ? " repeated Barker. 
 
 " No," she said again. 
 
 Barker paused. " / can" he said steadily. 
 
 He beckoned to a young man at the opposite side 
 of the room, who brought to him a paper parcel. 
 This Barker unrolled and displayed, so that every 
 one could see, a dingy tumbler of ordinary, heavy 
 make. 
 
 " When you got Red Mike to smoke strong tobacco 
 into this - " he began peremptorily. 
 
 " I never did no such a thing - " she interrupted 
 tremulously. 
 
 " Silence ! " exclaimed Barker, and she cowered. 
 
 The bride was whitening under her rouge and she 
 nervously moistened her full, red lips with her 
 tongue. 
 
 " When you got Red Mike to smoke strong tobacco 
 into that glass so that there was a film of nicotine 
 which remained on the sides," repeated the lawyer, 
 " and when you poured whisky into that glass for Mr. 
 Richard Dale, were you aware that you were making 
 yourself and your accomplice liable for a criminal 
 offense?" 
 
 A disturbance in the rear of the room attracted 
 attention from the speaker. A stout miner was grap 
 pling with Red Mike, who succeeded, however, in 
 wrenching himself away and jumping out of the 
 window. Half a dozen men and boys started in pur 
 suit. Everyone crowded to the windows or stood up 
 
THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. I. 133 
 
 on chairs to look. Not until a report was brought 
 back that Red Mike had doubled on his pursuers and 
 dodged into some hole which opened to receive him, 
 was order restored. Then Barker again put his 
 question, adding, " I suppose you did it as a joke." 
 
 " Ye-es," she answered with chattering teeth. 
 " That s what it was, a a joke. He-he," she 
 laughed hysterically. " Course twas a joke." 
 
 A joke and the outcome of a joke the Court 
 declared the marriage. Dick went his way and the 
 designing women went theirs. 
 
 An inquisitive group gathered around Barker and 
 asked to see the tumbler. Haverford and Vaughan 
 were among them. 
 
 " So that is what they call a dope ? " said Haver- 
 ford, taking the tumbler and holding it up to the 
 light. 
 
 " That s what it was," replied Barker. " It made 
 Dick very obedient." 
 
 " How did you ever contrive to get hold of such a 
 damaging piece of testimony? " Haverford inquired. 
 
 " Borrowed it," said Barker coolly. " That 
 tumbler belongs to Jack. I mustn t forget to carry 
 it back." 
 
 "Then it wasn t the Widdcr s tumbler at all?" 
 called half a dozen voices. 
 
 " Oh, no, that tumbler s Jack s," said Barker. " I 
 suspected some such trick. I knew Red Mike of old. 
 The Widder knew she was guilty and when Mike gave 
 
134 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the thing away she cadunkered. The Widder s a 
 fool, for all she thinks she s smart." 
 
 " Is she a member of the D. P. I. ? " inquired 
 Vaughan somewhat bitterly. 
 
 " No, Parson ; we don t take incurables," drawled 
 the lawyer. 
 
 He rolled up the tumbler and, when the little com 
 pany left the court-house, fell into step with Vaughan 
 as they walked up the street. 
 
 " We can t take in everybody," he continued. 
 " Not but what they all belong in the same category. 
 I always wonder, when I see a man, how soon he ll 
 show his fool-spot, and what it is." 
 
 " You didn t hit mine," said Vaughan. " You hit 
 my principles." 
 
 " Bless your soul, that s what they invariably think 
 it is ! " The lawyer chuckled. He felt that he had 
 struck a new, rich vein. 
 
 " I know wherein I m a fool," continued Vaughan 
 sensitively. 
 
 "How do you know?" demanded Barker. "You 
 don t. Nobody knows that of himself. I founded 
 the society as a sort of bureau of information. And 
 I d learned how big a fool I was myself and wanted 
 a crowd to help get up a laugh. That s what being 
 a fool is for, in this dreary world." 
 
 He gave Vaughan one of his sidelong, cynical 
 glances. " Here we are, at Jack s," he said lightly. 
 " I must go in and leave his tumbler." 
 
THE FOUNDER OF THE D. P. I. 135 
 
 As Vaughan moved on he heard quick steps, and 
 Haverford overtook him. 
 
 " What do you think of Eureka Justice ? " he 
 inquired. 
 
 Vaughan shook his head. 
 
 " It s the one virtue they pride themselves on, 
 here," continued Haverford. " Giving every man 
 his due, seeing that he has fair play. Isn t Barker 
 a character? You should have seen him come into 
 Court half-seas-over, as I did the other day. 
 
 " * What does this mean ? the Judge asked. 
 
 " Wha s the matter, Judge? replied Barker. 
 
 " You re in no condition to be here, says the 
 Judge. You re drunk, sir ! 
 
 " * Firs correc decision I ever got from this 
 Court ! says Barker." 
 
 Haverford laughed. His laughter, his imitation 
 of the drunken man s utterance, grated upon 
 Vaughan s nerves. 
 
 "To me," he returned coldly, "Barker is 
 ghastly, to jest as he does in the midst of these mad, 
 irresponsible doings. His indifference to human life, 
 that horrible doping affair I don t see how you can 
 laugh!" 
 
 Haverford halted they were at the church now 
 and removed his hat, in the cool shadow of the brick 
 building. He was not as young a man as to a first 
 glance he appeared to be. His fine, soft brown hair, 
 parted in the middle and spread carefully, failed to 
 
136 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 cover the thin places. There were tell-tale marks 
 about his mouth and at the corners of his eyes, and 
 the pallor of his smoothly shaven cheeks was the 
 pallor of age, not of invalidism. That he was a 
 refined gentleman anyone could see. There could 
 be no attraction for such a nature in a place like 
 this. Why was he here? He was no missionary, no 
 zealot. Antipathetic impulses deepened to dislike in 
 Vaughan for an instant, then suddenly dissolved into 
 a curious pity as Haverford went on, " Some time, 
 when you ve been here long enough to realize the 
 horrors no, you don t realize them yet when you 
 do, you won t attempt to put them into words 
 then you will be grateful to the founder of the D. 
 P. I. for relaxing the tension in any way that he 
 can." 
 
 He started to leave, but returned, as if an idea 
 had suddenly occurred to him. " The Richmond Hill 
 people are back," he said briefly ; " they wanted me 
 to tell you, and to say that they will be very glad to 
 have you call." 
 
 " The Richmond Hill people " meant Mrs. 
 Chisholm, both men knew, but the elder was trying 
 to keep out of his voice any betrayal of the fact, and 
 the younger with an effort steadied his pulses before 
 he answered, " They are very kind. I will avail 
 myself of the opportunity, soon." 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A TROUBADOUR 
 
 KATHARINE CHISHOLM sat before her 
 piano, idly playing whatever came into her 
 head and ran down to her finger-tips, she 
 hardly knew what, until she fell upon the melody the 
 young Methodist had played that hot day in July 
 when he sang to her and told her about himself. 
 She knew the plaintive, appealing strains whether 
 they came unbidden, as now, or invoked she might 
 as well confess it by a desire to place herself again 
 under the influence she had felt then. It was not like 
 any other influence she had ever felt; therein lay its 
 charm, and, to a degree, its excuse. She knew when 
 men were in love with her; it was not like that. She 
 knew when they were straining every nerve to win her 
 approval, her interest and cooperation: it was none 
 of these. What was it? If she could find the words 
 to this strange, sweet, unworded song she felt she 
 could unlock the mystery. What did the notes say? 
 The first strain: how did it go? 
 
 -9- 
 
 "A - long the si - lent ways there came 
 137 
 
138 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 * :# 
 
 A trou - ba - dour, a trou - ba - dour," 
 
 she sang under her breath. That was it, the 
 Voice, where there had been silence, emptiness. 
 She had not known, but one never does know till 
 afterwards. 
 
 What dull days, what a meaningless existence hers 
 had been! Breakfast, luncheon and dinner, a drive 
 or a ride between, books to yawn over or get angry 
 with, callers, an afternoon tea. Then, the men in 
 the evening: Winslow, immaculate, fastidious, full 
 of little flings at this and that ; Haverf ord, poor, 
 tragic Haverford no one knew how tragic except 
 herself ; dear, good Ned Wilkins, faithful as the sun ; 
 and Arthur, bored but polite. 
 
 What did Arthur really think of the life here? 
 He would never tell. He would just go on, with 
 silent tenacity, until he had rolled up his millions; 
 then he would carry Mabel and Marguerite off to 
 Europe and never come back. He had his pas 
 sion for his beautiful wife and his love for the 
 child. 
 
 And Katharine had Elsie, the fay, the elf, incom 
 prehensible, elusive. " I adore her, of course," 
 Katharine assured herself. " But she never was 
 really mine any more than her father was." 
 
A TROUBADOUR 139 
 
 And Emmeline, with her clothes and her cosmetics, 
 that was the dreariest of all! 
 
 " Along the silent ways there came 
 A troubadour, a troubadour, 
 
 F=rf: 
 
 
 As out of dark - ness shines a flame, 
 
 
 -N-- 
 
 And in his hand no harp he bore." 
 
 No harp, no lute; she had furnished the instru 
 ment. Nothing but himself, quaintly garbed. Many 
 of Winslow s gibes had been about that long black 
 coat. On anyone else it would be grotesque. But it 
 suited him. 
 
 Only three times she had seen him. Yet she could 
 recall perfectly the tall, slender figure, the quick 
 movements, the haunting hands. Ned Wilkins told 
 her he had been " doing well." The small brick 
 church had been filled every Sunday during the 
 summer, and the mid-week prayer-meetings had not 
 been neglected by the motley congregation he 
 gathered about him. Some day she would go to hear 
 him preach ; she would get Ned to take her. Ned 
 liked him, praised his sincerity, his enthusiasm, 
 believed in his ability to do a great work. 
 
140 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 But that was the other side of him, the priestly 
 side. It was as the troubadour that he appealed to 
 her. Was not that a mission, too? 
 
 " Along the silent ways there came 
 A troubadour, a troubadour. 
 As out of darkness shines a flame, 
 And in his hand no harp he bore." 
 
 She went on: 
 
 ^=^p^ 
 
 He sang of Joy 
 
 in 
 
 ver-flow, 
 
 
 He sang the Pain man -kind must know." 
 
 People needed to hear of these, to hear of them in 
 a way to stir the heart, to arouse them to sympathy 
 and action. She herself had been a different woman 
 since he sang to her. Life had been different, had 
 meant something, at last. Under the frivolity and 
 carelessness and preoccupation of those she met, she 
 had touched something, as he had touched something 
 in her, had found men and women eager with desire, 
 sore with disappointment, dulled by waiting too long 
 for what they craved. Surely this was a fine tiling 
 
A TROUBADOUR 141 
 
 to do, to make her sensitive and discerning, not only 
 towards herself, but towards others. Who was it that 
 said, " Let me sing the songs of the people and let 
 who will fight their battles " ? 
 
 "Along the silent ways there came 
 
 A troubadour, a troubadour, 
 As out of darkness shines a flame, 
 
 And in his hand no harp he bore. 
 He sang of Joy in overflow, 
 He sang the Pain mankind must know." 
 
 She played the final bars: 
 
 6 And they who lis - tened to that voice 
 
 With it did mourn, with it re - joice." 
 
 Over and over again she played the melody and 
 sang the words. 
 
 "What is that?" asked Miss Emmeline, rapping 
 at the door and entering at the same time, a fashion 
 of hers that did not please her sister. 
 
 " A little thing I picked up some time ago," 
 returned Katharine carelessly. " Do you like it? " 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " It is very sweet. Are you going to the 
 Mortons ?" 
 
 Katharine dashed into the Pizzicato Polka. 
 " Haven t decided," she called out of the uproar she 
 had invoked. 
 
 " It seems to me we ought to make the effort," 
 called Miss Emmeline above the noise. " There are 
 so few of us." 
 
 Katharine stopped playing and whirled around on 
 the stool. " I told Mr. Haverford to say to Mr. 
 Vaughan we were at home and would be glad to see 
 him at any time." 
 
 " You surely wouldn t stay at home on that 
 account ! " exclaimed the elder sister. 
 
 " Why not ? " demanded Katharine. 
 
 " He wouldn t ask or expect such a thing." 
 
 " He wouldn t need to," said Katharine mis 
 chievously. 
 
 " Kitty! I cannot understand how you ve come to 
 be so fascinated with that man you who have been 
 followed by perfect mobs all your life ! " 
 
 " Why do you think I m fascinated? " Katharine 
 demanded, with a laugh. 
 
 " You show it, in every way," exclaimed Miss 
 Emmeline. " That night he was here to dinner you 
 fairly hung on his words, and after he came and 
 stayed all the afternoon, you were as absent-minded 
 as you could be. I know Eugene Winslow feels it," 
 Miss Emmeline added, receiving no response. 
 
A TROUBADOUR 143 
 
 " What is it to Mr. Eugene Winslow if I like or 
 dislike anyone?" exploded Katharine. "He takes 
 too much for granted. Yes, I ll go with you, Em, if 
 you won t tease." 
 
 "What are you going to wear?" asked Miss 
 Emmeline, brightening, and continued, without wait 
 ing for an answer, " Would you wear my black lace 
 with the spangles if you were in my place, or do you 
 think the lavender-and-white peau de sole is more 
 becoming? " 
 
 " You look very well in either," said Katharine, 
 trying to appear interested. What if Mr. Vaughan 
 should come while she was away? She did not want 
 to leave a message. Still he might not come again 
 for weeks, and she wanted to see him she had a plan 
 for him. It is impossible for a woman of Katharine s 
 stamp to be interested in any man and not have a 
 plan for him. 
 
 Dressed for the afternoon, white from head to 
 foot, parasol to shoes, she came down the stairs to 
 the carriage. 
 
 Elsie followed her, rhapsodizing. " My mamma 
 is the most beautiful mamma in the world," she 
 chanted. " And she wears the most beautiful 
 clothes." 
 
 Katharine turned at the door. " I m a bit sus 
 picious about you to-day, young lady," she said, look 
 ing up and down the tiny figure. " You ve been so 
 sugary. Elsie, please be good while I m away." 
 
144 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 The mite tipped her saucy head and looked up 
 under her eyelashes with a glance at once demure 
 and tantalizing. 
 
 " Promise," said her mother, holding her at arm s 
 length. 
 
 Elsie pouted for a kiss. 
 
 " Promise," repeated Katharine. " I won t kiss 
 you till you do." 
 
 " How good, mamma ? " demanded the elf, stand 
 ing on one leg, like a contemplative stork. 
 
 " Do come, Kitty," called Mabel from the car 
 riage. " She ll be good, won t you, dear? "Mar- 
 guerite ll look after her." 
 
 " Will you promise not to turn on the water in 
 the bathroom, or " 
 
 " Do come, Kitty," urged Mabel. 
 
 Katharine gave her offspring a final shake and 
 squeeze, kissed her reproachfully and let her go. 
 
 " I know she s up to something," she ejaculated as 
 they drove away. " I can feel mischief all through 
 her, like electricity. I don t see how I came to have 
 such a child." 
 
 " You were just like her," said Miss Emmeline. 
 "Ask Arthur. You kept us on tenter-hooks until 
 you were sent away to school." 
 
 " Look back, Kitty, and wave your hand," cried 
 Mabel, as they reached the turn in the road. 
 
 The two children stood on the veranda, their arms 
 about each other s waists, a picture of youthful 
 
A TROUBADOUR 145 
 
 innocence and docility. The women in the carriage 
 waved their hands and blew kisses. The children 
 responded. Then the two small white figures were 
 lost to view. 
 
 " I m going to be very good until half -past five," 
 said Elsie as they went back into the house. It was 
 then five. 
 
 " What s going to happen then? " inquired 
 Marguerite. 
 
 " I don t know," replied Elsie, shaking her curls, 
 " Most anything. And they won t be home till eight 
 o clock." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 FAIRY FINGERS 
 
 MISS ELSIE S that contrary the day, I 
 dunno," said Nora Flynn to Mrs. Mat 
 thews, the cook. It was half-past six. 
 The children had had their supper and were playing 
 about the yard. " And Mary s sent up word by 
 Jerry that her little sister Ellen has come out from 
 home and she wants me to come down. Tis only one 
 sister she has, all the rest byes." 
 
 " Run along," said Mrs. Matthews kindly. " I ll 
 keep an eye on the young ones. Their mothers ll be 
 home by eight." 
 
 " Oh, I ll be back long before eight," said Nora, 
 and took the back way out of the house to escape 
 notice. 
 
 In this she failed ignominiously. Before she 
 reached the street, she heard Elsie call, " Where you 
 going, Nora? " 
 
 " On an errand," she called back. " I U not be 
 long." 
 
 " She s gone down to Mary s," pronounced Elsie, 
 " and she won t be back ; she never is. What let s 
 do?" 
 
 146 
 
FAIRY FINGERS 147 
 
 They had done very nearly everything, but Elsie s 
 fertile brain would undoubtedly have devised further 
 mischief had she not caught a glimpse of a tall, dark 
 figure entering the yard. 
 
 "There s C. V.!" she cried. "Come on!" and 
 flew down the path to meet him. 
 
 It was very pleasant, after days spent with saloon 
 keepers and saloon-patrons, miners and cowboys and 
 the D. P. L, to be met by two little girls with laugh 
 ing eyes and floating hair, to feel two small, soft 
 palms slide into his, to hear two childish voices pipe 
 of what had happened since he was last there. 
 
 Vaughan s Celtic ancestor stirred in him with joy 
 over these representatives of the Little People. He 
 gave himself up unreservedly into their hands. They 
 led him into the small sitting-room Katharine s sit 
 ting-room. They seated him on the couch and 
 climbed all over him. They took liberties with him, 
 rifled his pockets, played with his watch; and he 
 leaned his head back among the cushions and closed 
 his tired eyes, submitting utterly to the spell of 
 their fairy fingers and the bird-like twittering with 
 which they commented on what they found. 
 
 How long he slept he did not know. When he awoke 
 the room was dim with shadows, and far away the bell 
 of his church rang for the mid-week prayer-meeting, 
 quite forgotten until now. He sprang up hastily, 
 thrust the two children gently aside and ran. 
 
 The bell gave its last peremptory stroke as he 
 
148 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 reached the church. He entered without delay. One 
 quick glance about the room told him that it was 
 filled. 
 
 Everyone turned as he passed up the aisle on his 
 way to the platform, and an expression of surprise, 
 of amusement, appeared on every face. Some of the 
 young people present laughed outright. What could 
 be amiss? 
 
 He ran his fingers through his hair and brought 
 them out filled with bits of ribbon, through his beard 
 and found more. He touched his forehead; it 
 was set with curls plastered down upon it in a 
 row. 
 
 " It was the children," he said apologetically, as 
 he vigorously brushed away the web of the Little 
 People. " We will sing Hymn Forty-eight." 
 
 Ned Wilkins, who had slipped in for a few minutes 
 on his way home, described the scene to the Rich 
 mond Hill friends. " If he d set out to make himself 
 as ridiculous as possible, he couldn t have succeeded 
 any better," said Ned. " I wonder who the children 
 were!" 
 
 Katharine at once started for the small chamber, 
 opening out of her own, in which Elsie slept. Her 
 precocious daughter lay on her little white bed, fast 
 asleep in the moonlight, one round arm flung over 
 her head. It seemed cruel to awaken anyone, most of 
 all a child, from such profound and peaceful sleep, 
 but Katharine was inexorable. 
 
FAIRY FINGERS 149 
 
 " Elsie," she said, " wake up, and tell me who has 
 been here." 
 
 Elsie half opened her sleepy eyes, and immediately 
 closed them. 
 
 " C. V.," she murmured drowsily, and was appar 
 ently fast asleep once more. But her mother had no 
 mercy. 
 
 "What did you do to him?" she asked sternly. 
 " Answer me. You re not asleep. You needn t pre 
 tend you are." 
 
 " I m not pertending," whimpered the child. " And 
 it was Marguerite as much as me. We parted his 
 hair in the middle, and his beard, too. She had 
 half." 
 
 "What was he thinking of!" ejaculated 
 Katharine. 
 
 " He wasn t thinking at all, mamma," Elsie 
 replied. " He was asleep." 
 
 " You were a very naughty girl," said Katharine 
 severely ; " and mamma will have to punish you 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh, dear," Elsie set up a wail. " And now I ll 
 have to lie awake and worry. Can t you punish me 
 to-night?" 
 
 " No, I shall wait till to-morrow. You ought to 
 lie awake and remember what a naughty girl you ve 
 been." 
 
 Katharine left the room. An hour later, in dress 
 ing-gown and slippers, she reentered the chamber. 
 
150 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Calm, even breathing from the little white bed told 
 how brief had been the culprit s vigil. 
 
 " I ll write a note to him to-morrow morning and 
 apologize," she said to herself. " And I ll ask him 
 to call in the afternoon and see me on a matter of 
 business." 
 
 So occupied was she in phrasing the note, the fol 
 lowing morning, that Elsie s punishment was delayed 
 and finally forgotten. Vaughan came promptly and 
 laughed away the whole affair as soon as it was men 
 tioned to him. Katharine herself was impatient to 
 reveal her plan. 
 
 " I ve been thinking," she said, when they had 
 decided to remit Elsie s punishment, " that you might 
 lecture." 
 
 " I ve thought of that," he said, " and even gone 
 so far as to make out a list of subjects." 
 
 "What, for instance?" 
 
 "Well, I d take for one subject An Old English 
 Home. I made a study of a place in the town where 
 I was born and the nobleman who owned it sent the 
 paper I wrote to the Royal Historical Society. They 
 made me a member." 
 
 "Are you an F. R. H. S.?" she queried. "Oh, 
 you must put that in." 
 
 " And F. R. A. S., F. R. M. S., F. G. S., and M. 
 V. I.," he added, with youthful complacency. 
 
 " Put them all in ! " she exclaimed, with enthusiasm. 
 " Have cards printed, giving a list of your subjects 
 
FAIRY FINGERS 151 
 
 and saying, by the Reverend Clement Vaughan, F. 
 R. H. S., F. R. A. S., what were the others?" 
 
 He told her. 
 
 " That is the way to succeed in this part of the 
 world," she said sagely. " Or indeed anywhere. Just 
 dazzle them ! " 
 
 She brought pencil and paper and insisted upon 
 writing out a form for him to use. " Now don t 
 leave out a single title," she commanded. " If you 
 think of any more, put them in. Have your cards 
 printed immediately and send me a hundred. I ll see 
 that they go to the right people who are not too far 
 away. Don t you see," she spoke like an elder sister, 
 or a mother, or a maiden aunt. " This work will help 
 the other. You can enlarge your sphere and interest 
 people of wealth and influence in your mission, at 
 the same time you bring new life and vigor to your 
 work here by not being tied down to it too closely. 
 You can * make both hands wash, as Jerry says." 
 
 He left her, full of enthusiasm and hope. It was 
 hard to be confined to the people making up the body 
 of his congregation. It would be a help to get away 
 once in a while. And he needed the money. 
 
 The very next day he took the form to the Eureka 
 printing office and had a number of cards struck off. 
 He sent some to Katharine, who mailed them without 
 delay, many of them accompanied by a personal note. 
 Others he mailed himself, or left in the stores and 
 saloons, or handed to his friends and acquaintances. 
 
152 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 The town suddenly seemed to be full of the Reverend 
 Clement Vaughan, F. R. H. S., F. R. A. S., F. R. 
 M. S., F. G. S., M. V. I. 
 
 Such zeal could not in the nature of things g<* 
 unrewarded. Within a short time it bore fruit in 
 strange and unexpected ways. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE S. L. C., that is to say, the Sazerac 
 Lying Club, like the D. P. I., held a special 
 meeting to consider the Reverend Clement 
 Vaughan. As Barker had foreseen, this was sure to 
 happen, sooner or later. 
 
 Not as keen on the scent of the objects of their 
 satire as the indefatigable secretary of the D. P. L, 
 and with reason, for a man is always more ready to 
 confess himself a liar than a fool, its officers never 
 theless kept a sharp lookout, and the new lecturer s 
 cardful of titles did not escape them. 
 
 Poole, who was chairman of the advisory board, 
 formally presented the name of the young Methodist 
 as candidate for the next leather medal, given to the 
 Champion Liar by the club. The last to be honored 
 in this manner had been a young man by the name 
 of Freyne, who had claimed to be the son of an Irish 
 baron. The S. L. C. had looked him up before 
 ordering the medal. Some of the members were in 
 favor of giving Vaughan likewise " the benefit of 
 the doubt." But Poole was hot against him. " He 
 ought to be hauled in before he goes any farther," 
 was Poole s verdict. " Look at the way he s carrying 
 
 153 
 
154 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 sail! Lectured at Palisade last night; to-night he s 
 going to be in Winnamucca." 
 
 " He s quite a High Tippy Bob Royal, I tell you" 
 said Shed Wellman. Shed had been admitted to the 
 society on the strength of his cattle yarns. Poole 
 was what was known as a " tall " liar. Barker was 
 the best " all- round liar " in the club, but there were 
 others who merited distinction. Their prominence 
 varied according to their ability. Only the best liars 
 told where the medal should go, on the principle " Set 
 a thief to catch a thief." 
 
 " My wife says," continued Shed, who was con 
 tinually quoting this authority, " that there ain t 
 been such a public speaker in these parts since she 
 can remember, and she don t know as ever." 
 
 " She s been caught by his titles," replied Poole. 
 
 Barker was for writing to the various Royal 
 Societies, requesting information regarding " the 
 said Clement Vaughan." Barker s ventures in 
 foreign correspondence had always brought him 
 large returns. He would like to confront Vaughan 
 with testimony thus obtained. " I d like to see what 
 he d do," said Barker. 
 
 Ned Wilkins, arriving opportunely, moved that 
 Barker be empowered to write such letters. The 
 motion was carried. But Poole was for immediate 
 action. " He s played us for a lot of suckers," 
 repeated Poole. " To be played for a sucker " was 
 what no man in Eureka would endure, least of all 
 
"THE RABBIT HIT 155 
 
 Poole. He was extremely sensitive when his intelli 
 gence was impugned. 
 
 " It don t stand to reason that a feller twenty- 
 three-four years old can be a member of so many big 
 societies," said Poole. " He s lied ; he s lied big ; the 
 biggest that ever was. If we don t do as we ve set 
 out, we might as well disband." 
 
 Still, the meeting continued irresolute. The ques 
 tion of the medal would doubtless have been laid on 
 the table had not Winslow, at that moment, happened 
 in. He had of course heard of the lecturer s success 
 and of Mrs. Chisholm s share in it, and he smiled when 
 he heard of the club s project. 
 
 " But now" said Poole, " these fellers want to let 
 the thing lie over, till Barker s written to England 
 and got an answer back." 
 
 " Quite right," returned Winslow. " It would be 
 a pity to disturb the man now. By the time Barker 
 has received an answer to his letters the lecture season 
 will be over." 
 
 Poole uttered an impatient ejaculation. "That s 
 just the way this club always acts," he said discon 
 tentedly. " Wait till a thing is cold, and then what 
 good is it? " 
 
 He gave Pilcher a kick under the table. This 
 meant, " Say something, won t you? Why do you 
 make me do all the talking? " 
 
 " A thing like this wants to be done right off," 
 said Pilcher tamely. 
 
156 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 A crowd of young men came noisily in, demanding 
 " what was up? " To these the project appealed with 
 peculiar force. They rallied to Poole s support and 
 voted, with speed and zeal, to " put it through." 
 They voted " that a medal of significant design and 
 properly inscribed should be presented to the Reve 
 rend Clement Vaughan." Considerable argument 
 ensued as to what was a significant design and how 
 the inscription should read, but these matters were 
 referred to a committee consisting of Barker, Poole 
 and a man named Jones. 
 
 Where was Barker, anyway? Gone home to write 
 his letters, someone answered. 
 
 " Let him go," said Poole. " I move that Shed 
 presents the medal." 
 
 " Say, look-a-here, I kick ! " exclaimed Shed. 
 " The Parson s a friend of mine. My family go to 
 his church. I won t mix up in any such business ! " 
 
 Poole was proposed as a substitute. 
 
 " He ll rub it in," mused Shed. " I d let the Par 
 son down easy." 
 
 Aloud he added, " Well, I ll do it, provided that 
 you put me on the other committee. I want to see 
 your blamed old medal before I deliver it." 
 
 The proposition was accepted. Everyone was 
 tired of the discussion and impatient for the informal 
 hour which followed the routine business, the hour 
 when all the members smoked while one told a story. 
 He it was who " set up the drinks," thereby insuring 
 
"THE RABBIT HIT 157 
 
 the appreciative atmosphere so necessary to the 
 raconteur. 
 
 It was Shed Wellman s turn that night. When 
 the rest of the company were established, with their 
 glasses and their pipes, he began, a little hurriedly 
 for a man at ease with himself and them. 
 
 " Boys, I m goin to tell you a true story, and I ll 
 bet you ll say when I get through it s as good as 
 a lie." 
 
 "Don t you fool yourself!" 
 
 " Not by a damn sight ! " 
 
 " O-oh ! " 
 
 " Wait till I get through before you holler," Shed 
 went on. " You ll think it s a lie anyway." 
 
 This sounded more promising. A purr of appro 
 bation ran through the company. " Git at it ! " they 
 cried. 
 
 " You know Dick," pursued the story-teller. 
 
 "Cussin Dick?" they queried. 
 
 " Yes. The story s about him." 
 
 " He s the feller that got doped," said one. 
 
 " No, married," said another. 
 
 " They re both the same thing," said a third. 
 
 " Go on, Shed," called the rest. 
 
 " He s been actin as foreman on my ranch, as some 
 of you know. You keep still till I get through! 
 And ever since he come there my wife wouldn t go 
 near the ranch for fear she d overhear some of his 
 remarks. Best man I ever see to ride, round up or 
 
158 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 throw a rope ! Did it all with cuss words. If any of 
 you ever see him " Shed paused. 
 
 " We ve seen him," said one. 
 
 66 Heard him," corrected another. 
 
 " Well, after he got through marry in and unmar- 
 ryin , he got religion." 
 
 " Dick! Religion? " shouted half a dozen. 
 
 " I m givin it to you straight," Shed declared. 
 " You go over to the Methodist church Sundays, 
 you ll see him regular as the day comes round. Well, 
 last week I was ridin along, and off in the middle of 
 a pasture I see Dick sittin his bronc, sayin nothin . 
 Once in a while he d give the critter a clip or a dig 
 with a spur, and up would go the bronc s heels. 
 That s as far as they d got. 
 
 " Hullo, Dick, says I, * What s the trouble ? 
 He kinder laughed the way he does, a-humpin his 
 shoulders. Parson s cut off my swear / says he, 
 an I ain t worth a h m to make this h m 
 h m go ! says he. * We ve got to get acquainted 
 all over, says he. The bronc thinks I don t mean 
 a h m word I say. Well, sir, that afternoon he went 
 in to see the Parson and back he come ! 
 
 " You parallelipipedon ! he yells. * You isosceles 
 triangle ! and that bronc lit out like the devil was 
 after him ! What s that mean, Dick ? says I. * Do 
 you know ? Keep still, says he, * I don t know, 
 but neither does the bronc. He thinks I m cussin . 
 Parson got the words out of the dictionary. There 
 
"THE RABBIT HIT 159 
 
 was a lot more, but I can t remember em alL 
 Hy-potty-noose was one of em ! " 
 
 The story-teller paused for recognition. Ned 
 Wilkins laughed appreciatively. Those who had con 
 fidence in Ned s ability to see the point laughed 
 with him. 
 
 Winslow smiled indulgently. Those to whom he 
 was an oracle measured their response by his. 
 
 " I don t suppose it makes any difference what 
 words you use if your intentions are good," said 
 Barker, who had posted his letters and returned. 
 
 This led to a discussion as to what expletives were 
 inevitably " cuss words," what were the several grades 
 and degrees of blasphemous expression, when swear 
 ing was commendable, when superfluous, what it 
 implied on the part of the swearer, wherein and how 
 far it should be resented by the one sworn at. After 
 wards they disbanded, promising to meet at Poole 
 and Pilcher s the next day, and select a design for 
 the medal. 
 
 It was grotesque enough to satisfy the most exact 
 ing, big as a soup plate, and inscribed: 
 
 " To the Reverend Clement Vaughan, F. R. H. S., 
 F. R. A. S., F. R. M. S., F. G. S., M. V. I. 
 
 Champion Liar. 
 From the Sazerac Lying Club." 
 
 Poole and Jones laughed themselves sick over it. 
 
160 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Shed looked glum. " It s the sort of thing that s 
 dreadful funny on the other feller," he said, as 
 he shouldered the box and started for the Parson s 
 study. 
 
 There was no one there. The door stood ajar, as if 
 to let in some of the faint autumnal sunshine, in lieu 
 of other heat. Vaughan was saving his fuel for the 
 extreme weather promised later. For the Sunday 
 services and the mid-week meeting he kindled a fire 
 in one of the big black stoves near the door. But 
 the corner where it stood was discouragingly remote. 
 The study partook but little of its beneficent glow; 
 the bedroom, still farther away, was beyond hope. 
 From the Paiutis who had encamped on the hill behind 
 the church he obtained a pair of heavy blankets for 
 his bed and did not suffer at night. During the day, 
 when he studied and wrote, he broke away from his 
 desk every now and then, to walk up and down and 
 swing his arms. 
 
 Shed slowly whirled himself around in the office- 
 chair and made inward comments : 
 
 "Colder n charity!" 
 
 " Darker n the grave ! " 
 
 " Not a damn picture in the place ! " 
 
 Shed s big, handsome house was full of pictures, 
 warm as summer, and there were plants in the windows 
 and a canary. 
 
 " It beats Hannah Cook ! " 
 
 This was the final word with Shed. When a 
 
"THE RABBIT HIT 161 
 
 thing beat Hannah Cook there was no more to be 
 said. 
 
 " By gum, I ll take the darned thing back," he said 
 to himself, "and tell the boys I won t do it. But 
 Poole would jump at the chance, and I believe Wins- 
 low would. Hullo, there he comes ! " 
 
 Vaughan entered eagerly. He was full of con 
 fidence, these days. Wherever he had lectured people 
 had been kind to him. The attendance had been good 
 at the church services and there had been sociables, 
 not yielding concessions to those who desired to drink 
 and dance, but offering attractions of their own. 
 Jack had made lemonade, without a " stick," a barrel- 
 ful each time, and had offered it as his donation; 
 and there had been songs and games. 
 
 Every day the young preacher felt that he drew 
 nearer to his followers and that they drew nearer to 
 him. He did not know it was cold and dark in 
 the study. Nor did he hold the absence of ornament 
 a lack, as did his visitor. The austerity of his sur 
 roundings, if he had considered it, would have struck 
 him as much more desirable than the equipment of the 
 ranchman s gaudy home on Richmond Hill. It was 
 with no discrimination against his own poverty in 
 comparison with the other s wealth, but quite the 
 reverse that he welcomed the cattle magnate. He 
 inquired for Mrs. Wellman and for Tom and the 
 little Maud, talked of church matters, of the affairs 
 of the town and looked at the box. 
 
162 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Some of the boys of the S. L. C.," Shed began, 
 nervously untying his bundle, " thought twould be 
 a good joke to send you this on on account of 
 your titles, you know. They thought you were tryin 
 to fool em. They took it as a kind of a stump." 
 
 Shed perspired freely and grew very red. With 
 the most incongruous solemnity he handed over 
 the medal. With corresponding gravity Vaughan 
 received it. There was an ominous pause. 
 
 Finally Vaughan laid the thing on his desk. 
 
 "You know it s considered a great compliment 
 round here to be called a good liar." Shed tried to 
 speak lightly. 
 
 " Indeed? " returned the Parson, with a lift of the 
 eyebrow. " They d better make sure first that I d 
 lied. Why didn t they write to England and ascer 
 tain whether I had a right to these titles ? " 
 
 " They have. At least Barker was going to," 
 Shed made haste to rejoin. " But they couldn t wait." 
 
 " I see," said Vaughan, again taking up the medal 
 and putting it back into the box. "I ll defer my 
 acknowledgments until they ve heard." 
 
 " And so I come away feeling like a blam-jam 
 idiot ! " Shed declared to Pilcher, whom he found alone 
 in the store a few minutes later. " Where s Poole ? " 
 
 " Gone out." 
 
 " Well, you tell him when he comes in, with my 
 compliments, that he s made an ass of himself," a 
 message promptly delivered by Pilcher. 
 
"THE RABBIT HIT" 163 
 
 " Oh, he did say I was an ass, did he!" rejoined 
 Poole. 
 
 " Now don t get mad," said Pilcher. 
 
 " I am mad," said Poole, and he grew madder, not 
 with Shed, singularly enough, but with the Parson. 
 
 " I ve wanted to smash his face ever since he come 
 to Eureka," he confessed to Pilcher; and Pilcher 
 looked, as he felt, sympathetic. He, too, was unpre 
 pared, by temperament and education, to resist an 
 impulse of this kind. 
 
 When Vaughan passed the store on his way to 
 the post-office, as was his custom, late that afternoon, 
 Pilcher was on the steps and accosted him. " Why 
 don t you call in, some time when you re goin by?" 
 he inquired affably. 
 
 " I will," replied Vaughan, who always met friendly 
 advances at least halfway. 
 
 " You might stop when you come back," suggested 
 Pilcher. 
 
 "If it s not too late I will," promised Vaughan. 
 When he returned he found Pilcher still on the steps, 
 and together they entered the store. 
 
 Poole was leaning over the counter. " Been takin 
 a little exercise, Pilcher and me," he vouchsafed. 
 " This sort o weather you wanter keep your blood 
 circulatin ." 
 
 " Very true," agreed the visitor. " What were you 
 doing? I d like some exercise myself." 
 
 " Sparring," replied Poole nonchalantly. " Ever 
 
164 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 had on the gloves ? " He led the way to the inner 
 room. It was larger than the store and empty, save 
 for some rough settees pushed back against the board 
 walls. There were two windows in the rear, but they 
 gave very little light. Another building, a store 
 house, had been erected within three feet of Poole 
 and Pilcher s since their occupancy of the place. 
 Already, in the early October dusk, the room required 
 the light of two great kerosene lamps set into brackets 
 on the wall. 
 
 He closed the glass door and the transom-window 
 beside it. Two pairs of boxing-gloves lay on one 
 of the settees. Poole picked them up and handed one 
 pair to Vaughan, who fingered them irresolutely. 
 
 "I suppose my people would object," he said, 
 hesitating ; but he slipped on first one glove, then the 
 other. Poole was already equipped. He tapped 
 the Parson on the chest. Involuntarily Vaughan 
 responded. 
 
 Pilcher drew aside. Outside, in the store, a boy, 
 who had come on an errand, caught sight of the two 
 shadows bobbing up and down on the transom and 
 cautiously reopened it. Another boy joined him, then 
 a man. Although facing them, Vaughan did not see 
 them ; he saw only his antagonist. 
 
 More and more active grew Poole, more and more 
 severe his blows, following one another in rapid suc 
 cession. They descended with malicious force on the 
 head and shoulders of the young Methodist. He was 
 
"THE RABBIT HIT 165 
 
 driven into one corner and then the other, pounded 
 to and fro. He leaped wildly about, conscious, now, 
 of the lookers-on and of the ludicrous spectacle he 
 afforded them. The boys hanging over the transom 
 howled with delight. The man who had joined them 
 guffawed. Other men rushed in. They climbed on 
 chairs, elbowing one another. The transom was filled 
 with their gaping, grinning faces. They shouted 
 approval, encouragement, derision. Vaughan s heart 
 swelled. Anger rose like steam in him. With it 
 returned the memory of Frank Henley s instructions. 
 Up went his gloved hands, pawing the air. Poole 
 backed and parried and backed again, until he reached 
 the glass door. On came the Methodist, like a whirl 
 wind, his eyes blazing, his lips tense. All at once 
 his fist shot out, catching Poole under the chin. Heels 
 over head went the storekeeper, crashing through the 
 window in the door. 
 
 Shouts of appreciation issued from the group of 
 men and boys in the store. They jumped down from 
 the transom and surrounded the prostrate Poole. 
 " Good one !" they cried. " Hi, yi, yi !" 
 
 Vaughan pulled off his gloves and assisted his 
 adversary to his feet. The blood was streaming down 
 Poole s face where he had been cut by the broken 
 glass. " Bring a basin of water and a clean cloth," 
 Vaughan directed. "There s one cut which will need 
 a few stitches," he said to Poole ; " I ll sew it up, 
 unless you d rather send for Addison." 
 
166 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Addison s full," reported one of the bystanders. 
 
 Poole winked away the blood which trickled into 
 his eye. Pilcher by this time had brought the water. 
 Vaughan gently sponged the hurt. " Yes, it will 
 take three or four stitches," he said after examining 
 the wound. 
 
 " Go ahead," said Poole grimly. 
 
 Vaughan took from his pocket a small surgeon s 
 case and immediately went to work. The crowd looked 
 on, well pleased. 
 
 " He s sure markin ye, Poole," said one. 
 
 " The Reverend Clement Vaughan," said another. 
 
 "F. R. H. S., F. R. A. S.," supplemented a 
 third. 
 
 "F. S. P. Feller what Smashed Poole." 
 
 Poole did not flinch under the needle or the wit. 
 The surgeon continued, sewed up the cut, applied 
 strips of plaster and stood back to admire his work. 
 
 "I don t believe Addison himself could have done 
 any better than that ! " he said complacently. 
 
 " The show s over," concluded the bystanders and 
 moved away. 
 
 " What s the tax, Parson? " inquired Poole faintly. 
 
 Vaughan slipped his case back into his pocket 
 before answering. " I owed you that," he said briefly, 
 " for putting you through the door." 
 
 " Owed me nothing ! " exclaimed Poole. " See here, 
 Parson," he swallowed hard, " I may as well tell you. 
 That was a put-up job. I meant to smash you." 
 
"THE RABBIT HIT 167 
 
 " Then we re quits," replied the Parson, coloring, 
 " for I meant to smash you." 
 
 Poole thrust out his hand. The Parson grasped it. 
 
 Pilcher stared. But even when he was alone with 
 his partner he made no allusion to the occurrences 
 of that afternoon. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE HUMBLING OF MARTIN YOUNG 
 
 MARTIN YOUNG was out of sorts. The 
 Henleys saw that plainly when he passed the 
 house, with a drove of cattle, on his way to 
 Eureka. He was on horseback and so were the two 
 men with him. They lifted their sombreros as they 
 passed, but Martin glanced neither to the right hand 
 nor the left. 
 
 " He s been like a bear with a sore head ever since 
 matters were settled between Minnie and Will," said 
 Frank. 
 
 " I should have liked to send some message to 
 Clement," sighed Mary. 
 
 " You d better not mention Clement s name to him," 
 said Frank. " He thinks Clement was at the bottom 
 of his trouble with Minnie." 
 
 " How could he be? " cried Mary indignantly. 
 
 " Oh, she asked his advice or something of the sort. 
 Minnie s a nice girl, but she s a fool," said Frank. 
 
 The cattle ran lowing down the hills. The splendid 
 October air was in their nostrils. A thin crisp of 
 snow was under their feet. Martin, being in haste 
 to get them down to Eureka before more snow should 
 
 168 
 
THE HUMBLING OF MARTIN YOUNG 169 
 
 come to block the way, took advantage of their high 
 spirits and fine physical condition, and by noon had 
 reached the field outside the town where Shed Well- 
 man was to meet him. 
 
 " I suppose you ll stay over Sunday? " said Shed, 
 when their business had been concluded. 
 
 " I d calc lated to," returned Young. 
 
 " Better drop in and hear our new minister," sug 
 gested Shed. " By the way, he s a friend of yours, 
 ain t he? He told me he knew you got a horse 
 from you up at Galena." 
 
 Martin grunted. 
 
 "Mighty smart young feller!" commented Shed. 
 " Awfully popular around here. Goes in for every 
 thing, has fine sociables Jack makes the lemonade 
 for em a barrelful every time." 
 
 " There d have to be a barrelful if Jack made 
 it." Martin grinned for the first time. 
 
 " He don t put anything in," Shed made haste 
 to add. 
 
 " Don t he? " cried Martin. " Wanter bet? " 
 
 " I know he don t," insisted Shed. " I guess I ve 
 drunk enough of it. See here," he turned before 
 mounting his horse. " You don t wanter circulate 
 any gossip of that sort round here. It might make 
 trouble." He swung himself into the saddle and rode 
 away. There was an evil look in Martin s small, red 
 dish-brown eyes as he, too, mounted and rode after 
 Shed. 
 
170 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 He went straight to the Widow McClintock s 
 boarding-house and the very first thing he said to the 
 tableful of boarders was, " I hear Jack Perry s 
 makin the lemonade for the Methodist sociables and 
 that s why," with a grimace, " they draw such a 
 crowd." 
 
 " He don t put in any budge, " said an honest- 
 faced young miner. " Parson wouldn t allow it." 
 
 " Don t be too sure o that ! " cried the Widow, with 
 a toss of her head. 
 
 " The Parson ain t so all-fired different from other 
 folks," she declared, with acidity. She had not for 
 given Vaughan for his sympathy with the attempt 
 to pull Dick out of the McClintock trap. 
 
 " That s just as sure s you live," declared Martin 
 Young. " You wanter look out for these fellers that 
 don t smoke, nor chew, nor drink, nor swear, nor 
 shave " 
 
 " He can fight," broke in the honest-faced miner. 
 " He give Poole the knock-out t other day. Didn t 
 he, Jim?" He appealed to a comrade who sat 
 near him. 
 
 " That s what he did, Jo," said Jim. " We seen 
 him." 
 
 Then Martin had to hear the whole story. Every 
 where he went he heard it. Everywhere he went they 
 spoke of the Parson approvingly, admiringly, even. 
 
 Martin sickened. " If you knew him as well s I 
 do," he exclaimed. 
 
THE HUMBLING OF MARTIN YOUNG 171 
 
 " What do you know ? " they asked him. 
 
 He could only bluster in generalities. If he told 
 them about Black Birdie, they would say the Parson 
 was smarter that he was. If he told them about 
 Minnie Hollaway, they would say a fellow deserved 
 to lose his girl if he couldn t hold her. 
 
 " You wait ; you ll see, one of these days," he 
 replied significant!}^ and again repeated, "I hear 
 Jack s makin lemonade for the Parson s sociables, 
 and that s why so many go." 
 
 By Sunday afternoon the talk had drifted around 
 to Jack. " If Mart Young comes in while I m gone, 
 you hang onto him," he said to Pere Hyacinthe. 
 " I ve got somethin to say to him. I m goin to 
 meetin now." Jack rarely missed a Sunday night 
 service. 
 
 " I will," said Pere Hyacinthe. He was arrang 
 ing the tumblers in pyramids on the shelf behind 
 the bar. 
 
 Not long after Jack went out Martin appeared. 
 He had found three miners who expressed their will 
 ingness to " set in to a game." 
 
 The four clumped noisily in and entered one of the 
 small rooms, throwing their hats on the floor. A 
 pack of cards lay on the table. Martin took them 
 up and shuffled them, calling loudly for Pere Hya 
 cinthe to "bring on the moisture." 
 
 Martin had already had enough, the bartender 
 decided. He loitered, hoping Martin would forget 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 his order. One of the miners, a tall, good-looking 
 fellow, very trim in his Sunday togs, arose suddenly 
 and flung down his cards. " It s on me again," he 
 said, with a conscious laugh. " I didn t think I d 
 get stuck again so soon." 
 
 " What s the row ? " demanded Martin, picking up 
 the hand and running it over. " Oh that ? " Inef 
 fable contempt was expressed in his voice and in his 
 manner as he threw across the room the card which 
 had interrupted the game. It was backed like the 
 others, but on its face it bore an invitation to attend 
 the services at the Methodist church that evening. 
 " Come, set down," he said to the miner ; " what in 
 hell s that card to do with our game ? " 
 
 " Why, it s this way, pard," said one of the others 
 mildly, an old man ; " it s kind of an understood thing 
 amongst some of us, if the Parson can put one o them 
 cards o hisn inter the pack an we not notice, that 
 fellow s got to go to meetin . See? I guess s long s 
 the party s broke up I ll go along with you." He, 
 too, arose. 
 
 Martin swore furiously. Of all the blasphemed 
 places that he ever got into, this was the most wickedly 
 and shockingly vituperated. He walked angrily out 
 to the bar, demanding his drink. When he returned, 
 the room was empty. The third miner had crept out 
 and followed the other two. 
 
 He was not left long alone. A company of cow 
 boys entered, riotously, and filled the saloon. To them 
 
THE HUMBLING OF MARTIN YOUNG 173 
 
 Martin, now beyond reserve or caution, rehearsed 
 his woes, beginning with the loss of his girl and end 
 ing with the loss of his game, blaming the Parson for 
 all. The cowboys drew him on, asked questions, 
 offered sympathy, suggested means of redress, shout 
 ing to Pere Hyacinthe every now and then that 
 " Twas time to f ll-up." Several of them flourished 
 the flasks they already had in their pockets. The 
 bartender kept out of their way and watched for 
 Jack. It was long past the usual time for him to 
 return. 
 
 There had been a special meeting of the Ways 
 and Means Committee, which consisted of the Parson 
 and Jack and whoever else Jack could, as he termed 
 it, "haul in." To-night it happened to be Shed 
 Wellman upon whom he fastened. After conferring 
 with the Parson for a while, the other two men walked 
 away together, and renewed, with more freedom, their 
 discussion. 
 
 " What I like about him," said Jack, in his cus 
 tomary drawl, " is that he don t make a poor 
 mouth. 5 " 
 
 " That s what ! " cried Shed, his short, snappy 
 manner offering an amusing contrast to Jack s delib 
 eration. " I ve always said there was three kinds of 
 poor, the Lord s poor, the Devil s poor, and poor 
 devils, and most generally parsons come under the 
 last head ; but he don t." 
 
 " Not much ! " said Jack, with a chuckle. " When 
 
174 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 he goes broke, he acts as if there was nothin too 
 good for him." 
 
 " Sure ! " declared Shed. " He s a regular High 
 Tippy Bob Royal ! That s what I told Mart Young 
 yesterday. But Mart can t see any good in him, for 
 some reason or other." 
 
 " I may have to deal with Mart," said Jack 
 slowly. 
 
 They had neared the saloon. Sounds of the horse 
 play within floated out to them. Jack quickened his 
 pace. As they mounted the steps they heard Martin 
 Young, quite beyond restraint now, complaining bit 
 terly, while his noisy companions applauded every 
 word. 
 
 With one stride Jack was in their midst. It was 
 good to see his great shoulders heave and to catch 
 the gleam in his steel-gray eyes. The talk and laugh 
 ter ceased. Even Martin was silent for a moment, 
 then he began again, " Nothin but prayer-meetin s. 
 
 Jack ain t the same since he made lemonade " 
 
 He stopped, his jaw fell, before the look in the saloon 
 keeper s eyes. 
 
 " Go on ! " said Jack. 
 
 " W-w-w-with a a stick in it," stammered Martin. 
 
 "Goon!" said Jack. 
 
 " F-f or the the Parson s sociables ! I I was 
 only f oolin , Jack. Honest, I was only f oolin ! 
 Don t shoot, for God s sake, don t shoot ! " 
 
 " Get down on your knees," thundered Jack, with 
 
THE HUMBLING OF MARTIN YOUNG 175 
 
 his revolver at Martin s head, " and say, I m a 
 damn liar ! " 
 
 Martin stumbled to his knees. " I m a damn liar ! " 
 he mumbled. 
 
 " Stay where you are! " commanded Jack. " And 
 crawl to the Parson s study and when you get there 
 lick his boot and say again, * I m a damn liar. 9 Go 
 on, now! Crawl! " 
 
 There was deathly silence in the room. Martin 
 looked up, saw death in the shining barrel before him, 
 death in the pitiless gray eyes that met his own, and 
 he crawled, across the floor, down the steps, into the 
 street. 
 
 His late comrades pressed to the door and stood 
 staring after him. Over at Jackson s, the loiterers 
 on the corner stared, amazed. What was this thing 
 that slowly, painfully, came out and down and up 
 the street? A misshapen quadruped? A monstrous 
 worm? It could not be a man! 
 
 They crossed the street. Others came, from saloon 
 and dance-house and alley, to stare and question. 
 What was it? A man? What was he doing? Why 
 did he do it? They saw the revolver, and Jack, and 
 drew back. On and on Martin crawled, up the hill, 
 painfully, his hands cut by the frozen ground, his 
 head heavy, his heart faint ; and behind him, with 
 the revolver Jack. So they came to the church, to 
 the door of the study. Martin paused. 
 
 " Go on," called Jack s voice. He went on. 
 
176 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Vaughan was reading by his desk, under the lamp. 
 Absorbed in his book, he heard nothing. Slowly the 
 door was pushed open. A rough, red-brown head 
 appeared and approached him, hanging down. Two 
 hands, crimsoned and bleeding, struck out over the 
 floor. The creature crawled to him, put out a big 
 swollen tongue, licked his boot, mumbled, " I m a 
 damn liar," then sprang up and fled. 
 
 A long, sinewy arm reached out, on the threshold, 
 caught him, shook him, and hurled him into the night. 
 Vaughan saw for an instant Jack s face, then it, too, 
 disappeared. He had seen the other, in that brief, 
 dreadful moment, the small, blood-shot eyes, the thick, 
 matted beard ; and had known it for Martin Young s. 
 And never, in all his life, though he live to be an old, 
 old man, would he see on a human face such a look 
 ^f unutterable hatred as he saw on that face then. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A CRUSADE FOE TEMPEEANCE 
 
 IT became known, throughout Eureka and the 
 ranches around, at Galena and Lewis and 
 Ruby Hill, that anyone who meddled with 
 the Parson would sooner or later have to settle with 
 Jack. Martin Young s experience had told to what 
 lengths Jack would go in administering what he called 
 justice. The affair of Tim Noonan showed that he 
 also meant to keep order. 
 
 Tim came into one of the Wednesday night prayer- 
 meetings the worse for liquor and flung himself down 
 in the corner by the stove. The heat and the sing 
 ing of the hymns sent him off to sleep at first, but 
 he awoke, confused and quarrelsome, when the Parson 
 began his address. 
 
 "I say," he shouted, " tha ain t so. Nobuddy 
 b lieves tha now." 
 
 Vaughan had encouraged interruption, when it 
 betokened a desire to get at the truth, or a difference 
 of opinion. But interruption of this sort was not to 
 be tolerated. He stopped preaching and looked at 
 Tim. 
 
 " Be silent," he said sternly, " or out you go ! " 
 
 177 
 
178 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 "Ain t goin to be silent," returned Tim. "Preachin 
 lies. Tain t so." 
 
 Down from the platform stepped the preacher and 
 took Tim by the collar. " You must go out," he said 
 firmly. 
 
 " Want any help, Parson ? " inquired half a dozen. 
 
 " I think not," was the reply. Tim demurred, 
 tried to argue, pulled this way and that, but went, 
 and the services continued. 
 
 A few evenings afterwards, a sober, penitent Tim 
 entered the Parson s study and laid on the desk one 
 of the long leather whips used by the mule-drivers, 
 known as a " black snake." Without a word he began 
 to pull off his coat. 
 
 " What are you doing? " asked Vaughan, in sur 
 prise. 
 
 " Jack Perry told me to come down here and peel 
 to the buff," said Tim, " and let you lay on till 
 the blood come, cause I done what I did t other 
 night." 
 
 " You didn t know what you were doing," replied 
 the Parson, touched by Jack s loyalty and by Tim s 
 submission. "Tell Jack you ve apologized and it s 
 all right." 
 
 " I hain t, though," said Tim. 
 
 " Yes, you have, when you laid that whip on my 
 desk, I d like to keep the whip." Vaughan had not 
 outgrown a boyish fondness for souvenirs. They 
 shook hands and parted. 
 
A CRUSADE FOR TEMPERANCE 179 
 
 This story, too, went abroad and traveled as far as 
 Winnemucca. Not precisely the divinity that hedges 
 a king, but the atmosphere which may surround an 
 obscure Methodist parson when he is squired by such 
 an one as Jack, surrounded Vaughan. Penrose gave 
 him half a column in the Eureka Sentinel every Mon 
 day. His lectures were reported in full. All his 
 movements were chronicled. Katharine clipped every 
 notice and burned the papers. 
 
 " But I do wish he was a Churchman," she sighed, 
 and laid traps for him, with little books entitled, 
 " Why I am an Episcopalian," and " The Apostolic 
 Succession," books which Clement meant to read but 
 somehow never found the time. He was very busy, 
 organizing guilds among the young people a man s 
 club, a woman s sewing society and flying off to 
 lecture whenever and wherever anybody would have 
 him. 
 
 In the midst of it all he had a call from Ricker, the 
 Cornish preacher at Ruby Hill. 
 
 " Brother Vaughan," said Ricker, " I have had it 
 borne in upon me that ye ll have to preach temperance 
 for a while, until this besotted land awakes to the error 
 of her ways." 
 
 " Why, I ve been preaching temperance ever since 
 I came here," returned Vaughan. 
 
 " Aw know," replied Ricker, " but ye ll have to get 
 out and shout for it, and mek em hear. Tain t the 
 preachin from your own doorstep, where they order 
 
180 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 what they please and take what they like, that works 
 meeracles." 
 
 " I hear you warm them up pretty well out at 
 Ruby Hill," said Vaughan, who found the big, bluff 
 Cornishman extremely interesting. "Your people 
 are born theologians, anyway." 
 
 " An obstinate, an set, an consated," said Ricker. 
 " What did Tregoning do the other day, he and his 
 * committee, but wait on me when I was in bed with 
 the influenzy and ask me to alter my style of preach 
 ing ! They wanted something new ! Said I, Tregon 
 ing, you re onreasonable. I ve given you a variety. 
 I ve given you Sanctification, Believer s Justification, 
 The Triumphant Host, The Church Militant. Last 
 Sunday I gave ye Heaven ; next Sunday, all being 
 well, I ll give you Hell ! " There was not the ghost of 
 a smile on Ricker s face, but his blue eyes glinted. 
 
 " That is what they want," said Vaughan, with a 
 laugh ; he could laugh about it now. 
 
 " Well, Brother Vaughan, consider what I ve said," 
 urged the Cornishman, " an the Lord be with ye." 
 
 " Amen," said Clement. 
 
 He considered what Ricker had said, long and 
 earnestly, and finally decided that here again he had 
 heard the Voice of God. In addition to his engage 
 ments to lecture and his mission to preach, he under 
 took to turn from the error of their ways the drinking 
 men and women of Eureka and the neighboring towns. 
 
 He wrote to John Harman, the Superintendent of 
 
A CRUSADE FOR TEMPERANCE 181 
 
 Missions, what he had decided to do, unless it was 
 deemed inadvisable by the man whom he always con 
 sulted as his chief, and usually forgot as soon as he 
 had consulted him. Harman replied at great length, 
 laboriously detailing the pros and cons of such an 
 undertaking, then suddenly appeared in Eureka and 
 told the young preacher to " go ahead." His great, 
 round face was wreathed in smiles. He had heard on 
 every corner of the work Vaughan was doing. 
 
 " I knew you had it in you, my boy," he said 
 affectionately, laying his heavy hand on the young 
 man s shoulder. " I don t very often make a mistake 
 in a matter of this kind. Of course you ll have to 
 move cautiously and not antagonize people wherever 
 it can be avoided. But you probably don t need to 
 be told that. You ve used a good deal of tact thus 
 far. I hear you re very much liked up on Richmond 
 Hill." 
 
 He raised his eyebrows significantly. Vaughan 
 abruptly changed the subject, spoke of the books 
 he had been reading, introduced topics which admitted 
 of discussion, wherein Harman play ed no feeble part. 
 He was a born debater, and for an hour or more sat 
 in the long, narrow, dimly lighted study, unconscious 
 of his surroundings in the warmth of argument. He 
 left with manifest reluctance when the loud clanging 
 of bells and the blowing of steam-whistles told him 
 it was noon. Vaughan was not sorry to see him go. 
 He had been included in the invitation to dine at 
 
182 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Shed Wellman s, but did not regret having an 
 engagement to hold a noon meeting at one of the 
 mines. He went to it full of zeal. 
 
 This was the beginning of busy, exciting days. 
 His new departure he found greatly to his liking. 
 For the first time he tasted actual danger; and he 
 found it sweet. Every hour was full of hairbreadth 
 escapes. 
 
 Mary Henley drove down from Galena with Frank 
 to expostulate with him. When she saw him, she 
 cried out in dismay. He seemed to be looking at her 
 through smoked glasses. 
 
 " Who hit you ? " asked Frank briefly. 
 
 " The city marshal," Vaughan replied, with an 
 attempt at a smile. " He said I was hired to do this 
 temperance work, and I told him he lied." 
 
 " He must have been infernally quick to black both 
 eyes at once," commented Frank, examining the 
 bruises critically. 
 
 " He didn t. I turned the other cheek, " Vaughan 
 replied. " I never felt quite satisfied with the part 
 I played in that Poole affair " 
 
 " It was the best thing you ever did," broke in 
 Frank, " the best thing in the world for your reputa 
 tion and your influence. What sort of effect did this 
 have ! " Frank uttered an exclamation of disgust. 
 
 "Filled the hall," returned the young preacher. 
 " I hadn t had large audiences before. Last night 
 they came in droves." 
 
A CRUSADE FOR TEMPERANCE 183 
 
 "Well, well! " ejaculated Frank. 
 
 Mary glowed. But she sighed, nevertheless. " Oh, 
 Clement, it is fine, it is magnificent, but your pre 
 cious life don t risk it ! " 
 
 " Who told me to take the leap in the dark, and 
 to fear nothing, less than a year ago? " he demanded. 
 
 " I did, I did," she acknowledged, " but I never 
 thought it would be like this." 
 
 "It will probably be worse before I m through 
 with it," he returned. 
 
 There was an exultant ring in his voice. He liked 
 the thrill, the dare, the consciousness of power. His 
 relish for them dismayed her. She would have had 
 him calmer, more dignified, more serene, conquering 
 by the soothing arts of peace. Even in turning 
 the other cheek he had defied the man who struck 
 him. 
 
 "Was it true that the French saloon-keeper out 
 at Morning Star drew his revolver on you ? " inquired 
 Frank. 
 
 Vaughan laughed. " How did you hear that ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Will Dower heard it at Battle Mountain. Is it 
 true?" 
 
 " Yes, he said I d spoiled his business. I unbut 
 toned my coat and said Shoot away ! You can t 
 hit me. " 
 
 Vaughan s eyes shone like stars in their dark set 
 tings. 
 
184 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " You don t want to take too many chances, young 
 man," said Frank warningly. 
 
 Mary gazed, fascinated, fearing she knew not what. 
 
 " You are worn out, now," she said reprovingly, 
 66 as nervous as you can be." 
 
 " Nervous ? Look at that ! " He stretched out his 
 hand and held it, without a tremor, for some seconds. 
 "Don t worry," he called after them, as they drove 
 away. But they went home more troubled than they 
 had come. 
 
 Mary was full of forebodings. Even Frank con 
 fessed to being anxious. 
 
 On Richmond Hill, likewise, the stories were told, 
 and Vaughan was given more or less of glory accord 
 ing to the animus of the story-teller. It was Winslow 
 who described the two black eyes; he made them 
 absurd. Haverford told about the saloon-keeper, not 
 without a certain lukewarm admiration for the cour 
 age displayed, but confessing a lack of sympathy 
 with the " movement." 
 
 Katharine herself was extremely uneasy over her 
 protege s last challenge to the public, not only on 
 account of the menace to his personal safety, but 
 because she hated to think of him at the mercy of 
 the mob, in a position to be laughed at and criticized. 
 Yet she could not resist a thrill of pride when Ned 
 Wilkins said, " The Parson s all right. He s good 
 stuff!" 
 
 " Wait till I tell you what I saw to-day," he added. 
 
A CRUSADE FOR TEMPERANCE 185 
 
 " Twas down there in front of Jack s. There 
 was a fellow going for the Parson just about as the 
 Frenchman did, at Morning Star. He d just whipped 
 out his revolver when a pair of runaway horses came 
 galloping down the hill. You know how icy it is on 
 that corner. The sleigh slewed around " 
 
 " Where was the driver?" inquired Miss Emmeline. 
 
 " On the floor of the sleigh drunk ! " replied Ned. 
 " Vaughan sprang for the horses and succeeded in 
 stopping them. Incidentally he saved himself, for 
 the fellow with the pistol would have shot him before 
 we could have got there. We had him fixed by the 
 time Vaughan came back." 
 
 "Did Jack see him?" 
 
 " Yes, Jack was there." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 " Proud as a peacock." 
 
 Haverford arose to say his adieus. Winslow 
 lingered. 
 
 " Going my way ? " inquired Haverford. 
 
 " Presently," returned Winslow. 
 
 Haverford waited. Winslow still delayed. At 
 length, seeing there was no help for it, he resigned 
 himself to Haverford s companionship. Halfway 
 down Main Street he paused abruptly. 
 
 " I ve forgotten something," he exclaimed. " I ll 
 have to go back. Don t wait." 
 
 Haverford, his suspicions now thoroughly aroused, 
 turned and watched him. It was a ruse, no doubt, 
 
186 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 to make an opportunity for speaking with Mrs. 
 Chisholm alone. Could Winslow not see, what they 
 all saw so plainly, that her feelings had changed 
 towards him, that he was no longer singled out by 
 her approval, that, on the contrary, she avoided him? 
 
 Five minutes passed, ten. He walked uneasily up 
 and down. Evidently Winslow had not met with a 
 rebuff, after all. Could it be possible that Mrs. 
 Chisholm s .manner veiled emotions of a different 
 character from those Haverford attributed to her? 
 His pulse-beats quickened. Half an hour had elapsed 
 and still there was no sign of his missing companion. 
 Someone else came hurrying along, someone whose 
 quick, light step he knew. 
 
 " Good-evening, Vaughan," he called ; " have you 
 seen anything of Winslow? " 
 
 Vaughan started in surprise. 
 
 " Yes. Why? " he returned. 
 
 " He left me some time ago half an hour or more," 
 said Haverford hastily. " He said he had forgotten 
 something. They don t usually like to have callers 
 so late." 
 
 " They ? " repeated Vaughan vacantly. 
 
 " The Richmond Hill people. That was where he 
 was going, of course. There s no one else in this part 
 of the town on whom he calls." 
 
 Vaughan remained silent. It was not the house on 
 Richmond Hill that he had seen Winslow enter, but 
 the small cottage in which old Mother Macy lived. 
 
A CRUSADE FOR TEMPERANCE 187 
 
 Her husband worked in the mine, on the night shift, 
 and pretty little Ellen Brady, Mary Flynn s sister, 
 had gone there to remain until she should find a better 
 place. He had seen Winslow approach the cottage, 
 glance furtively around, then hurry up the path to 
 the door. He had seen the light shine out from within, 
 framing Ellen s light curls, had heard her innocent 
 girlish cry of welcome, and had seen Winslow enter 
 as a man enters his own house ! 
 
 " Well, good-night," said Haverf ord, as they came 
 to Jackson s Corner. " I suppose you are very busy, 
 these days." 
 
 " Yes, very busy," replied Vaughan absent-mind 
 edly. For the moment, even his work for temperance 
 seemed to have been blotted out. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE DAEE 
 
 THE topic most discussed and wrangled over, 
 in Eureka, apart from the themes related 
 to daily work, was, strange as it may seem, 
 religion. Nor was this as strange as it seems. The 
 virtues which religion inculcates fortitude, patience, 
 faith arc the virtues of the miner. The rewards it 
 has to offer support here, consolation hereafter 
 appeal especially to him., In the constant presence 
 of danger a man is not able to forget his own 
 soul even if he would, in the continual endurance 
 of hardship he is driven to face the great questions 
 of life, of destiny, of the relations of man to God and 
 God to man. So, when it chanced that a prominent 
 lawyer of well-known atheistic tendencies, publicly, 
 in the columns of the newspapers, wagered a large 
 sum that no clergyman in the United States would 
 read aloud in church certain chapters of the Book 
 designated as Holy and declared to be inspired, the 
 challenge was taken up and talked about in Eureka 
 as if it were a personal affair. 
 
 Particularly in Jack Perry s saloon was argument 
 rife. Everyone acknowledged that Haverford would 
 
 .183 
 
THE DARE 189 
 
 not read those chapters ; neither would Mumf ord, the 
 Presbyterian minister, nor Father O Keefe, the Ro 
 manist. Of Vaughan they were less sure. " If he 
 thought the Old Gentleman put them there for him 
 to read, he d read em! " insisted Jack. 
 
 " But, Jack," returned Barker, who had scented 
 argument afar off, as a war-horse scents battle, and 
 had hurried in, " that s the point. This man who 
 writes for the newspaper contends that the Old Gen 
 tleman, as you call Him, didn t put in those chapters ; 
 he thinks twas the work of the Other Fellow." 
 
 "Then it s no God s Book!" declared a gray- 
 haired miner sadly. 
 
 Barker shrugged his shoulders. Jack whispered 
 in the ear of a boy who stood near. The boy 
 disappeared and soon returned with Vaughan in 
 tow. 
 
 " Parson," said Jack, as the young Methodist 
 hurried into the saloon, wondering what had happened 
 or what was about to happen, for he had received 
 only the message to come down to Jack s, " Parson, 
 I want to ask you some questions." 
 
 Vaughan glanced hastily around the room, saw 
 Barker, saw Jo and several other miners in the habit 
 of attending his church, saw Winslow, who had just 
 come in, noted the unsettled look on Jo s face, 
 Barker s quizzical smile, Winslow s satirical twitching 
 of the lip, suspected mischief, and braced himself. 
 " Go on," he said. 
 
190 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Do you swallow the Bible whole? " inquired Jack 
 earnestly. 
 
 " I swallow it whole, Jack," Vaughan answered. 
 " Have you heard me preach all this time, not to 
 know that?" 
 
 " You don t throw out none of it ? " 
 
 " Not a word ! " declared the young preacher 
 stoutly. 
 
 Jack turned in triumph to the group of cavilers and 
 doubters. 
 
 " Why ? " pursued Vaughan. 
 
 " Cos this ere boomer of infiddle-ism who writes 
 for the papers says there ain t a preacher in the 
 United States but throws out a lot of it that ain t 
 fit for a decent man to read or decent folks to hear. 
 I thought there was one preacher in the United States 
 that would take his dare. " Jack plumed himself 
 like a turkey cock. 
 
 " Let me see the paper," said Vaughan quietly. He 
 read over the list of chapters referred to by the chal 
 lenger and saw at once the pit into which he had 
 leaped. He could hear Jack say, " I told you so. I 
 knew he d stand to it." Jack s acquaintance with 
 The Book was limited to what he had heard read in 
 church. 
 
 "Well, Parson, what do you think of the list?" 
 inquired Barker. 
 
 Winslow laughed. 
 
 Not for worlds would Vaughan now retract or 
 
THE DARE 191 
 
 hedge. He temporized. " I suppose you will all 
 bring your wives and daughters to hear me? " he 
 queried. 
 
 " CVr-tain ! " said Jack. He had neither chick 
 nor child, and good old Martha, his honest wife, was 
 deaf as a post. 
 
 " Well, hardly," said Barker. Louise Barker was 
 one of the prettiest girls in Eureka and one of the 
 best beloved. 
 
 " Oh, it s to be all men ; very well," said Vaughan. 
 He had gained one point. 
 
 " And you will bring your Bibles to see that I read 
 the chapter, word for word? " he pursued. 
 
 " Sure," said Jack. He wasn t positive there was 
 a Bible in the house, but there ought to be. Martha 
 probably had one. 
 
 " And I shall be allowed to make whatever personal 
 application I please ? " Vaughan continued. 
 
 " You bet," said Jack. No one demurred ; that 
 would be confessing too much. 
 
 " And you shall hear me through," Vaughan con 
 cluded. " I m not going to have any one of you go 
 away and misinterpret or half interpret what I ve 
 said. The door will be locked." 
 
 To this also every man agreed, and an evening was 
 set for the reading of the chapter. 
 
 With long, earnest thought and many prayers did 
 the young preacher prepare himself for the encoun 
 ter. The evil with which he meant to grapple, armed 
 
192 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 with the text afforded by the chapter, was one which 
 he had avoided, until now. With every nerve in his 
 sensitive body he shrank from the mention of it. And 
 yet he had realized from the outset that some day, 
 somehow, he must cleanse the Augean stables of Eu 
 reka dance-halls and dens. He shared with most men 
 the instinctive feeling that a man s personal habits 
 are his own concern. The privileges of his profession 
 thus far had failed to warrant his prying too deeply 
 into his neighbor s private affairs. On the other hand, 
 there were boys and young men in Eureka who must 
 be prevented from holding lightly the sacred mys 
 teries of life and sex. And there was Mary Flynn s 
 sister Ellen, the pretty little blue-eyed Irish lassie 
 he could not see her go the way of the flaming 
 courtesan ! 
 
 So he said within himself and pondered, planned 
 and rejected his plans, wrote out sermons and de 
 stroyed them, more confused and perplexed than at 
 any time since his coming to Eureka. 
 
 The boy who rang the bell for services at the 
 church and swept out occasionally could not under 
 stand why the Parson was so anxious to be rid of him 
 that night. He hung around the corner to watch, 
 and when he saw forty men, he was sure there were 
 forty, for he counted, file solemnly in, each with a 
 Bible in his hand, he determined to slip in behind them 
 and see " what was up." 
 
 To his chagrin the Parson quickly closed and 
 
THE DARE 193 
 
 locked the door. It was of no use to apply his eye 
 to the keyhole the key was in the lock. And, listen 
 as he might, he heard only the usual reverent tones of 
 prayer and Scripture-reading. So he stole away. 
 
 Within, there was a hushed and curious company. 
 Nearly everyone Vaughan knew was there. Shed 
 Wellman and Dick, Poole and Pilcher, Jo the miner 
 and his mates ; Barker, very prominent in a front seat ; 
 Addison, sober for once ; Mat Kyle, awed, but full of 
 confidence in the Parson, and Jack, watchful as an 
 old dog. 
 
 Arthur Sinclair was not present, but Ned Wilkins 
 was there. So was Penrose, the editor of the Eureka 
 Sentinel, and Vaughan started as he recognized him 
 Eugene Winslow. 
 
 The chapter was not lacking in dignity or impres- 
 siveness as Vaughan read it. It contained words not 
 used in polite society, but it is safe to assert everyone 
 present had heard them, knew what they meant. Nev 
 ertheless, the reader assumed ignorance on the part 
 of his listeners and explained, as he would explain any 
 other unfamiliar composition, the harsh utterances, 
 their superficial meaning and their deep significance. 
 Then he closed the book and made his personal appli 
 cation. 
 
 It was personal. He called each man by name, laid 
 bare his hidden sin, gave facts, dates even. It was a 
 bold thing to do ; but no one seemed to resent it. Each 
 culprit, as his turn came, wriggled on his scat, 
 
194 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 blushed, laughed like a schoolboy caught pilfering an 
 orchard, tried to think it was no great affair it was 
 something at which men laugh, of which few are 
 ashamed, some even proud. Yet, in spite of them 
 selves, they were ashamed. The relish for the unlaw 
 ful had been taken away. 
 
 Winslow watched them with a bitter smile. If he 
 h?.d had such experiences but he never had; no one 
 had ever seen him enter a dance-hall or a den, no one 
 had ever seen him speak to the women of the under 
 world, but if they had, no beggarly Methodist parson 
 should call it to his remembrance. 
 
 Suddenly, the long brown forefinger of the young 
 preacher was pointed directly at him. 
 
 " All these are venial sins," he was saying, " com 
 pared with the sin of him who takes an innocent young 
 girl 
 
 In a flash Winslow was on his feet, revolver drawn. 
 
 " Another word and I ll blow your brains out ! " 
 he shouted. 
 
 Instantly Dick, Jo the miner and half a dozen 
 others had covered him. The room was in confusion ; 
 men were leaping over chairs, calling out, " Don t 
 shoot!" "Disarm him!" 
 
 In the midst of the uproar Jack Perry s voice rang 
 out, clear and steady as a trumpet-call, " I ll take 
 care of this, gentlemen ! Keep your sittin ! Give me 
 that shootin iron, Winslow, or I ll pump ye as full 
 of lead as a lead-mine ! " 
 
THE DARE 195 
 
 White and shaking like an aspen, Winslow relin 
 quished his weapon. " Ye re a dirty dog, if ye are 
 Eugene Winslow," Jack growled in a low undertone 
 as he received it. 
 
 " He s no gentleman," blustered Winslow. " There 
 isn t a man alive who will allow a lady s name to be 
 brought into a discussion of this kind." 
 
 " He didn t name any names," returned Jack. 
 " He warn t dealin with anyone but you ; and you 
 agreed, like the rest of us, to fall in and take your 
 medicine. Set down." 
 
 Winslow sat down. 
 
 " Go ahead, Parson," said Jack. But the Parson, 
 like everyone else in the room, felt that there was 
 nothing more to be said, just then. The fire had been 
 kindled. A spirit had been aroused which could be 
 left to do its work. 
 
 He uttered a brief prayer for guidance, and sup 
 port, and strength, unlocked the door and let them 
 go. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 KATHAEINE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW 
 
 THE next morning s issue of the EureJca Sen 
 tinel contained this item : " Those individ 
 uals who gave a certain Reverend Gentle 
 man the dare, last night, received more than they 
 bargained for ; at least, so it is said." 
 
 Katharine read the paragraph, over and over, but 
 failed to penetrate its significance. She was quite 
 sure Vaughan was meant by the " Reverend Gentle 
 man," but what was " the dare " ? Who gave it ? 
 How did they get " more than they bargained for?" 
 Katharine would very much like to know. 
 
 Whom should she ask? None of her immediate 
 household. They were too ready now to detect in 
 everything she said or did her interest in this extraor 
 dinary young man. Ned was out of town for a day 
 or two, on business for the firm. Winslow came but 
 seldom to the house nowadays; he was out of the 
 question, anyway. There remained Mr. Haverford. 
 She would write him a note and ask him to go riding 
 with her. 
 
 She hastily penned a few lines and dispatched them 
 by Jerry. In a half -hour he had returned, bearing 
 
 196 
 
KATHARINE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW 197 
 
 the answer, " With pleasure. At three this after 
 noon. F. H." 
 
 Donning her most becoming habit, of a rich, deep 
 velvety blue, and setting a mannish-looking hat upon 
 her most feminine head, all bright waves of hair with 
 out and carefully concocted schemes within, she 
 awaited with some impatience the coming of her 
 escort, in the meanwhile walking up and down the 
 long veranda which commanded the street. There he 
 was, at last, with that monkey of an Elsie perched in 
 front ! 
 
 " Have you been waiting long? " he inquired, 
 alighting and lifting down the child. 
 
 " Ten minutes or more," she coldly returned. She 
 hated to be kept waiting, as he knew. " Where did 
 you find that young woman? " 
 
 " She met me at the gate," he answered, with a 
 smile ; " we didn t expect you to be so prompt." 
 
 " Where s Marguerite, Elsie ? " demanded Katha 
 rine, turning to her daughter, who stood de 
 murely looking on, her small hands clasped before 
 her. 
 
 " Having lessons with Aunt Emmeline, mamma," 
 returned Elsie sweetly. " Lessons with Aunt Emme 
 line " was a movable feast, adjusted to the inclination 
 of the teacher. 
 
 " Well, you d better have lessons, too," said her 
 mother. " Go in and tell Aunt Emmeline I said so. 
 Run along ! " 
 
198 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Elsie s lips quivered, but she obeyed. 
 
 " I ve been trying for a year to have a regular 
 governess for the children," said Katharine, as they 
 trotted away, " but Arthur won t hear of it and 
 Mabel always thinks just as he does. Elsie is almost 
 six years old." 
 
 " Her brain is very active," returned Haverf ord 
 conventionally. 
 
 " The more reason for its being occupied," said 
 Katharine resolutely. She was not in the best of 
 humor. She seemed, to herself, to have somehow lost 
 control of her little world. It no longer came to her 
 for counsel and direction. Once, not a move had been 
 made until she approved of it. Now, everyone went 
 his or her own way, and she was left alone. 
 
 She had not much cared what they did, in these 
 last few months. Her eyes had been on one figure, 
 her ears keen to catch whatever might be said about 
 one person. And he he went his own way, also! 
 That should have cooled her interest, but it was the 
 rather stimulated. 
 
 She had always despised that sort of a woman, the 
 sort that is neglected into caring. She must throw 
 off this prepossession, summon her little court, play 
 the queen again. Here was Haverf ord, to begin with. 
 She would assert her old sway over him, by no means 
 a difficult undertaking. 
 
 She turned to him with her most charming manner, 
 a blend of confidence and command. " We ve seen 
 
KATHARINE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW 199 
 
 very little of you lately, except at church," she said 
 graciously. 
 
 Haverford, surprised, began to frame excuses. 
 There had been the Lenten services, the rehearsals for 
 Easter music. He was quite well aware that he could 
 have found time for calling; and in his soul he knew 
 that he should have done so if he had for a moment 
 suspected that he was missed. 
 
 " Yes, I know," she responded pensively ; " it is 
 the busiest time of the year for you. But it is the 
 dullest time of the year for us, the time when we most 
 need our friends. However early spring may come, 
 it always seems late." 
 
 " But it is certainly coming. Look there ! " He 
 pointed to the buds showing on a cottonwood tree. 
 Beyond it, down the valley, a tender light, half mel 
 ancholy, half gladness, altogether wistful and appeal 
 ing, transformed the plain out of its customary com 
 monplace into unquestionable charm. 
 
 " It really looks as if it might be going to do 
 something fine and beautiful, doesn t it ! " exclaimed 
 Katharine ; " bring forth roses instead of sage 
 brush!" 
 
 " It might, if it were watered and sown," said 
 Haverford gravely. 
 
 Was there an undertone of meaning in his voice, a 
 sympathetic vibration to the needs of the neglected 
 plain? 
 
 She glanced at him as he straightened himself in 
 
200 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the saddle and tightened the rein which had been lying 
 loose on his horse s neck, deciding, as she had many 
 times before, that he was a v t ery handsome man. His 
 clear-cut features, fine, full brow, the poise of his 
 head on his shoulders made up an ensemble which ap 
 pealed to her love of the refined and the distinguished. 
 What did he lack? What did he need to make of him 
 a great man? Only what she could give, what she 
 had given, years ago, when she was Katharine Sin 
 clair and he was the rector of a church in the eastern 
 city where she spent one winter among friends the 
 life, the fire, the quickening force she knew so well 
 how to give. 
 
 She had induced him to return with her to Eureka 
 and he had assumed the charge of the little church 
 she built. He had surprised and swayed his people 
 for more than a twelvemonth, until Guy Chisholm 
 had appeared and carried her away. Then the life 
 had dwindled, the fire had gone out, the force had 
 failed. He had remained at Saint Stephen s, his 
 Bishop had said "he was a good man for the place, 
 an earnest Churchman and without encumbrances," 
 arid Katharine had been kind, had written during her 
 absence, had seen much of him since her return. He 
 was always ready, now, to come when she called, to 
 fulfill her commissions, to answer her questions she 
 was suddenly reminded of the question she intended 
 to ask him this afternoon. " By the way," she said 
 aloud, "do tell me what that paragraph meant in the 
 
KATHARINE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW 201 
 
 Sentinel this morning ! Who is * the Reverend Gen 
 tleman? It wasn t you, was it? Who dared him, to 
 do what?" 
 
 Haverf ord stiffened. " It was not I, I assure you ! " 
 he said, with energy. " A disgraceful performance i " 
 
 Shje was all attention. " Disgraceful? " she re 
 peated; "you surprise me! Who was it? What was 
 the occasion? " 
 
 "It was Vaughan, of course. Whatever is un 
 usual, bizarre, it is safe to refer to him. Excuse me, 
 he is a friend of yours." Haverford paused. 
 
 " Go on," she cried. " Don t spare him on my ac 
 count. What has he done, now? " 
 
 Haverford still hesitated. 
 
 " I know he is very unconventional," she continued 
 hurriedly ; " but he is untrained, in a way. If he 
 
 could be brought into the Church " She actually 
 
 looked to Haverford for encouragement and support ! 
 
 He uttered a hasty ejaculation. " My dear young 
 lady, what are you thinking of? What could the 
 Church do with such a man? He wouldn t conform, 
 be dictated to in the slightest particular he doesn t 
 even keep order among his own followers. Do you 
 know what he does? He encourages any ignorant 
 son of Cornwall or Cork to interrupt him in the mid 
 dle of a sermon will interrupt himself, as they tell 
 me he did the other day. They were singing Nearer, 
 my God, to Thee, and had reached the line, E en 
 though it be a cross that raiscth me * You don t 
 
202 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 mean that, he said, I m afraid / don t ! and then 
 and there began to pray that they might mean it ! 
 Sensational, that s what he is ; a Methodist, when 
 you ve said that, you ve said all." 
 
 " He certainly does a great deal of good among 
 the poor," interposed Katharine warmly. 
 
 " Y-es, he s kind. He likes to potter around and 
 to visit the sick. He has that affectionate manner 
 which takes with a certain class of people." 
 
 Katharine s cheeks burned. In another moment 
 she would have thrown discretion to the winds; but, 
 as luck would have it, Eugene Winslow, also on horse 
 back, met them, just as she was about to enter on a 
 defense of the young Methodist and his methods. 
 
 To this chance meeting Haverford attributed her 
 heightened color. The suspicions aroused that night 
 on Main Street were revived in him and grew. He 
 withdrew sensitively into himself, and Katharine, di 
 verted from the subject and chilled by his manner, 
 spoke no more of Vaughan or of the item in the 
 Sentinel. They turned to other, impersonal themes. 
 Much of the time they rode without speaking. 
 
 There was an awkward silence at the door. It was 
 Haverford who broke it. 
 
 " I have felt for some time, Mrs. Chisholm," he 
 said formally, " that my work in Eureka really 
 ended years ago if I could have the courage to face 
 the facts. I have about made up my mind to ask the 
 Bishop to transfer me to another field." 
 
KATHARINE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW 203 
 
 Katharine looked, as she felt, annoyed. Why did 
 he speak in that aggrieved tone, as if she were to 
 blame for his shortcomings and disappointments? 
 
 " We should be very sorry to lose you," she re 
 turned, with equal formality. "Perhaps you will 
 reconsider it." She gathered up her habit and left 
 him standing there. 
 
 Mabel was in her room. She answered Katharine s 
 knock with a cheerful " Come ! " and removed a pile 
 of petticoats from the big chair by the window by 
 way of invitation to be seated. 
 
 " Tired ? " she queried, as her sister-in-law threw 
 herself down among the cushions with a sigh. 
 
 " Yes," said Katharine wearily, " I am. It isn t 
 spring enough to be soothing and restful. The air 
 is like a whip. You go on and do things and suddenly 
 realize you ve gone too far. I don t think I shall 
 ride again until it is settled weather." She picked 
 up her riding-crop and drew her skirts about her. 
 
 " Don t go," said Mabel. She was dressing for 
 dinner, with the painstaking care she devoted to this 
 daily ceremonial, her offering to Arthur. " Don t 
 go," she repeated, " it never takes you long to dress ; 
 and I want to ask you something." Katharine sank 
 languidly back again in the inviting recesses of the 
 great chair. " What is it? " she inquired carelessly. 
 
 " I wonder why Arthur is so out of sorts with 
 Eugene Winslow." Mabel paused in the act of 
 thrusting among the masses of her dark brown hair 
 
204 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the jeweled comb which went through the fiction of 
 confining it. 
 
 " Is he? " returned Katharine indifferently. " I m 
 sure I don t know. 
 
 " I think" said Mabel mysteriously, her brown 
 eyes round as a child s, " that it has something to do 
 with that item in the Sentinel this morning." 
 
 Katharine s languid interest awoke. " What makes 
 you think so ? " she inquired, suddenly sitting up 
 right. 
 
 " Oh, I don t know. I just feel that it has. I m 
 going to ask Arthur when he comes home. I know 
 he won t tell me, but I m going to ask him." 
 
 " You absurd child ! " laughed Katharine. How 
 very, very pretty Mabel was, in that tangle of lace 
 and ribbons she called a neglige. It was no wonder 
 Arthur adored her. And she was quite content to 
 remain with him, here in the wilderness ! How little 
 difference it made where a woman lived, if she had the 
 one she loved beside her ! 
 
 " I think the Reverend Gentleman was C.V., " 
 pursued Mabel, employing the children s name for 
 him, " because of something Arthur said when he read 
 the notice." 
 
 "What did he say?" demanded Katharine. She 
 had quite forgotten her own fatigue and Mabel s 
 prettincss. 
 
 " Something about Methodists, I ve really forgot 
 ten what. So when C.V. called this afternoon " 
 
KATHARINE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW 205 
 
 "Has Mr. Vaughan been here?" cried Katharine, 
 sharply. " What did he say ? Did he ask for me ? " 
 
 " He didn t ask for anyone, Katharine. He just 
 stayed for a half -hour or more, playing with the chil 
 dren, and then went away. I didn t know, until 
 Arthur should tell me something about it, how I was 
 to act. So I didn t go down." 
 
 The little airs which Mabel assumed of " the obe 
 dient wife " would have touched Katharine s sense 
 of humor at another time and in relation to another 
 subject. At present they irritated her. " I do 
 wish," she said pettishly, " that you could sometimes 
 think for yourself and not wait till Arthur tells you 
 what ideas are suitable. Of course, Mr. Vaughan 
 knew there must be some of us in the house. Where 
 was Emmeline? " 
 
 " Reading in her room. She has a novel she is 
 crazy to finish. Marguerite says she reads it while 
 she combs her hair. I don t think he expected to see 
 any of us, Kitty. I questioned Nora afterwards, and 
 she said he didn t ask for a soul. 
 
 " If I find out anything I ll tell you," she added, as 
 Katharine arose to leave the room. " I ll do what I 
 can with Arthur. Of course, I don t know what sort 
 of a mood he may be in." 
 
 She did her pretty, coaxing best when her husband 
 came home, but for once her dainty wiles were in 
 effectual. 
 
 " Child," he said at length, " it is something I don t 
 
206 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 care to have you hear. Isn t that enough, little 
 one?" 
 
 His voice had in it the note of reproachful tender 
 ness which invariably sent Mabel into fits of penitence 
 for having called it forth. " Forgive me," she mur 
 mured, with her lips against his cheek. 
 
 She avoided Katharine s inquiring glance at dinner, 
 and when they met in the hall on their way to bed she 
 whispered in her sister-in-law s ear, " It s of no use, 
 Kitty. He simply doesn t want to have me know. I m 
 afraid it s pretty bad." 
 
 What was pretty bad? The challenge, or the man 
 ner in which it was accepted? How was Eugene 
 Winslow implicated? If Vaughan had said or done 
 anything he was ashamed of, he surely would not 
 have called that afternoon. But evidently Haverford 
 and even Arthur thought he ought to be ashamed. 
 Was the lack in him or in them, that they misinter 
 preted, perhaps, an innocent, even a praiseworthy, 
 motive? These were some of the things which Kath 
 arine would very much like to know. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MR. EUGENE WINSLOW came home from 
 what he considered the Methodist s unpar 
 donable attack upon him, greatly shaken 
 and with a deep sense of humiliation and helplessness. 
 It was the first time Eureka had ever seen him dis 
 turbed out of his customary dignity and calm, and 
 he had been five years in the town. 
 
 Still under thirty, he had a reputation over half 
 the State for clear-headed, cool-headed common sense, 
 the ability to grasp the situation and do the thing 
 which should be done, with enough learning to 
 prove his right to do it. He expected, and so did 
 everyone else, that he would be the next district at 
 torney. Barker coveted the distinction, deserved it, 
 when he was sober, and was nearly twice Winslow s 
 age. Probably he would get it now, thought the agi 
 tated lawyer, seating himself at his desk and burying 
 his head in his hands. 
 
 It was a bad move to antagonize Jack. Confound 
 the Methodist, how did he know? It was like him to 
 be " snooping around ! " What would they say on 
 Richmond Hill! 
 
 207 
 
208 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Over and over again he reviewed the evening and its 
 influence upon his future until his brain was sore. 
 How could he right himself? How could he belittle, 
 degrade, make ridiculous, the one who had exposed 
 him? The two desires were one. 
 
 Schemes mad as the gallop of wild horses raced 
 through his brain, followed by slower, more cunning 
 plans. At last he detained one, scrutinized it, ques 
 tioned it, and smiled approvingly. He drew pen and 
 paper towards him and commenced to write. 
 
 Gradually the tension relaxed. He sighed, the long 
 fluttering sigh of one who sees the clouds lift. In 
 expression, whatever the result might be, he was find 
 ing relief. Only the rapid progress of the pen over 
 the paper told how he was yet moved. He drove the 
 words before him like a flock of sheep. Now and then 
 he stopped and read what he had written, laughing to 
 himself. The color came back to his cheeks, the light 
 to his eyes. He was himself again. 
 
 Night passed, day came and found him there, still 
 eager, alert, determined. Once more he ran through 
 the closely written pages and smiled. He gathered 
 the sheets together and caught his hat from the table 
 where he had flung it on his return from the church. 
 In a very different mood from that which possessed 
 him then, he ran lightly down the stairs and hurried 
 along the street. 
 
 The lights in the office of the Sentinel were being 
 lowered out of deference to the sun, and because Pen- 
 
"ALL FOOLS" 209 
 
 rose was through his work until after breakfast. He 
 looked up as Winslow entered, not wholly pleased at 
 the interruption. 
 
 " I have something for the paper: is it too late? " 
 asked Winslow abruptly. 
 
 " Yes, it is," said Penrose with decision, " and, any 
 way, if it s about last night, I ll tell you to begin with 
 that I mean to say very little about that affair." 
 
 " Who wants you to say anything about it? " re 
 turned Winslow loftily. " This article is concerned 
 with an entirely different matter. Of course, if you 
 
 don t care to look it over " he made a move 
 
 towards the door. 
 
 " Hold on. Don t go off like that ! " cried Pen- 
 rose. He had too many times sought out the lawyer 
 for advice and information and the phrasing of an 
 editorial to send him away dissatisfied or unsatisfied. 
 " Let s see what you ve got." He held out his hand 
 for the manuscript. " I thought " 
 
 " You thought I was as crazy as the rest of you," 
 finished Winslow. " I m not. I was indignant at 
 that fellow s actions, and how the rest of you could 
 sit like a lot of ninnies I don t want to talk about 
 it " 
 
 " Give us your stuff ! " urged Penrose, again ex 
 tending his hand. Winslow, with a laugh, relin 
 quished his papers. 
 
 Penrose was tired, but he was also curious. There 
 was something in Winslow s manner, at once compla- 
 
210 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 cent and eager, which stimulated inquiry. He had 
 something there which was worth while or he would 
 have waited to bring it later. 
 
 Penrose hitched his chair along to the window, 
 drew the shade higher and began to read. Before 
 he had read half a dozen lines a low chuckle broke 
 from him. At the bottom of the page he laughed 
 aloud. 
 
 Winslow grinned, in sympathy and self-apprecia 
 tion. Penrose hurried on. Again he laughed and 
 wagged his head from side to side. His face bright 
 ened. The lines of fatigue disappeared. It was not 
 often in his daily routine that he happened upon any 
 thing so full of meat. He looked up at the lawyer, 
 as he concluded, with an expression very like awe on 
 his thin, sallow face. 
 
 " It s good enough for any big New York daily," 
 he said solemnly. " By jiminy crocus, Winslow, 
 how d you ever do it ? " 
 
 " I ve thought about these things for some time," 
 said Winslow modestly. " I ve read a good deal on 
 the subject. That s why I can t stand hearing these 
 half-baked, uneducated fellows around here under 
 take to tell people what to believe." 
 
 " It ll raise hell among the ministers," said Pen- 
 rose, " if I print it." 
 
 "You re not obliged to print it," said Winslow. 
 
 " But it ll go all over the United States," pursued 
 Penrose, thinking aloud. " It s dynamite, XLL, 
 
"ALL FOOLS" 
 
 ninety-five per cent., sure s you live, but it s great! " 
 He again glanced over the sheets he held in his hand. 
 " Do you want to sign your name to this ? " he asked. 
 
 " I ll sign my initials," replied Winslow. 
 
 " All right, sir. In she goes ! " said Penrose. " It s 
 too late for to-day s paper, but it ll be in to 
 morrow s Wednesday s." 
 
 " That s all right," said Winslow. " And there s 
 another thing I want to speak about, Penrose. Some 
 one ought to organize a debating club to discuss these 
 live topics : why don t you do it? " 
 
 " Me? " cried Penrose in dismay. " I couldn t run 
 a debating club to save my damned neck." 
 
 " You wouldn t have to," returned Winslow easily. 
 " Get it started and elect a president and you wouldn t 
 have any more trouble." 
 
 " There wouldn t anyone take the office," declared 
 Penrose, " and there I d be with a club on my hands. 
 You ve always said you hadn t time for such things." 
 
 " Oh, well, in an affair of this kind right in my 
 line," began Winslow. 
 
 " Would you be president of such a club ? " inquired 
 Penrose point-blank. 
 
 " Why yes, if they wanted me to." 
 
 " All right, sir : we ll see what we can do." 
 
 " Penrose," said Winslow solemnly, u I am con 
 vinced that you and I between us can accomplish 
 a great deal in the intellectual development of 
 Eureka." 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " I don t know about my part of it," said Penrose 
 humbly ; but he was evidently taken with the plan. 
 
 Before the two men separated they had organized 
 the Eureka Debating Club, on paper, selected its 
 officers and written, a notice, to appear in the same 
 newspaper with Winslow s article, appointing Thurs 
 day night for the first meeting, to be held in the 
 schoolhouse. 
 
 It was not until Winslow had left the office that 
 Penrose remembered that this was the night of the 
 Methodist mid-week prayer-meeting. It never oc 
 curred to him that Winslow had been aware of the fact 
 and had arranged the hour, seven, to attract such of 
 the parson s loyal adherents as would not remain away 
 from church, but might be induced to drop in on their 
 way to the half-past-seven service. 
 
 There was one person in Eureka who saw this 
 plainly, discerned the motive in Winslow s article 
 the real purpose of the debating club, no less a per 
 son than Samuel Barker. His encounters with the 
 wily young advocate, in court and out of it, had, as 
 he expressed it, " put him on to Winslow s curves," 
 and he chuckled mightily when he overheard Mumford 
 say, " This is directed against the very foundations of 
 belief." 
 
 " The very foundations of Vaughan ! " returned 
 Barker. " Guess I ll go around and see what he 
 thinks of it." 
 
 He found the young preacher in his study talking 
 
"ALL FOOLS" 213 
 
 earnestly to Jerry Flynn. Jerry looked troubled and 
 left the room without so much as saying " Good-day." 
 Vaughan, himself, was evidently disturbed and paid 
 but indifferent attention to Barker s comments upon 
 Winslow and his works. 
 
 " So you needn t be surprised or offended," said 
 Barker, " if the attendance is slim at the prayer- 
 meeting to-morrow night. They ll all go to the 
 club, after reading that article." 
 
 "What article? " inquired Vaughan, 
 
 Barker threw up his hands. " You haven t heard 
 a word I ve been saying ! " he cried. " Here," he 
 pulled Wednesday s Sentinel out of his pocket and 
 threw it on the desk. " Read this and get it through 
 your head what Winslow s up to." 
 
 " Can t you tell me what is in it ? " inquired 
 Vaughan. 
 
 Barker gave him a quizzical look. " A rehash of 
 Voltaire and the encj^clopaedists done into mining and 
 cowboy vernacular; but it s cleverly done. Read it, 
 read it!" 
 
 "Are you in a hurry for your paper?" asked 
 Vaughan. 
 
 " No. But you must read it, right away. You ve 
 got to preach to the D. P. I. next Sunday. You 
 know it s * All Fools, and as chaplain of the D. 
 
 PT 99 
 JLm " 
 
 " Who said I was chaplain of the D. P. I?" inter 
 rupted Vaughan, smiling in spite of himself. 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " I did," said Barker ; " next Sunday being Our 
 Day, you ll have to preach to Us. The Masons have 
 a Day, and so does the G. A. R. Why not the D. 
 P. I.? Let me know definitely by Friday, so that I 
 can advertise. I shall count on you, so don t fail 
 me." 
 
 He left the church, and Vaughan returned to his 
 thoughts anxious thoughts they were, of the danger 
 that threatened the pretty sister of Mary Flynn. 
 
 His visit to Richmond Hill the previous day had 
 not had for its object the romp which the children 
 claimed, or the interview which Katharine missed, but 
 was planned solely to convey through Nora a message 
 to Jerry asking him to come to the church. The two 
 men had conferred long and earnestly, but without 
 arriving at any definite conclusion. 
 
 " She s that high strung, sor," said Jerry, " if 
 we say too much she ll kick over the traces, and there 
 ye are ! I ll talk with Mary, but I m doubtin t ll do 
 anny good." So they left it. 
 
 The Wednesday Sentinel remained on the table 
 where Barker had flung it, unopened till the follow 
 ing morning, after prayer-meeting. 
 
 There was by no means the usual attendance 
 young girls and the women who always came were 
 present, but there was not a man in the church, save 
 the parson himself. 
 
 Yet Dick had ridden in from the Wellman ranch 
 " on purpose to go," he had himself told Vaughan 
 
"ALL FOOLS" 215 
 
 when they met on the corner. And Jo and his 
 crowd had not in weeks missed a single service. Shed 
 Wellman was out of town. Jack and Mat were both 
 busy. But what had become of the others ? Vaughan 
 delayed the meeting, hoping they would appear. 
 Suddenly Barker s warning recurred to him. He 
 sprang to his feet and gave out the opening hymn. 
 
 As soon as the worshipers had departed and the 
 lights were out, he returned to his study and took up 
 the Sentinel. Winslow s effort was not hard to find: 
 it was on the front page between " Job Jumper Can 
 Return, Says Jury Sitting on The Mexican s Re 
 mains " and " Under the Red Light : Eight Bichloride 
 of Mercury Tablets Did The Business of Self-De 
 struction." Between these two headings there was 
 an attractive brevity about Winslow s " Is There a 
 God?" 
 
 Vaughan read it eagerly from beginning to end 
 not a word escaped him. As Barker had said, it was 
 cleverly done. The heaviness of argument was 
 avoided, yet argument was there, plausible, convinc 
 ing, and through it all glittered and shone the laugh 
 ter of the man whose method had been borrowed along 
 with his plea. Especially did it play, like heat 
 lightning, about Methodism and the Methodists. 
 
 Stung wideawake by the hints, the allusions, 
 Vaughan caught pen and paper, and as Winslow had 
 written he wrote, unconscious of his surroundings 
 until dawn mocked his lamp. Then he pushed back 
 
216 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 what he had written, his sermon, his D. P. I. sermon, 
 written on the text "The Fool Hath Said in His 
 Heart There Is No God," broke his fast, went to 
 Barker s office and left word that he would preach 
 as requested, and set out on a walk over the Geiger 
 Grade. 
 
 Two hours later he came home, full of response to 
 the beckoning April, reread the carefully composed 
 sentences in which he had attempted to reinstate in 
 the Universe the God Winslow had elbowed out, tore 
 the manuscript in shreds, and gave his mood ex 
 pression in a dozen pages or more of a very different 
 sort. 
 
 Barker lost no time, after receiving Vaughan s 
 message, in making ready a notice for the Sentinel. 
 It read as follows : " Next Sunday being All Fools 
 Day a service will be held for the D. P. I., in the 
 Methodist church. A sermon will be preached to Fools 
 by a Fool." Saturday night the significant row of 
 lighted candles appeared on Main Street, announcing 
 a business meeting, and every member of the D. P. I. 
 who could get there came. 
 
 Sunday morning the little church was packed to 
 the doors with a motley assembly, men and women, 
 high and low, the grave and the gay. There was 
 some jesting as they met outside, but inside decorous 
 behavior prevailed. The usual hymn, the usual 
 prayer opened the services, and then the preacher 
 gave out his text : " I said of laughter, it is mad." 
 
"ALL FOOLS" 
 
 Joyous as the Spring influences which entered his 
 veins that day on the Geiger Grade were the words 
 in which he described the innocent, untamed laughter 
 of childhood, the sweet madness of youth. Thence 
 he led them, by story and instance and quotation, to 
 hear the jubilant outcry of triumph, the crooning of 
 humor, the piping of wit, the shout of ripe manhood, 
 the cackle of age all mad ! 
 
 They heard it. They saw figure after figure fall 
 on the screen of their imagination. Then came a 
 hush, like darkness, before the exquisite voice went on : 
 " O potent Laughter, woe to the earnest man, if you 
 creep into the links of his armor ! Woe to the leader 
 in whose train you are found ! Woe to the sentiment 
 against which you set up your harlequin banner ! " 
 
 They were grave enough now, these reckless men, 
 these light women. Were they all mad, as he had 
 said? It was a thought to sober the gayest. 
 
 Another hush fell, and they heard another sound, 
 the sound of weeping; they saw another figure, that 
 of the Man of Sorrows. 
 
 " You know, and I know," rang out the voice of the 
 speaker, " Life is not a thing to be laughed at, it is 
 a thing for tears ! The One Man who saw it clearly, 
 felt it deeply, endured it to the uttermost, did not 
 laugh. He wept! " 
 
 The silken bags ran over that day. The congrega 
 tion must have a vent for their surcharged sensibili 
 ties ; they found it in their pockets. 
 
218 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Winslow s got a big contract if he s going to root 
 out that fellow," said Judge Lansing to Shed Well- 
 man as they left the church. 
 
 " I ain t been so tore up since I was born ! " Shed 
 returned complacently. He was not the only one who 
 had had his money s worth of searching, upheaving 
 emotion. 
 
 " There ain t been nobody in this town that could 
 work on you like that! " they declared. 
 
 This was true. Vaughan knew it was true. He 
 knew what he had done and that it was what he meant 
 to do. He smiled to himself as he thought of his 
 carefully elaborated arguments for the existence of 
 God. It was the voice of the actor, the dramatic ap 
 peal which won. 
 
 But was that the best, the only way? Would not 
 the apostles of old have sought rather to convince and 
 convert and reform these sinners, and not have tried 
 so hard to win them? Was not the lack in him the 
 very lack he found in them? Had it not been, just 
 what Barker had advertised, a sermon to fools by a 
 fool? 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE DEBATE 
 
 A?TER all, it was Ellen who saved herself, or 
 rather that quality in her which will save any 
 true woman if allowed to have its way the 
 sensitive, protective instinct which sits at the door of 
 the too-generous heart, prepared to avenge any slight 
 put upon it. 
 
 Winslow had not aroused this instinct in Ellen 
 until his chagrin made him careless. From the time 
 when he found her standing in the sunshine at the 
 Macys gate, her wide, innocent blue eyes gazing won- 
 deringly at the strange new world in which she found 
 herself, his attitude towards her had been that of the 
 kind, older friend, the teacher, the guide. It was 
 Ellen s own faith in him, her belief that he was the 
 greatest as well as the most delightful of men which 
 betrayed him into tenderer relations. Her readiness 
 to obey him, her willingness to keep his visits a secret 
 from her family, touched Winslow. He grew really 
 fond of the girl. 
 
 Katharine s coldness gave him an excuse, if he 
 needed one. " It is all her fault," he told himself, 
 and kept on, buying trinkets for the child, telling her 
 
 219 
 
220 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 stories, listening to her shrewd, quaint comments on 
 the lives of those about her. There was not a week 
 when he did not spend at least two evenings at the 
 Macj cottage. Mother Macy went to bed early. A 
 pound of tea now and then quieted her scruples. 
 Ellen was free to do as she pleased. 
 
 All at once the visits stopped. Convinced that he 
 was watched, Winslow avoided the cottage. He would 
 not risk a message. When it should be safe for him 
 to see Ellen again he would explain everything. Mean 
 while he trusted to her affection and to her confidence 
 in him to restrain whatever impatience she might feel. 
 And Ellen watched, night after night, setting the 
 lamp in the window, her signal that the coast was 
 clear, and listening to every sound, her pulse-beats 
 quickening at the approach of footsteps, then sink 
 ing to the languor of despair as the steps went by. 
 
 Night after night she removed the lamp, drew the 
 curtain and crept away to bed, to lie palpitating in 
 the darkness, wondering what she had done or said, to 
 offend, wondering if he w r ere hurt or ill. Then she 
 began to hear, from Jerry and the rest, of the club 
 which Winslow had started and which many of the 
 young Irishmen in town had been asked to join. 
 
 " I ve no use for him," said Jerry. " But I ll jine, 
 if for no more than to watch him. He ll bear watch- 
 in . He s a fox, that wan." 
 
 Was Jerry right? She listened to whatever was 
 said of Winslow; and his name was in every mouth, 
 
THE DEBATE 
 
 now-a-days. She put this and that together. Mother 
 Macy did not help matters : she resented Ellen s 
 moods and missed her pound of tea. 
 
 At last, one night, the truant appeared, a little 
 flushed, a little embarrassed, yet quite confident that 
 he could explain away any unpleasantness created by 
 his absence. The Ellen who met him was a very dif 
 ferent Ellen from the one he bade good-by, that 
 chilly night in March, when he left Haverford and 
 ran back to " take out the taste " of the uncomfor 
 table call on the Chisholms and Sinclairs. 
 
 " There s one place in town where I m welcome," he 
 had said to himself. " I ll go there." 
 
 Pie had not been to see her since, and it was now the 
 beginning of May. He had not felt safe till now. 
 But it had been a long time to wait, saying nothing. 
 He did not blame her for being cold as ice and 
 haughty as a queen. He liked her all the better for 
 it. The colder she became, the warmer he, and from 
 carefully concocted excuses floundered into some 
 thing approaching truth. He told her of the scene 
 at the church, not as it was, but as she could hear it, 
 told of Vaughan s attack upon him, and that he had 
 been forced, against his will, to stay away. 
 
 She knit her pretty brows. Why, why all this 
 pother? Was it because she was a working girl and 
 lie a gentleman? But in America that did not 
 matter. She had been in the States long enough to 
 learn this. 
 
222 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Winslow was at his wits end how to answer. He 
 blustered about Vaughan, uttered vague threats. She 
 evidently did not believe them. " Oh, I mean what I 
 say," he answered her. " I ve got things fixed for 
 to-morrow night. There s to be a debate at the 
 church. He s to take part. England against 
 Ireland." 
 
 "England against Ireland?" she repeated. He 
 felt that he had said too much. " I ll tell you about 
 it when I come Saturday night," he said hurriedly. 
 " Don t say a word to anyone ! Good-night, little 
 dear ! What not a single kiss ! I ll make .the 
 Parson pay for robbing me." 
 
 She watched him narrowly, encouraging the dis 
 trust of him that she somehow felt might cure the 
 heartache which lingered in her yet. 
 
 " I ll be back Saturday night," he promised, " and 
 I ll bring you something nice." 
 
 Two months ago, six weeks, a month, this might 
 have served, but not now. She went to bed and slept 
 soundly. The next afternoon she claimed her half-day 
 out, to Mother Macy s astonishment it was the 
 first Thursday afternoon Ellen had cared to take 
 and went to see her sister, Mary Flynn. Nora Flynn, 
 Mike s sister, was there, from the big house on the hill, 
 and so were one or two other girls ; and Mary had the 
 teapot on. 
 
 Mike Flynn s had come to be a meeting place for the 
 working girls. They brought thither their disap- 
 
THE DEBATE 
 
 pointments and perplexities, and if Mary could not 
 decide what should be done, there was Mike to refer 
 to, or Jerry. 
 
 Mary was usually equal to the emergency. She 
 was one of the small, thin, brown women who never 
 flag or tire, as full of the maternal instinct as a hen- 
 sparrow, and capable of exercising it on the multitude 
 who appealed to her without in the least stinting her 
 own brood. She held Tommy on her lap, now, Maggie 
 was nestling against her skirts, and Katie hung over 
 the back of her chair, while she told Nora what to do 
 for her cold and assured Bridget Connor there were 
 plenty of places as good as the one she had lost. She 
 cried out in delight to see Ellen, and tumbled the chil 
 dren into each other s laps as she sprang up to seize 
 and embrace her. 
 
 Jerry came in a few minutes later, and there was a 
 flutter among those of the girls who were not related 
 to him. They asked him how he could spare time 
 from his clubs to be calling around? And when was 
 he going to speak in public? 
 
 " Sure, I may take a hand to-night," returned 
 
 Jerry. " Tis a free-for-all go-as-you-please. 5 Tis 
 
 to be at the Methody church, so many are cominV 
 
 *" What is it ye re speakin on, Jerry ? " inquired 
 
 his sister-in-law. 
 
 " Has England anny right to suppress revolu 
 tionists ? " replied Jerry glibly. " An God pity the 
 man who says she has ! " 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " What would they do to him ? " inquired Ellen with 
 a frightened look. 
 
 " Shoot him, belike," returned Jerry ; " who d be 
 such a fool? " 
 
 " But don t they have to take sides ? " asked Nora. 
 
 "What sides is they to that?" retorted Jerry. 
 " There s but one side to that question." 
 
 Ellen crossed the kitchen and took a seat by Nora s 
 side. " Were you goin home, soon ? " she whispered. 
 " If you are, I ll walk along." 
 
 The two girls went out together. " What s 
 troublin ye, Ellen? " asked Nora as they turned into 
 the street. 
 
 "Is your Mr. Vaughan English?" asked Ellen. 
 
 "If he is, he s a rale gentleman," answered Nora. 
 " Ye d say so, yourself, if you knew him." 
 
 " I was thinkin ," said Ellen slowly, " if he s Eng 
 lish, he d he d speak on the other side, an there d 
 be trouble." 
 
 Nora stopped short. She was in the secret with 
 Jerry and Mary Flynn of Winslow s attentions to 
 Ellen, but had promised not to say a word. Yet here 
 was Ellen bursting with news, obtained from Winslow, 
 Nora was sure. 
 
 " Twould be a sad day for the town if annythijig 
 happened him," she said gravely. " Tis that kind 
 he is to the poor and the sick, an our little gells at the 
 house would be breakin their hearts." 
 
 Ellen did not speak. She was far from ready to 
 
THE DEBATE 225 
 
 betray her lover, neither would she have Nora s friend 
 come to any hurt. 
 
 " If ye re seein him before the night, ye might 
 tell him not to be speakin ," she said at last hurriedly. 
 " I m not say in that I know anything, but if I s him, 
 I wouldn t be speakin ;" and before Nora could stop 
 her she was running back to the Macy cottage as 
 hard as she could run. 
 
 Nora went straight to her mistress and laid the 
 whole story before her. 
 
 Katharine was greatly disturbed. It was so late, 
 very nearly six o clock! Dinner would be served in 
 a few minutes. The club met at seven. There would 
 be no time to send a note. What could she say in it ? 
 Impulse prompted her to go to the meeting in person 
 and ward off by her actual presence any danger that 
 might threaten. Why was not this, after all, the 
 best plan? Ladies were invited. Mrs. Wellman had 
 told her she went once, and the Morgans had been. 
 The change of the place of meeting from the school- 
 house to the church had been made in order to ac 
 commodate the increase in numbers. 
 
 " Arthur," she said to her brother, as they went 
 in to dinner, " have you any engagement this 
 evening? " 
 
 " Only the Debating Club, which I never attend, as 
 you know," he answered, smiling. 
 
 " I want you to go, to-night," she said lightly, 
 " and take me." 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " You, Kitty ? " he exclaimed ; and Mabel and Miss 
 Emmeline echoed "You?" Ned Wilkins laughed, 
 more at them than at her. 
 
 " Winslow would be flattered by your interest," 
 said Arthur, elaborately unfolding his napkin. 
 
 Katharine caught at the suggestion. " I m afraid 
 he thinks we haven t sympathized with his efforts to 
 elevate the masses," she said diplomatically. 
 
 " After those horrid articles in the Sentinel! " broke 
 in Mabel. " Who could sympathize with him ! " 
 
 " He s really done good work in this club, though," 
 interposed Wilkins. " I m not an admirer of Wins- 
 low, but I must own he s brought out some of the 
 young fellows amazingly." 
 
 " If you really want to go - " began Arthur in 
 dulgently. 
 
 " I do, very much," his sister finished promptly. 
 
 It ended in everyone s going. The night was so 
 fair and so full of stars, they gave that as a reason. 
 They did not realize, themselves, how they had caught 
 the contagion of Katharine s desire. 
 
 Vaughan, standing in his study door, breathing the 
 same sweet air, looking at the same stars, was re 
 minded of the night of his arrival at Galena, just a 
 year ago. How far he had traveled from the doubts 
 and apprehensions of that night! How easily now 
 he met and overcame difficulties ! There was the De 
 bating Club, for instance. Winslow himself had pro 
 posed that the time of its meeting be changed from 
 
THE DEBATE 
 
 Thursday to Wednesday night, for the sake of the 
 prayer-meeting. He had begged the Methodist to 
 take part and had been evidently touched and flattered 
 by the offer of the church as a meeting-place. In 
 many ways he had shown his friendliness. There was 
 reason for believing that his visits to the Macy cot 
 tage had ceased. 
 
 Just then a boy ran stumbling up the walk. " Let 
 ter for ye, Parson ! " he called and thrust a note into 
 Vaughan s hand. He read it hurriedly under the 
 lamp. It was from Winslow. He wrote that Judge 
 Lansing had been called out of town. Was there any 
 one else whom Vaughan would like to have take the 
 negative with him? 
 
 Negative of what? Winslow had not yet sent 
 around the question. It was too late now to prepare 
 a set speech. The debater must trust to the inspira 
 tion of the moment, and to the ability, not rare in his 
 profession, to think on his feet and talk against 
 time. He drew in half a dozen last, long breaths of 
 the delicious night air and turned towards the 
 church. 
 
 Members of the club and their guests were already 
 arriving. They came in a steady stream, pouring 
 into the room, men and women, cowboys, miners with 
 their wives. It was to be an unusual occasion. He 
 wondered what the question could be. 
 
 There were the people from Richmond Hill ! Ned 
 Wilkins led the party, carrying a chair in each hand 
 
228 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 high above their heads. Mrs. Chisholm followed him, 
 in a trim, gray walking suit ; then came Mrs. Sinclair, 
 clinging to her husband s arm ; then Miss Emmeline s 
 muffled in a long cloak ; last of all, Haverford. 
 
 Vaughan met them and made them welcome. Wins- 
 low, hurrying in at that moment, did the same. He 
 turned to Vaughan. " Sorry Lansing s given out," 
 he said abruptly. " I suppose you d rather take his 
 place than have a substitute, now ? " 
 
 " I might, if I knew what I was to speak on," re 
 turned Vaughan with a shrug. 
 
 " What, didn t I tell you? A thousand pardons ! " 
 cried Winslow. " It s that matter of controlling 
 revolutionists, you know. Oh, I forgot you were not 
 at the last meeting. Wait I ll give the question from 
 the chair." 
 
 The gavel fell. The meeting came to order. The 
 minutes were read. At last, the question for debate 
 was stated. " Resolved : Should the countries of 
 Europe present to this government a request to unite 
 with them in suppressing revolution, such a proposi 
 tion should be met with scorn." 
 
 Bob Gordon, the first speaker for the affirmative, 
 opened the debate. He was a miner, a big broad- 
 shouldered Scot, with a shock of yellow hair that emu 
 lated the metal in which he worked. He was a man 
 of ability, and had improved whatever opportunity 
 had come his way to read and study. The other 
 miners were proud of him and evinced the fact by a 
 
THE DEBATE 
 
 tremendous handclapping as he arose. Bob showed 
 his big white teeth in an appreciative grin, bowed 
 low to the chairman and to the audience, and entered 
 without hesitation upon his carefully prepared sen 
 tences. 
 
 He had not proceeded far before it was apparent 
 to the dullest among his listeners that the question had 
 undergone a transformation in his hands. It was not 
 what the United States would^or would not do, or 
 what stand the other European countries would 
 take save England. England, English policy, 
 English aggression, English tyranny were being 
 arraigned, and at every disparaging allusion to the 
 feared and hated country, the young Irishmen, who 
 seemed to constitute the majority of the audience, 
 applauded vigorously. 
 
 At the end of the fifteen minutes allotted to Gor 
 don, Winslow s gavel fell, but not a word did the pre 
 siding officer utter on the liberties which had been 
 taken with the question. 
 
 There was an expression on Vaughan s face as he 
 came to his feet which none of that company had seen 
 there before. He believed that into this plot, which 
 he now at last discerned, had entered nearly every one 
 of those watchful, smiling men and women before him. 
 It had been all arranged. As an Englishman he had 
 been selected to receive the insults and indignities these 
 people were only too ready to offer to the mother 
 country. The question under debate had nothing 
 
230 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 whatever to do with the case; anything would serve, 
 so that they had an opportunity to tease and annoy 
 him. 
 
 Somewhat of the revolt and the resistance which 
 entered into him when he sparred with Poole in the 
 rear room of Poole and Pilcher s vibrated in his 
 voice as he took up the challenge Bob Gordon flung 
 down. He bowed to the chairman and the audience, 
 let his gaze wander ever the rows of young Irishmen 
 against the wall, over the ranks of men and women, 
 jniners and cowboys, then down to the chairs where sat 
 the people from Richmond Hill. Here one pair of 
 keen, earnest gray eyes held his own for an instant, 
 with an expression of indignant sympathy and reso 
 lute good-will ; the anger which had filled him softened 
 and a humorous view of the situation succeeded, for 
 a moment, the bitter one. 
 
 He told of Judge Lansing s illness, asked and re 
 ceived permission to occupy not only his own fifteen 
 minutes, but the time allotted to the Judge, then 
 briefly reviewed the speech made by Gordon, showing 
 how the question had been tampered with, but accept 
 ing it as it had been interpreted. When he took his 
 seat the gray eyes thanked him for his temperance 
 and self-control. There was a mild outbreak of re 
 spectful applause led by sundry determined ex 
 plosions from the corner where Dick and Jo sat. 
 
 Vaughan glanced thither, beckoned Dick to him 
 and gave him a whispered direction, Dick nodded and 
 
THE DEBATE 231 
 
 presently brought half a dozen books from the study ; 
 these Vaughan hastily glanced through and set 
 aside. 
 
 Penrose had the half-hour speech. By this time, 
 riot only those among the company who had been made 
 aware beforehand of the trick to be played upon the 
 parson, but everyone else in the church comprehended 
 clearly what sort of a tournament the debate had be 
 come. The tail of the British Lion was to be twisted. 
 They were to have the exquisite pleasure of hearing 
 him roar. 
 
 Penrose had brought to the meeting, as had Gordon, 
 all the arguments that he could possibly use, but, un 
 like the miner, he had had someone to show him how to 
 use them. 
 
 Whereas Bob came out boldly and dealt sledge 
 hammer blows, right and left, Penrose, armed with 
 Winslow s neat rapier, made little, quick, stinging 
 thrusts. 
 
 When he spoke of George the Third and the 
 American colonies, it was in a manner to elicit yelps 
 and howls of patriotism. When he described the Se 
 poys of India blown from the cannon s mouth, mur 
 murs of horror could be heard. By the time he came 
 to Ireland he was stopped at the end of every sentence, 
 sometimes in the middle of it, while the more out 
 spoken among the audience expressed their own 
 opinions on the subject. 
 
 As he ceased and Vaughan arose there was an un- 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 friendly silence then someone hissed. Someone else 
 called " Shame ! " 
 
 The speaker smiled mockingly. " How he despises 
 us ! " thought Katharine. An impatient scuffling of 
 feet followed, then came another hiss. Winslow called 
 for order. 
 
 The hiss was heard again. 
 
 "Why do you hiss ? " inquired Vaughan coolly. " It 
 cannot be the question. That is, as I understand it, 
 of your own choosing. I m sure I shouldn t have 
 chosen it myself a foolish question and misleading, 
 as both of my opponents have shown. 
 
 " Perhaps it is myself whom you are hissing? " He 
 paused, reflectively, and scanned the ranks against the 
 wall. " Yet the volume of sound seems to come from 
 those who are of the same race as I Tis true! I 
 have Irish blood in my veins ! " They hesitated, 
 hardly knowing how to take him, and he continued, in 
 a loud voice, " But owing and owning allegiance to 
 England, God bless her! " 
 
 A single impetuous handclap responded. 
 
 " My opponent," went on the speaker how 
 tender his voice was, an Irish voice, of course why 
 had they not thought of it before ? " has elo 
 quently portrayed the sufferings of Ireland, but I 
 beg the honorable gentleman s pardon his eloquence 
 lacks something. How can he adequately portray the 
 sufferings of that sad country when he has never felt 
 her charm? Can he shut his eyes and see the shores 
 
THE DEBATE 233 
 
 of Killarney when the morning sun gilds the rugged 
 slopes of Eagle Mountain? God never made a 
 scene more fair! Can he in his dreams watch the 
 McGillicuddy Reeks fade into the sunset glow? Can 
 he in a vision picture himself walking down the vale 
 of Avoca? Tis the Garden of Eden, gentlemen, 
 and better than the first, since from it holy Saint 
 Patrick banished the Snake ! " 
 
 Shouts of delight went up from the ranks against 
 the wall. Jerry Flynn stood on tiptoe and waved his 
 arms above his head. He had crouched out of sight 
 till now. 
 
 Penrose and Winslow might talk about the Irish. 
 This was Irish. Only an Irishman would have said it 
 like that, with a little surprise at the end, the twist 
 into a laugh. 
 
 " Tis a land where the heart rules the head," the 
 speaker continued. " But such a heart that God 
 himself forgives its mistakes and says plainly try 
 again ! 
 
 " Thanks be to His mercy, the mistake of the revo 
 lutionist is being superseded by the discretion of the 
 reformer ! Tis the revolutionist that should be sup 
 pressed, not the reformer. I will try to tell you why, 
 if you will be patient for a moment. 
 
 " What are revolutionists ? " he pursued thought 
 fully, as if searching his own mind for an answer to 
 the question. " They re the men with the dirk and 
 the bomb wait, wait," for the restless among 
 
234 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the audience began again to stir and mutter. " What 
 are reformers? They re the men with the tongue 
 and the book, with the unsheathed sword, the unaf- 
 frighted front. Aye, gentlemen, suppress the revo 
 lutionists and let the reformers do your work. 
 They re the true lovers of Ireland, the faithful sons. 
 They will obtain for Ireland what she wants, even 
 while they re serving England ! " 
 
 He paused to let them respond, as they did, not 
 vociferously, but with a heartiness which showed their 
 appreciation of what had been said. 
 
 " You can t separate the two countries, gentlemen," 
 he said earnestly. " They are not two, but one. 
 Cut England, and Ireland bleeds. Break a bone of 
 Ireland, and England limps. Stint either, and the 
 other goes hungry. 
 
 " And there s no high and low, this one on top and 
 the other underneath, even in England unless it 
 be perhaps Ireland a little to the good." They 
 laughed. 
 
 " Tis so," he insisted. . . . 
 
 " Who s leading England s armies to-day ? An 
 Irishman, Wolseley. 
 
 " Who was the greatest soldier she ever had? An 
 Irishman, Wellington. 
 
 " Who was her greatest orator? An Irishman, 
 Burke. 
 
 " Time would fail me to tell of the Irishmen who 
 have shaped her language and formulated her 
 
THE DEBATE 235 
 
 thought, of Sheridan and Goldsmith, of Swift and 
 Sir Richard Steele. 
 
 " Gentlemen, don t forget you have a duty to Eng 
 land as well as to the land that gave you birth." 
 
 The gray eyes brimmed over with light and 
 laughter, gazing up at him. 
 
 " Why, gentlemen, I don t know what England 
 would do if half the foremost Englishmen of to-day 
 weren t Irishmen!" he broke out, impelled by that 
 glance. 
 
 Now they shouted till the windows rattled. He 
 could say anything he pleased after that, and he said 
 many things at which he himself wondered after 
 wards, ending with a call for three cheers for Eng 
 land and the English Irishmen. They were given 
 with a will and then the vote was taken. The negative 
 had it, had everything ; their sympathy, their admira 
 tion, their good-will. They crowded up to congratu 
 late him, exchanging jokes as they jostled one 
 another. 
 
 He gave the Richmond Hill people the first chance, 
 turning immediately to Katharine. " What were you 
 saying? " he asked, although she had not spoken. 
 
 " It was delicious," she murmured. " How much 
 of it was true? " 
 
 " All that about the great men," he answered mis 
 chievously. " Didn t you see me look up their 
 ancestry? " 
 
 " But you are you an Irishman? " 
 
236 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " I might be, if I m not." His eyes danced. He 
 had never seemed so accessible, so near. She had 
 never taken such delight in him. To cover it, she 
 turned to Winslow and congratulated him on the 
 successful development of the club. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE BANQUET AT RUBY HILL 
 
 THE editor of a daily paper ought to 
 know which way the cat is going to jump," 
 remarked Penrose sadly to himself, as he 
 walked home after the debate. " But whoever could 
 prognosticate prognosticate s a good word that 
 things would turn out as they did ! " 
 
 He tore up the report of the evening s meeting 
 which had been awaiting the actual event for verifica 
 tion, and wrote another in an entirely different vein s 
 eulogizing Vaughan and the Irish and giving a hu 
 morous account of his own defeat. 
 
 A few days later the cat jumped again, in the 
 same direction and farther. He was waited on by a 
 company of Hibernians, who informed him they were 
 going to give Vaughan a banquet out at Ruby Hill. 
 They wished him to be present and " to write the 
 thing up." 
 
 This was something which Penrose could not af 
 ford to lose. Ricker would be there and would say 
 grace; that alone would be worth the journey. Other 
 Cornishmen besides Ricker and Penrose were invited, 
 to draw the fire of the Irish. It would be a great 
 
 237 
 
238 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 occasion. Penrose equipped himself with writing- 
 pad and pencil and went early to " take it all 
 in." 
 
 The tables, long boards laid on trestles, were laid 
 in the large hall owned by the Miners Union. The 
 banqueters were already in their places when Penrose 
 entered. Ricker and Vaughan were at the heads of 
 the two long tables. The Irishmen were out in full 
 force, " the old residents " dressed in American 
 " store clothes," the " green " new arrivals arrayed in 
 picturesque waistcoats and trousers of varied color 
 and extravagant pattern, brought from the south and 
 west of Ireland. Cornish homespun played a similar 
 part in distinguishing newcomers among the Cornish 
 miners, who were present in large numbers. 
 
 The tables were full. Everyone was in the best of 
 humor, taking hard rubs and giving them with equal 
 good-nature. When Penrose had been directed to his 
 seat and one or two other late comers had drifted into 
 theirs, Ricker stood up and rapped on the table with 
 the handle of his knife. There was instant silence. 
 " Ricker s going to say grace. This ll put on the 
 cap sheaf," his next neighbor whispered to Penrose. 
 
 Ricker ran his eye over the table. There were all 
 sorts of viands to offset the absence of liquors pro 
 scribed by himself and Vaughan alike; but, as if in 
 ironic disregard of his own well-known vegetarian 
 tendencies, someone had set before him on a huge 
 platter a sucking pig, roasted whole, with an apple 
 
THE BANQUET AT RUBY HILL 239 
 
 in his mouth. Ricker saw nothing else. He gave 
 the pig a despairing glance, rolled his blue eyes 
 piously heavenward, clasped his hands and began : 
 
 " O Lord, if Thou canst bless under the dispensa 
 tion of the New, that which Thou didst curse under 
 the dispensation of the Old, if Thy blessing can rest 
 upon that into which, when Thou wast upon earth, 
 Thou didst permit the devils to enter, then do Thou 
 bless this roast-pig ; " he paused, and added hurriedly, 
 " and the other foods provided for us at this time. 
 Amen." 
 
 He sat down amid a hum of approval which, undc-r 
 purely secular conditions would have exploded into 
 handclappings and cheers, and, leaning over the 
 table, called out, " Brother Tregoning, I ll thank yer 
 for that pie ! " 
 
 Cake, fruit, nuts were added to the pie by those 
 who sat near, they, meanwhile, bearing off in triumph 
 the pig; and the merriment began, one table vying 
 with the other in anecdote and witticism, each 
 greeted by roars of delight. 
 
 In the midst of it Vaughan became aware that 
 someone was standing in the open doorway regarding 
 him with fixed, earnest gaze. He looked up and saw 
 Frank Henley. 
 
 With sudden premonition of impending ill, 
 Vaughan sprang to his side. 
 
 Frank had a black-bordered envelope in his hand. 
 He gave it to Vaughan without a word. It was from 
 
240 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the aged pastor at home, who had written on it in his 
 cramped old hand "With speed." 
 
 Vaughan broke the seal and read. Frank watched 
 the color leave his face. Down one page, across an 
 other, darted his troubled glance. He read to the 
 end, then refolded the sheet with trembling fingers. 
 
 " Anyone dead ? " inquired Frank briefly. 
 
 Vaughan bowed, unable to speak. 
 
 " Any of your folks ? " 
 
 " Father and Mother, too! " was the answer, 
 in a low, anguish-stricken voice. 
 
 Frank turned towards the tables where the f casters 
 sat. They had returned, after the imperceptible 
 pause, to the roast-pig and the pies and cakes, and 
 the stories and songs,, Wherever the Parson went, 
 they had said, there was always somebody looking for 
 him. 
 
 " I ll tell Ricker and he can tell them," said Frank. 
 " Go and get ready and we ll go back to town. I 
 came down on Black Birdie. You can take her and 
 I ll get another horse." 
 
 He made his way to the head of the table where 
 Ricker sat and briefly made known to him the nature 
 of the message he had brought. 
 
 Intense sympathy manifested itself in the Cornish- 
 man s rough, kindly face and in his manner, as he laid 
 his big hands on the table and rose to his feet. 
 
 " My friends," he called to the banqueters. " Wait 
 a minute ! " He raised his hand. 
 
THE BANQUET AT RUBY HILL 
 
 " Sorrow lias come to our Brother Vaughan! His 
 father and his mother have both gone hence and 
 have left him desolate! Let us pray ! " 
 
 With bowed heads they sat among their viands, 
 while Ricker poured out his heart in an appeal for 
 help for Vaughan and a lesson for themselves. 
 
 Clement and Frank heard him through, then rode 
 slowly away in silence, as men ride whose hearts ache 
 together. 
 
 The moon was full. In its light the valley was a 
 lake of silver, on whose shores the hills loomed black 
 in shadow. 
 
 Equally bright, equally black, appeared life s 
 contrasts to the young preacher. There was no re 
 conciling them, no taking one to offset the other. 
 Now in the light, now in the darkness, he must go on 
 and on, to the end of the journey. 
 
 He drew rein and turned to his companion. " You 
 see," he said desperately, "there ll be no one now to 
 patch up things with Delia. Mother was going to 
 try to see her. She was going to try to soften 
 her. She had planned to take the journey to Gains 
 borough the next week. I d sent others, the old 
 parson and a friend over there. But the brothers, 
 Dick Forington and John, were insulting. They 
 talked of taking legal steps, to protect her from my 
 persecutions." Vaughan drew his hand over his eyes. 
 
 " If I were you," said Frank deliberately, " I 
 wouldn t think of that now." 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " No," said Vaughan, " I mustn t. It would seem 
 like desecration to introduce that element, of con 
 tention into a grief which God knows is 
 holy!" 
 
 He said no more. Nor did Frank speak until just 
 before they reached Eureka. Then he broke out 
 abruptly, " I ve been thinking, Clem, that you d bet 
 ter keep Black Birdie as long as she s here. I ll 
 speak to Sykes, at the stable, about her board. He 
 owes me and I m not likely to get it except in some 
 such way as this." 
 
 Clement swallowed a lump which came up in his 
 throat and must be gotten rid of before he could 
 answer. The offer was so like that of a boy who 
 tenders top or marbles to ease another boy s hurt. 
 " You re as kind as you can be, Frank," he said with 
 emotion. 
 
 " Nothing of the sort," returned Frank gruffly. 
 " She s eating her head off up in Galena. I ve wanted 
 to get rid of her for some time. I ll speak to Sykes. 
 That saddle you can keep for the present. I ll get 
 somebody to drive me home." 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE LITTLE CHURCH 
 
 THE Sunday Sentinel contained an account of 
 the banquet at Ruby Hill and its sad end 
 ing. Arthur Sinclair read it aloud to the 
 family when they met at the breakfast table. 
 
 " Poor Mr. Vaughan," murmured Miss Emmeline. 
 " I wonder what sort of people his father and mother 
 were ! " 
 
 " He may feel more like making his home in this 
 country, now," said Arthur, folding the paper and 
 laying it on the table. Katharine quietly drew it 
 towards her and reopened it. Her brother watched 
 her, but said nothing. 
 
 "Who is going to church this morning?" in 
 quired Miss Emmeline briskly. 
 
 " It s too hot," exclaimed Mabel. 
 
 " Too hot," echoed her daughter. 
 
 Miss Emmeline frowned. " / shall go, if no one 
 else does ! " she said firmly. 
 
 " So shall /," said Elsie, with a shake of her curly 
 head, so like Aunt Emmeline s gesture that everyone 
 laughed everyone but Elsie s mother, who was ab 
 sorbed in her reading. How very, very strange it 
 was for the news to come thus, in the midst of the 
 
 243 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 gayety ! She pictured to herself the change in him 
 from exuberant high spirits to profoundest mel 
 ancholy. 
 
 He had spoken to her of his mother ; of his father, 
 too, but more often of his mother. She was very dear 
 to him. 
 
 It was only fulfilling the part of a friend to send 
 him a note of condolence. She could give it to Jerry 
 to leave at the study door as they drove by to church. 
 
 " Yes, I m going," she replied to Miss Emmeline s 
 thrice-repeated question ; " of course I m going. I ll 
 be ready before you are." 
 
 As far as her own toilet was concerned she was 
 ready. The note took more time. She regarded it 
 disapprovingly. It had a forced, stilted sound, as if 
 the writer felt insecure, " as I do," said Katharine to 
 herself. " He hasn t appealed to me for sympathy. 
 I m not sure that he wants it. If I could see him, I 
 should know what to say. I wish I could see him! 
 Here we are going away to-morrow, to be gone all 
 summer ; I can t leave in this way, without a word. I 
 must see him ! " 
 
 It was only the natural outcome of this train of 
 thought that, as they neared the Methodist church, 
 instead of handing the note to Jerry, as she at first 
 intended, my lady turned to her companion with an 
 impulsive " Emmeline, I m going to hear Mr. 
 Vaughan preach to-day ! " and to her coachman, say 
 ing, " Jerry, stop at the Methodist church." 
 
THE LITTLE CHURCH 245 
 
 "Katharine!" ejaculated her sister, an expression 
 of dismay creeping over her fine, frosted face, " what 
 will people think ? " 
 
 " I don t care what people think," replied the inde 
 pendent Mrs. Chisholm. " Elsie can go with you." 
 
 " I want to hear C.V. my own self," wailed the 
 daughter of her mother. 
 
 " I shall go, too," said Miss Emmeline desperately. 
 " I could never allow you to subject yourself to crit 
 icism by going alone to hear that man preach. I 
 don t know what Mr. Haverford will think I never 
 did such a thing before in my life but if you are 
 determined to be so rash, so utterly imprudent, I 
 shall go, too." 
 
 So it chanced that those who attended the modest 
 little Methodist church were set agog by the hand 
 some Chisholm turnout drawn up before the homely 
 wooden steps, while two ladies and a little girl in ex 
 quisite summer costume entered the church; and the 
 Episcopalians, a stone s throw away, missed the spec 
 tacle upon which they had feasted half the year. 
 
 Dick Dale, who was acting as usher that morning, 
 blushed up to his closely cropped curls and over the 
 back of his neck, as he saw the strangers approach 
 ing. He conducted them to seats well towards the 
 front, supplied them with hymn-books and fans, of 
 fered to open or shut windows, and wished there was 
 something more he could do, to make them feel at 
 home. 
 
246 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 In spite of the heat the church was filled, and 
 Vaughan did not at first take note of the addition to 
 his flock. But Elsie s little head in its broad-brimmed 
 hat bobbed so persistently to and fro, demanding 
 recognition, that he at last spied them and betrayed 
 the fact by ever so slight a lift of the eyebrow. 
 
 " He saw me, mamma, he saw me, he did ! " pro 
 claimed Elsie in an ecstatic whisper. 
 
 " If you don t sit still and behave I ll take you 
 out," her mother returned with energy, and Elsie 
 subsided. She really had quite enough to occupy her 
 in discovering differences between this church and the 
 one with which she was familiar. There were no 
 stained glass windows here, no carved altar, no shin 
 ing candlesticks and cross ; there were no choirboys 
 in cassock and cotta; even C. V. wore the same 
 clothes that he wore on week-days and spoke in his 
 ordinary tone of voice. It wasn t a bit like a church, 
 anyway, just a big, bare, sunny room, with chairs 
 and a place a little higher up where C. V. sat; but 
 she liked it. So did mamma, she was quite sure. But 
 Aunt Emmeline didn t; she was sniffing away at her 
 vinaigrette as she always did when she didn t like 
 things. Now and then she turned a woe-begone look 
 on her younger sister. Katharine kept her eyes reso 
 lutely before her. " I don t care," she said to her 
 self ; " I knew Emmeline would be perfectly miserable, 
 but she needn t have come " then, with a little, sub 
 dued flutter of nebulous laughter deep in her own 
 
THE LITTLE CHURCH 
 
 inner consciousness, " It is queer, awfully queer. 
 How will he ever contrive to work up an atmosphere 
 without any accessories ? " 
 
 Louise Barker came forward and seated herself at 
 the small cabinet organ. The preacher announced 
 the hymn. Instantly the entire congregation were 
 on their feet, singing away with all their might, 
 because their leader was singing with all his 
 might. 
 
 Then he prayed as if he meant it, and an old gray- 
 haired miner behind uttered a fervent " Amen ! " so 
 loudly that Elsie jumped, and Aunt Emmeline plied 
 her vinaigrette more assiduously than before. Then 
 they sang again. The Scripture-reading should have 
 followed, but as the preacher opened his Bible a 
 harsh, guttural voice called at the open door, 
 " Mushie? " and .down the aisle stalked a big Paiuti 
 Indian, dressed in ragged trousers and a calico shirt, 
 and with a red banda.nna tied around his head. In 
 his hand was a big tomato can filled with mushrooms. 
 This he held out to the preacher, repeating, 
 " Mushie ? Buy mushie ? " disdaining alike the stir 
 of amusement among the less sedate of the congrega 
 tion and the efforts of Dick Dale to seize and put 
 him out. 
 
 For an instant Vaughan looked the embarrassment 
 he could but feel, over such a betra}^! of the secrets 
 of his housekeeping. Then he quietly took the can, 
 saying to the Paiuti, " All right, pay to-morrow," 
 
248 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 carried it into the study and returned to his Bible- 
 reading. 
 
 The Indian stalked out again, indifferent to obser 
 vation as he had been when he entered. The Parson 
 went on with his reading. 
 
 " Was there ever such a man ! " thought Katha 
 rine. " What will happen next ? Are things always 
 happening here?" 
 
 It was certainly a day out of the ordinary, even 
 for the Methodist church and the Sage Brush Parson. 
 As he closed his Bible and prepared to announce his 
 text, little Maud Wellman, restless with the heat, 
 slipped from her mother s arms and darted towards 
 the platform. She had spied a glass of water on the 
 table and, being on the best of terms with the man 
 who stood beside it, determined to ask him for a drink. 
 With the utmost confidence she looked up into his 
 face, pointed with a fat little forefinger at the glass 
 and demanded, in her imperious baby voice, heard 
 distinctly over the church, " Dink, pease! " 
 
 Instantly Clement forgot everything except her 
 child s faith in him, a faith like that he had had in 
 the father and mother he had lost, a faith like that 
 he meant to instill into his people for the Father 
 unseen. 
 
 He took the little girl in his arms. A look of inef 
 fable tenderness overspread his face. " Except ye 
 become as little children," he said reverently, and 
 held the glass to her lips; then, as he set her down, 
 
THE LITTLE CHURCH 
 
 he added, " Whoso shall drink of the water that Christ 
 shall give him, shall never thirst." 
 
 Maud ran back to her mother. 
 
 Elsie, jealously watching the performance, started 
 up impetuously. " I m thirsty, too," she whispered. 
 " Sit down," said her mother sternly, and Elsie 
 obeyed. 
 
 There was a hush of expectancy throughout the 
 church. The congregation felt that something was 
 coming, and it came. Made sensitive to the appeal 
 of the Spirit by his loss and by the night of reminis 
 cence and of mourning, touched by the presence of 
 so many sympathizing friends, including the woman 
 who always understood and was helpful, the heart of 
 the young preacher needed only this last touch to 
 make it overflow. 
 
 Discarding the notes he had prepared, and accept 
 ing as his text the words that the child had put into 
 his mouth, he stretched out his arms with a tender, 
 compelling gesture and bade them come as little chil 
 dren, confident of what they were sure to receive. 
 
 With one of his swift, sudden inspirations, he 
 described their own thirst and their inability to 
 quench it, and pleaded with them, as one who felt 
 their need and longed to satisfy it, to drink of the 
 living water which Christ alone could give. Every 
 atom of him vibrated. He was like a flame. 
 
 The vision passed. The light went out of him. 
 He faltered the final prayer. Many of the congrega- 
 
50 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 tion lingered. A score or more went up to speak to 
 him. Katharine waited for them to be through with 
 what they had to say, meanwhile laying a controlling 
 hand on Elsie and ignoring Miss Emmeline s quaver 
 ing reminder that Jerry and the horses were 
 outside. 
 
 At length the loiterers withdrew, all but Jack 
 Perry, whom Katharine knew only by sight. This, 
 she told herself, would be a good opportunity to meet 
 him and to condescend to the strange world in which 
 the young preacher lived and worked. 
 
 " Stay with auntie, dear," she whispered to Elsie 
 and sailed up to the two men, holding out her hand 
 to the younger. " I came to bring you sympathy, 
 and you gave me inspiration," she said earnestly. 
 
 Vaughan showed his pleasure at seeing her, though 
 he only said, " You are always kind." He turned to 
 introduce Jack. She put out a small gloved hand. 
 " I am very glad to meet so prominent a citizen of 
 Eureka," she said graciously ; " it is strange we 
 haven t met before." 
 
 The big gray man eyed her suspiciously. "Not 
 so strange as our meeting now," he said bluntly. 
 
 She was too well cared for, too well-dressed, too 
 sure of herself. What did she want with the Par 
 son, anyway? Reluctantly he moved away and gave 
 her an opportunity for the private, personal words. 
 
 " You were very kind to come," said Vaughan 
 wistfully. 
 
THE LITTLE CHURCH 251 
 
 " I couldn t keep away," she answered, with a little 
 quick indrawing of the breath. " I am oh so 
 sorry ! " Her voice was low and sweet. 
 
 " I know, I feel it. It is a help," he said with feel 
 ing. " You have been always kind and good a true 
 friend." 
 
 " I am glad you feel that," she returned warmly. 
 " I am going away to-morrow, but I shall think of 
 you often, doing your wonderful work." Her voice 
 sank still lower. " But do be careful ! You give 
 yourself too generously. You are Buddha with the 
 tiger, and I don t believe the tiger appreciates it. 
 I shall want to find you here in the fall when I come 
 back." 
 
 Their hands met again in farewell. Their eyes did 
 not meet: they were lowered, yielding to the inner 
 sight with which at that moment each discerned the 
 other. 
 
 " I must say he s a remarkable preacher," granted 
 Miss Emmeline, as they drove home, " but eccentric 
 is no name for it ! " 
 
 Katharine went to her own room and remained 
 there alone all the afternoon. Elsie, after investiga 
 ting, through a crack in the door, reported that 
 mamma was asleep. There was a stillness, a silence 
 like that of sleep over and around her, but within it 
 she kept vigil with her own thoughts. Late in the 
 afternoon she arose and went to the piano, over 
 which the outline of the Prometheus showed faintly 
 
252 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 in the growing darkness. She played the melody of 
 the little song and sang softly, under her breath, the 
 one verse she had written for it. 
 
 Another verse she added, as she sat there, but this 
 she did not sing, not even under her breath, alone as 
 she was, in the darkness. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 SOBERING OFF A DISTRICT ATTORNEY 
 
 THE summer of 1882 was an unusually try 
 ing one in Eureka. There was a continu 
 ance of hot, dry weather, during which the 
 springs ran low, and there was a great deal of sick 
 ness. Dr. Addison alternated periods of devoted, 
 self-exhausting attention with other periods of 
 drunkenness and incapacity. Dr. Elliott, who came 
 to atone for Dr. Addison s shortcomings, found him 
 self a possible candidate for State senator and was 
 usually away, " laying pipe," when he was needed. 
 Vaughan s services, both as surgeon and physician, 
 were in constant demand. He alone of the three was 
 always ready, always capable and untiring. 
 
 The exalted mood in which he found himself, this 
 summer, had much to do with the efficiency of his 
 work. He seemed endowed with superhuman strength, 
 watched over and supported by angelic intelligences. 
 Did his mother know? he queried. Was she permitted 
 to be near and to assist him? Did the thoughts of 
 that other woman, that living woman with the kind, 
 earnest gray eyes, furnish another factor in his suc 
 cess? Both were, to him, expressions of the great 
 
 253 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Feminine Principle which, at some time in their lives, 
 men of thoughtful, sensitive make are inclined, con 
 sciously or unconsciously, to venerate. For their 
 sake and because of what they stood for, all women 
 became sacred to him. Even the creatures of the 
 street were as battered, disfigured vessels that had 
 once held the holy oil and wine of human joy and com 
 fort. Many a poor wretch watched with dull, glazed 
 eyes his glowing face while he pleaded with her to 
 return to her high office of priestess and queen. 
 Many a dying penitent clung with fever-burned 
 fingers to that long brown hand while he prayed her 
 soul hence to the mercy of the One who waited to 
 receive it. As to the mothers, they told him of every 
 tooth that pricked through, every colic pain, sure of 
 his interest and cooperation. By far the larger 
 share of the new babies that summer reached Eureka 
 under his skillful convoy and solicitous care. He 
 wondered sometimes how it would seem to have a child 
 of his own. It would never be. Delia s persistent 
 refusal to come to him, her return of his letters 
 unread, while robbing him of the past gave him no 
 future, as far as home and wife and child were con 
 cerned. His only future lay in his work. 
 
 It was future enough. The crowding experiences 
 of a year and a half already shut the door on the 
 past and flung open the door of the future, a future 
 in which Delia had no part. The Clement Vaughan 
 who had known and loved her was another man, 
 
SOBERING A DISTRICT ATTORNEY 255 
 
 rather the shadow, the outline, the promise of the 
 man he was becoming, thanks to the work that pressed 
 and crowded and shaped him so that from day to day 
 he felt himself change and grow. A new self-respect 
 had been kindled, a new desire for influence had been 
 aroused. When his opinion was asked, he gave it as 
 having weight and worth. When it seemed good to 
 him to interfere, he interfered. Very little went on 
 in Eureka, of importance, that he did not know of, 
 have a hand in, bring out as he would have it. 
 
 In everything Jack was his staunch ally and sup 
 port. Only these two working together could have 
 saved for Barker his election as district attorney. 
 There was some doubt in both their minds, the night 
 before the administration of the oath, as to whether, 
 after all, it had been a wise thing to do. Jack had 
 come into the study looking exceedingly glum and 
 had rehearsed the plight in which he had found 
 Barker a half -hour before. 
 
 " We done it, you and I," he said dejectedly, " and 
 we ve got to stand to it ; we ve got to see the thing 
 through. If we can sober him off till he takes the 
 oath, I believe he ll keep straight after that. Any 
 way, drunk or sober, I d rather have him than 
 Winslow." 
 
 " So would I," said Vaughan. " There s always 
 more hope for a drunkard than " 
 
 " A cuss! " finished Jack, " and Winslow s the big 
 gest cuss in cussendom." 
 
256 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 "Where is Barker?" asked the Parson. 
 
 " Over at the saloon, locked up in one of the private 
 rooms," replied Jack. " But I can t keep him there. 
 He s at the stupid stage now. When he begins to 
 talk about killing Bill Isham " 
 
 "Who s Bill Isham?" interrupted the Parson. 
 
 " Lord knows, I don t," returned Jack, " nor no 
 one else. But when Barker is just about so drunk 
 he always sets out to kill Bill Isham. When he 
 starts in on that I ll have to take him somewhere 
 else." 
 
 " Suppose you bring him over here," suggested 
 Vaughan. 
 
 Jack s face brightened. " Could you have him 
 here? " he asked. " Twould be quiet and out of the 
 way and you could watch him " 
 
 " Bring him along," said Vaughan. 
 
 Jack went away and returned with what appeared 
 to be a bundle of old clothes, which he dropped into 
 the nearest chair. Out of the bundle popped a straw- 
 colored head, and a pair of weak, watery blue eyes 
 roved aimlessly about the room. 
 
 " Looks like a chicken with the pip, don t he ! " 
 exclaimed Jack in disgust. " Nice figger of a dis 
 trict attorney he is ! " 
 
 " He may come out of it all right by to-morrow 
 afternoon," said Vaughan, whose experience in the 
 past year with " drunks " had taught him to take a 
 hopeful view of such conditions. 
 
SOBERING A DISTRICT ATTORNEY 257 
 
 " Where ll I put him? " asked Jack, looking about. 
 
 " In my bedroom, I suppose," said Vaughan, not 
 overjoyed at the prospect. 
 
 " Where you going to sleep ? " 
 
 " On four chairs. There are plenty of blankets 
 to soften them, and I have two pillows come on, 
 I ll help you." 
 
 They lifted Barker between them ; his nerveless legs 
 dragged helplessly along the floor. 
 
 " Now up he goes ! " cried Vaughan, and they 
 tumbled him on to the bed. 
 
 " It s awful good of you, Parson," drawled Jack, 
 looking down on Barker, who was already slumbering 
 like a child. " If I warn t fixed as I am a married 
 man I d take him in myself. Just sorter tide him 
 over the Bill Isham stage and he ll be easy to manage, 
 after that." 
 
 He said good-night and started for the door, but 
 returned. " If you could contrive to let me know 
 how he is in the morning " he began " I wouldn t 
 want to have him go till he s sure all right. Mrs. 
 Barker Number Two ain t the sweetest-tempered 
 woman that ever was in the world." He took his 
 leave. 
 
 Vaughan stood for some minutes, gazing down at 
 the small, shrunken figure on the bed. Whatever 
 could tempt a man to make such a spectacle of him 
 self ! The relaxed jaw, the parted lips how weak 
 they were ! The little, womanish hands that twitched 
 
258 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 and plucked at the bedclothes their appeal was only 
 to a pity which was more than half contempt. To 
 give up control, to renounce authority over one s 
 self how could anyone be so mad! 
 
 And for what? The temporary gratification of an 
 appetite which was not even thirst. 
 
 Barker, too, a man who had read and thought, who 
 knew human nature, knew his own and its needs, 
 could respond to what was great and fine, who adored 
 his daughter and was by her loved tenderly! She 
 refused to leave him, even when he urged it, and her 
 stepmother made things hard. How could he, how 
 could he ! And now, of all times, when office and 
 honor awaited him! 
 
 Vaughan returned to his desk. At intervals he 
 glanced towards the bedroom, but quiet continued 
 to prevail. He almost forgot his charge, in the book 
 he was reading. 
 
 Suddenly the bed creaked; Barker was awake and 
 struggling to rise. Vaughan went to him and tried 
 to put him back into bed, but Barker pushed 
 him aside, and succeeded in reaching a sitting 
 posture. 
 
 " Pard," he said gravely, " I ve got to kill Bill 
 Isham!" 
 
 "What for?" demanded Vaughan curiously He 
 would really like to know. 
 
 Barker ignored the question. " Got to do it," he 
 said earnestly. "Got to do it. Got to kill Bill 
 
SOBERING A DISTRICT ATTORNEY 259 
 
 Isham. He neither fears God nor regards man. Got 
 to do it. Got to kill Bill Isham." The last words 
 died away in a murmur. The tide of drunken sleep 
 was rising again. He lay down muttering. 
 
 Vaughan watched him for a few minutes and then 
 went back to his desk. 
 
 In another half -hour Barker was up again. This 
 time he plunged wildly forward, and was sitting on 
 the edge of the bed when Vaughan approached 
 him. 
 
 "Got to do it!" he cried. " Got to kill Bill 
 Isham ! " 
 
 He looked imploringly up at Vaughan as the latter 
 bent over him. " What would you do, pard ? " he 
 wailed. 
 
 " I d let him wait," said Vaughan with decision. 
 " There isn t any hurry about it." 
 
 " He neither fears God nor regards man," said 
 Barker solemnly. " If there s anything in this world 
 I hate, it s one thing more n another." He lay down 
 again, muttering, and was once more sound asleep. 
 
 This sort of thing went on, at intervals, all through 
 the night. Again and again, the drugged brain 
 faltered and stumbled and fell back powerless before 
 its self-imposed task. Thought went to pieces before 
 it, action was impossible. Again and again Vaughan 
 strove to fix the floating intelligence which evermore 
 drifted out of his reach. 
 
 " Barker ! " he called, " Barker ! try to come back, 
 
260 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 try to be yourself. Try to throw this off. There is 
 so much at stake." 
 
 If he could reach that thing which stood for 
 Barker s soul, and grasp and raise it, the poor help 
 less body must obey. " Barker ! " he called into the 
 deaf ear; " listen to me! You must, and save your 
 self ! Come up out of those depths and be a man ! 
 Assert yourself! 
 
 " This is your last chance ! If you don t respond 
 to it you will go down to stay there ! Be a man, be 
 a trusted officer of the State! A true friend, a lov 
 ing father! You can do it. You must do it. Think 
 of your daughter! Think of Louise! " 
 
 At length he seemed to grip something and to hold 
 it. A gleam shot from under the purple eyelids. 
 " Where am I ? " asked Barker feebly. " What time 
 is it?" 
 
 " You are in my room. It is six o clock. The bells 
 are beginning to ring," said Vaughan. " Hear 
 that?" 
 
 Father O Keefe had on his little church a chime of 
 bells. Three times a day they rang the Angelus, as 
 now. " Glory be to the Father ! " they rang. 
 " Glory be to the Son ! Glory be to the Holy Ghost ! " 
 It was an innocent, hopeful sound. 
 
 Tears slowly welled up to the red rims framing 
 Barker s blood-shot eyes. 
 
 " Lie down again, and I ll make you some coffee," 
 said Vaughan practically. 
 
SOBERING A DISTRICT ATTORNEY 2(51 
 
 Barker obeyed. 
 
 He took the cup with trembling hands, but they 
 grew steadier as he drank. The light was rising and 
 running down the hill. A bright ray shot through 
 the study windows and lay upon the floor. The tiny 
 coffee-pot bubbled and spluttered over the fire. The 
 fresh morning breeze entered gayly at the windows. 
 It was like coming into port after a night of 
 storm. 
 
 Barker sipped his coffee. 
 
 " To-day has arrived," he said pensively. " Before 
 we begin on it, we d better dispose of yesterday. 
 Off with the old love and on with the new ! " 
 
 Vaughan sighed, in utter discouragement. What 
 did the man mean? Was he still unbalanced? Then 
 what, in God s name, would settle him? Must they 
 give up the fight, after all? 
 
 Barker handed him the cup. Vaughan walked 
 away with it. 
 
 " Come back here," demanded Barker. He 
 fumbled in his hip pocket and brought out a flask 
 half-filled with whisky; this, with a profound 
 obeisance, he extended. 
 
 " The surrendering officer yields up his sword," 
 he said gravely. 
 
 " Wait ! Now, I am going to take the oath." He 
 steadied himself by the bedpost, his face turned 
 towards the window through which the light came. 
 
 " Henceforth, from this day, the tenth of Sep- 
 
262 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 tember, 1882," he began huskily, " I do assume the 
 responsibilities of a citizen," his voice cleared 
 " a friend and and a father, and bind myself to 
 follow a sober, temperate, conscientious life, so help 
 me, God!" 
 
 " Amen ! " said Vaughan fervently, holding out his 
 hand. Barker grasped it, but suddenly let go and 
 fell back on the bed, his forehead bedewed with 
 moisture from the effort he had been making. 
 
 " Are you going to be equal to it? " inquired 
 Vaughan anxiously. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Barker. "A pail of cold water and 
 a towel will complete the cure. I d like to get word 
 to Louise to come over here with my clothes. I d 
 rather not meet Mrs. Barker, at present." 
 
 " I ll arrange that," said Vaughan. He hesitated 
 at the door. Was it quite safe to leave Barker alone? 
 He slipped the flask into his pocket and surrepti 
 tiously locked the door behind him, putting the key 
 into his pocket. In a short time he returned with 
 Louise and the bag. Then he hunted up Jack. 
 
 "All right?" inquired the saloon-keeper. 
 
 " All right," Vaughan returned. 
 
 "You didn t find out who Bill Isham was?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, you won t ; nor will anyone else. Neither 
 will they find out why Barker married Mrs. Barker 
 Number Two ; nor why he sticks to her, now that he s 
 got her." 
 
SOBERING A DISTRICT ATTORNEY 263 
 
 " I hope he ll stick to his oath, as well," mused 
 Vaughan. 
 
 " He will, when he s once taken it," said Jack. 
 
 But Vaughan was thinking of the oath Barker had 
 already taken, standing in the little bedroom, with 
 his face towards the light. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 TIRED 
 
 THERE seemed to be a conspiracy, between 
 the various people who depended upon 
 Vaughan, to keep him from getting any 
 sleep. The night following his experience with 
 Barker was spent with a sick child over on N Street. 
 The next night Mike Flynn came for him. Mary s 
 time had arrived and neither Dr. Elliott nor Dr. 
 Addison could be found. 
 
 " I ll come," said Vaughan, glancing ruefully at 
 the bed which he had not occupied for two nights. 
 " Go right along, Mike. I ll be there almost as soon 
 as you are." 
 
 " Sure, ye will that, if ye take yer ord n ry gait," 
 said Mike admiringly. 
 
 The Parson s rate of speed had been the subject 
 of much comment in Eureka. Bets had been made 
 more than once on the length of time it would take 
 him to get from N Street to the Methodist church. 
 But to-night he lagged. The vim had gone out of 
 him. Only the presence of suffering, the appeal of 
 need, could bring life out of anything so dead as he 
 felt himself to be. 
 
 Once in the midst of the struggle, however, he 
 
TIRED 265 
 
 found resources in himself which availed, and 
 stumbled home at dawn well pleased with his night s 
 work. He flung himself on his bed, dressed, as he 
 was, and slept heavily until noon. 
 
 When he awoke it was with no sense of refreshment. 
 The fatigue, the heaviness which he had held off by 
 sheer force of will during his waking hours had 
 returned during sleep. He could not resist them. 
 He sat up and loosened his collar with an effort, 
 as if he were someone else whom he was trying to 
 revive. The air was stifling. He pulled himself 
 together and went to the window. It was but little 
 better there. He had eaten nothing since the night 
 before, but the thought of food sickened him. His 
 eyes fell on Barker s flask, left standing on his desk 
 since the " sobering off." 
 
 " I suppose a swallow of that would give me a 
 start," he said, smiling at the absurdity of the 
 thought he taking a drink from Barker s flask! 
 " It is more than that I crave, elixir vitce, a breath of 
 the hills. I will go up to Galena." 
 
 He found his way around to the stable and ordered 
 them to saddle Black Birdie. 
 
 " There s something wrong with her," said the 
 hostler. " She s off her feed and kinder droopy. She 
 ain t ben rode enough, but if you re goin fur I 
 wouldn t advise it all to oncet." 
 
 " Very well," said Clement. 
 
 There was no train for Galena until night. Where 
 
266 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 should he go? In his weakness and disappointment, 
 he was very near tears. He did not want Jack, he 
 did not want any man. He wanted the atmosphere 
 only a woman can give. He wanted Mary Henle} r 
 or Catherine Chisholm. She would understand. 
 She would talk to him, play to him, rest him. The 
 family were back. He had caught a glimpse of 
 them, the day before, and they had called out to him 
 and told him to come up and see them. 
 
 With a rush of hopeful anticipation, he set out for 
 Richmond Hill. 
 
 There another disappointment awaited him. 
 Everyone except Miss Emmeline had gone driving. 
 He found her sitting on the veranda, with the inevi 
 table novel. And because, just then, her heart was 
 full of the hero of it, she welcomed him with pensive 
 cordiality. He almost fell into the chair opposite 
 her. She started up in alarm. 
 
 " Mr. Vaughan, you are ill ! Yes, you are. You 
 are ill ! " she cried. " Come right into the house and 
 lie down and I ll bring you something." 
 
 She insisted upon his entering the house and her 
 self shook up the pillows of the couch. 
 
 " Lie right down," she said authoritatively. " I 
 am going to bring you some egg-nogg. No, I won t 
 put anything in it except a little, a very little, 
 sherry. Don t say a word ! " 
 
 She bustled away and soon returned with the 
 draught. So comforting it was, so kind her face as 
 
TIRED 267 
 
 she bent above him, that Vaughan, universal lover of 
 the sex, sent up to her a glance like a prayer, and 
 raised her soft, little, old, wrinkled hand to his lips. 
 She smiled and blushed and would have withdrawn it. 
 
 " Don t go," he pleaded. " Sit here by me." 
 
 "You ought to go to sleep," she said indulgently. 
 
 " I will," he promised, but kept fast hold of her 
 hand. 
 
 So she sat down beside him, her hand still in his, 
 and watched his eyes close, embarrassed, flattered, 
 touched by his dependence upon her, hoping with all 
 her heart that no one would come in and find him 
 there. 
 
 It was the first time she had ever had a fair look at 
 him. What a beautiful white brow he had, but so 
 lined by care and thought, poor fellow ! How heavy 
 his lashes were ! How straight and clear-cut his nose ! 
 She took note of his long, straight body, his slender 
 brown hands, his aristocratic feet! There was 
 family in him, Miss Emmeline decided, whatever his 
 present status. 
 
 She watched him until his breathing grew deeper, 
 more even. He was asleep. She tried to withdraw 
 her hand, but he clasped it more closely, and she 
 resigned herself to the position in which she found 
 herself, half dozing, too, as she leaned back in her 
 chair. 
 
 The door was flung open. Someone entered the 
 shaded room Katharine, of all persons in the world! 
 
268 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Miss Emmeline pulled away her hand. Vaughan s 
 dark eyes opened. He gazed wonderingly up at 
 Katharine. She advanced, stood irresolute, sur 
 prised, amused, not altogether pleased at what she 
 saw. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan asleep on the couch? Holding 
 Emmeline s hand? What did it mean? Vaughan sat 
 up, laughing. 
 
 " Your good sister has wrought a miracle," he 
 exclaimed. " I was a dead man when I came here 
 an hour ago." 
 
 " I m very glad you feel better," said Miss 
 Emmeline primly. " I will ask you to excuse me, 
 now. I have some matters to attend to." She 
 retreated with awkward abruptness. 
 
 Katharine laughed. She was quite reassured now, 
 inclined to be exultant. Even Emmeline, precise, 
 critical, uncompromising Emmeline, could not resist 
 him! Who, indeed, could? 
 
 Vaughan stood up and combed his tangled locks 
 with his fingers. " It was very dreadful of me, 
 wasn t it ! " he exclaimed penitently. " To take 
 advantage of her kind-heartedness! But I was 
 quite fagged out." 
 
 " You are yet," she returned. " Come into my sit 
 ting-room. The children will be here presently. You 
 are not fit to have them pulling you about. Mabel 
 had only two or three errands to do I left them with 
 her they will be here directly." 
 
TIRED 269 
 
 She led the way across the hall to the little sitting- 
 room. He followed contentedly. In every vein she 
 felt his need of her. 
 
 " Si here," she commanded, turning the back of 
 the big lounging-chair to the light. He obeyed, only 
 too glad to be told what to do. But, as he sat there, 
 watching her move about, push a chair into place, 
 adjust a curtain, the melancholy of the mood in 
 which he had awakened at noon returned to him. 
 
 She saw the shadow cross his face. " What is it ? " 
 she asked, drawing a low chair towards him and seat 
 ing herself in it. "What troubles you?" 
 
 " Everything ! " he answered impetuously. " No, 
 you don t," catching the question on her lips. 
 
 " You are tired," she said soothingly. " That is 
 all." 
 
 " Is it not enough? " he asked. " When it means 
 
 exhaustion disheartenment " he turned his head 
 
 away as if he would escape her recognition of his 
 weakness: but her glance followed and found it it 
 was here, she felt, to change into strength. Listless, 
 unresisting, his tired head throw r n back, his tired body 
 limp tamong the cushions, he was hers, to be rested, 
 comforted, uplifted. She could do as she would with 
 him. 
 
 So it has happened to a man before, and will 
 again, when he is tired. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 PROMETHEUS 
 
 I KNEW how it would be," she said softly. 
 It made very little difference what she said, 
 if she could only maintain that calming, quiet 
 ing control. "Don t you remember? I told you* 
 Life is too hard, here, too exacting, too unideal, for 
 a man like you." 
 
 His eyes came back to hers. " For a man like me? " 
 he repeated. " What sort of a man am I ? " 
 
 She did not answer at once. 
 
 " I know why you don t answer," he said mourn 
 fully. " You hate to tell me that I am a failure." 
 
 " A failure! " she exclaimed; " in what way? " 
 
 " In every way," he returned bitterly. " Do you 
 think I cannot see how utterly inadequate I am to the 
 work here? " 
 
 " How can you talk like that? " she cried. 
 
 She threw off her heavy flower-trimmed hat and 
 pushed back her soft bright hair with an impatient 
 gesture. " I will not let you talk like that ! " she said 
 earnestly. " It is false, wrong ! You, with your 
 power ! Your influence ! " 
 
 He shook his head. " A feather s weight against 
 these forces here!" he said dejectedly. 
 
 2TO 
 
PROMETHEUS 271 
 
 " Your eloquence, your apostolic fire ! " she 
 continued. 
 
 He scoffed. " Very pretty, no doubt ! But hardly 
 apostolic ! " 
 
 " Promethean, then." She smiled. " I do think you 
 are more of Olympus than of Sinai." 
 
 How pale he was! How sad the lines about his 
 mouth! How pathetic the appeal in his eyes! She 
 must give back the stir, the sparkle he had brought 
 with him to this dreadful place! Then it had been 
 the music that enkindled him. It should be again. 
 The song, the song, he must hear the song ! 
 
 " You ve never asked for the verses I was to write 
 for your melody," she said, flushing. 
 
 " Did you do them? " he inquired. " Why didn t 
 you tell me ? When was it ? " 
 
 " Almost a year ago," she answered. " Haven t 
 I kept the secret well? Would you really like to hear 
 them ? " She went to the piano and struck a few 
 chords. 
 
 "B flat," he called. "Yes, that s right, that s 
 right ! " He was drumming an accompaniment on 
 the arms of his chair. His lips moved with hers, but 
 it was her voice which sang: 
 
 44 Along the silent ways there came 
 A troubadour, a troubadour, 
 
 " As out of darkness shines a flame, 
 
 And in his hand no harp he bore. 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 He sang of Joy in overflow, 
 He sang the Pain mankind must know, 
 And they who listened to that voice 
 With it did mourn, with it rejoice." 
 
 He was at her side in an instant. " They are one," 
 he said excitedly, " words and notes. You have 
 caught the sound. You have expressed my mean 
 ing! You have told my secret! A troubadour, a 
 troubadour, that is what I am, a troubadour, mas 
 querading as a Priest of God! " 
 
 Startled, confused, she drew back from the instru 
 ment and looked up at him. He was trembling from 
 head to foot. 
 
 " I thought the work was making me over," he 
 panted, " I deceived myself ; I am the same, 
 unchanged. Consecration, endeavor, nothing will 
 change me. I could be seared with hot irons, I could 
 be rent asunder. But it would avail nothing. Under 
 it all, under the affection and sympathy I have had 
 for these people, the desire to help, there has been 
 something in me - " 
 
 He broke away abruptly and walked to the window. 
 
 She turned towards him imploringly. 
 
 " Think, think of the good you have done ! " she 
 ejaculated. 
 
 " What good have I done? " he demanded, "what 
 real, permanent, lasting good? What saloon have I 
 closed? What den have I cleansed? I m kind, I 
 6 mean well, I m a good nurse, but do I convict the 
 
PROMETHEUS 273 
 
 sinner? Do I heal the broken-hearted? Have I sent 
 great searching waves of penitence and resolve 
 through this unholy town ? No ; they come to hear 
 me say startling things! They come to hear me 
 sing ! " He laughed. The bitterness of that laugh ! 
 " Don t," she cried, " I can t bear it ! " 
 "What single life have I renewed?" he went on 
 brokenly, his face still averted. " What one heart 
 have I changed? " 
 
 " Mine," she answered solemnly. " Mine. Wait, 
 there is another verse. I have never sung it, aloud, but 
 I will now, I will now. You shall see, you shall 
 know; it shall be proved to you." Tremulously, 
 catching her breath between the words, but resolutely, 
 she sang: 
 
 " But more than this thou gavest me, 
 
 O troubadour, O troubadour ! 
 All that I hoped and meant to be 
 
 Like flooding wave returns once more. 
 I take the Joy, I dare the Pain, 
 Content to be myself again. 
 Sing on, sing on, as God hath meant; 
 My heart shall be thy instrument!" 
 
 With the last word she was on her feet, confronting 
 him, as he stood facing her. 
 
 Ah, but he was alive now, with the life of stars and 
 suns and wild meteoric flames. All the great vitaliz 
 ing forces of the unseen were gathered into him. Pro 
 metheus, indeed, he was, and no Apostle Prome- 
 
274 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 theus, with the stolen fire stored in his own slender 
 body, a reed that had been shaken by the wind. 
 
 His glowing eyes devoured her. She could feel the 
 tingling touch of his wonderful hands, although he 
 (did not stir. 
 
 " Now, I will be strong in this," she heard him say. 
 His voice thrilled her through and through. Never 
 in all her life of many passionate wooings had she 
 known anything like the presence, the touch, the 
 demand, the response. And yet he had not stirred ! 
 
 "He a weakling!" her heart exulted. "He is 
 stronger than the strongest!" 
 
 He loosed his hold, renounced her, with a long, 
 fluttering sigh. " I must go," he said. 
 
 " I will order the horses and drive you home," she 
 returned, her head high in air. 
 
 He sprang to open the door for her. The gesture 
 was one of adoration. She left the room on wings. 
 
 It was a relief to feel the mouths of the spirited 
 horses champing the bit at the other end of the rein. 
 Some tangible, outward grasp of a life that strove 
 and sped she must have. And with that vibrant pulse 
 beside her, joining her to the pulse of the universe, 
 she journeyed like a star through space. He was 
 not a whit behind her in keenness of realization. 
 Everything had been revealed to him, instantly, with 
 out corner of concealment. He knew the past, its 
 doubts and questions, as he knew himself, now, and 
 this woman beside him. Her hoarded emotions, her 
 
PROMETHEUS 275 
 
 pent-up energies flooded in on him and filled him, 
 all his dry channels and empty spaces, singing as the 
 tide sings when it invades the land. Hitherto she 
 had been, with his mother, representative of Woman 
 kind. Now, he knew her, at last and forever, The 
 Woman. 
 
 At the door of the study he alighted and stood with 
 uncovered head, watching her drive away. Delia? 
 What of Delia? Delia had chosen her own way. If 
 
 she had not ! Let the worlds crash ! In the 
 
 midst of the confusion of the spheres, they two would 
 have met and mingled. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A SURPRISE 
 
 SLEEP was out of the question for either of 
 these two that night. Nor, it must be 
 acknowledged, did either desire it. The 
 minutes were too precious. Every one must be watched 
 and counted. The hour-glass of Time ran gold. 
 They were nearer than when they faced each other 
 in Katharine s little parlor, nearer than when they 
 sat, side by side, driving down Eureka streets. 
 Timidity, reserve, had vanished with physical con 
 ditions. They clasped and kissed each other. They 
 murmured words of blessing and endearment. And 
 all the while the song, their song, went singing its 
 way through heart and brain. " I take the Joy, I 
 dare the Pain!" Katharine repeated. What pain 
 so great as to be an extreme price for such joy? 
 
 To Clement it seemed that he could feel his body 
 lift from the bed where it lay. At dawn he sprang 
 up, light as air, flung on his clothes, and, hurrying 
 through the study into the church, sat down at the 
 little cabinet organ and commenced to play and sing. 
 The small, sedate instrument, which had never 
 responded to any notes more profane than those of 
 
 276 
 
A SURPRISE 277 
 
 " America," gave out a peal of impassioned melody 
 that filled the church. The voice of the singer, sur 
 charged with emotion, thrilled after it. Utterly 
 unconscious was he of anyone s existence save hers 
 to whom he sang: 
 
 "Then take the Joy and dare the Pain, 
 Content to be thyself again! 
 And I will sing, as God hath meant; 
 Thy heart shall be my instrument ! " 
 
 The exultant tones ceased. There was silence in 
 the church, broken by a dry, ironical voice which 
 seemed to drop from the ceiling. 
 
 " Is that a hymn ? " it asked. Jack Perry stood 
 in the doorway of the study, regarding the singer 
 with a keen, searching, critical glance. 
 
 " Not exactly," replied Clement, laughing boy 
 ishly. He arose and stretched himself, flinging his 
 long arms about like a child waking from his nap. 
 " Where on earth did you come from, so early in the 
 morning, Jack? " he inquired lightly, 
 
 "I ll tell you, bime-by," said Jack briefly. "I 
 come over last night, but your light was out and the 
 door locked." 
 
 " I went to bed early," said Clement hurriedly. 
 He was conscious of a change in Jack s attitude, a 
 widening of the space between himself and his friend. 
 Was it because Jack had heard him singing, in the 
 church, words and music such as no one had ever heard 
 
278 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 there before? There is no mistaking the love-call 
 of the male of any species. Did Jack detect the 
 exhilaration, stimulating every sense, giving power 
 to see, to hear, to feel as never before? 
 
 Somehow they appeared to have changed places. 
 It was Jack who said, " Come into the study," 
 Jack who put question after question, his gray brows 
 bent, his steoi-bh-.e eyes looking straight into the 
 glowing dark ones before him, his jaw set, his lips 
 straight as a line. 
 
 " Where was you born, Parson ? " he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Gainsborough, England," was the reply. 
 
 " Did you live there till you come to this country ? " 
 
 " There and in London. What is it, Jack? " 
 
 " You was livin there last? " pursued the catechist, 
 disregarding the uneasiness of the catechumen. 
 
 " Yes. Why do you ask? What do you want to 
 know ? Can t you ask me point-blank ? " 
 
 " No, by God, I can t," groaned Jack. " I thought 
 I could, but I can t. I m hard hit." He looked it. 
 He had aged since he came into the room. The lines 
 had deepened in his face. He was haggard and worn. 
 
 " If it had been anybody else," he said with an 
 effort ; " I know men. That s why I thought I 
 knew you. Here, says I, is a feller that ll show 
 us how the thing s done. Not that we ll ever get 
 where he is, but we can foller on. An I ve f ollered - 
 every step of the way ! " 
 
A SURPRISE 279 
 
 " In what way am I different, now ? " demanded 
 Vaughan. 
 
 " O Lord ! " groaned Jack, and buried his face in 
 his hands. 
 
 Vaughan said nothing. Different! As different 
 as light from darkness, as life from death! It was 
 in the strength of that difference that he denied the 
 right of the old saloon-keeper to question him. 
 
 " Of course we all vary according to our moods," 
 he said with dignity. " We cannot be forever on 
 the heights, at the extreme of tension. We must 
 sometimes descend, relax." 
 
 His manner touched something in Jack which 
 responded like cold iron. 
 
 " This hain t got nothin to do with moods," he 
 said curtly. With an effort he proceeded : " If any- 
 body d told me day before yes day that I d be comin 
 to you on this kind of an errand, I d blown his damn 
 brains out. Even last night I was fixin it up with 
 myself how some things might a happened, blamin 
 everybody but you, but when I come here this mornin* 
 and caught you a-singin like any other feller, an 
 an smelt fire on your clothes! My God, Parson, 
 what are ye? " Jack stood up and thrust his hands 
 deep down into his pockets, as if groping for some 
 hidden support. " What are ye? " he repeated. "I d 
 a sworn ye were one o them Prophets in the Wilder 
 ness, sent by the Old Gentleman, once in a while, to 
 keep up our courage and show us the way out. I ve 
 
280 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 swallered ye whole, until now ; but now, by the Eternal, 
 you ve got to explain ! If you re one o them cusses 
 after women " 
 
 With an imperious gesture Vaughan stopped him. 
 " I refuse to explain ! " he said haughtily. To his 
 mind there w r as but one interpretation of Jack s words. 
 He had seen the parson with Katharine had 
 divined the situation. 
 
 " All right," said Jack grimly, rising as he spoke, 
 " then that Forington woman, over at McClintock s, 
 can go ahead and rouse the town if she wants to. I ve 
 got no more to say." 
 
 He paused on his way to the door, struck by the 
 change in Vaughan. He was like a sleep-walker 
 awakened by a sudden shock. 
 
 "What did you say?" he asked. "A woman? 
 What is her name? " 
 
 " Forington," said Jack distinctly. " I shouldn t 
 have paid no attention to what she said, although 
 she told a straight enough story about Gainsborough 
 and all, but the boy bein the image of you " 
 
 " A boy! " stammered Vaughan. 
 
 " Yes, a yearlin ," said Jack briefly, " an yours, 
 if I m any judge of live-stock; though she says she 
 ain t nothin to you, cept as bein the child s mother, 
 and is here on his account." 
 
 Vaughan put both hands to his head. Here were 
 the worlds crashing as he had defied them to do ; here 
 was the rocking of the spheres ! Upon him, sensi- 
 
A SURPRISE 281 
 
 tive wind-harp, stretched to be breathed upon by Love, 
 came the sledge-hammer blows of Fate. 
 
 The room reeled, desk and chairs and rows of 
 solemn books whirled dizzily around him ; and in their 
 midst Jack s face looked out, small as if seen through 
 the reversed end of a telescope. His voice sounded 
 faint and far away. 
 
 " I m ready to fix up things any way you say. 
 I ll tell the folks what in hell will I tell em? " 
 
 Again the room reeled and in the midst of the 
 crazy dance came whisperings. Why not let it go 
 that way ? Let it be as she had said. She was nothing 
 to him except as the mother of the child! Ah, but 
 the child! His child! His son! His lips stiffened 
 as he tried to answer. 
 
 " The woman is my wife," he said weakly. 
 
 Again Jack s voice sounded, far away, out of the 
 small, elfish face. 
 
 " You don t need to lie, you know. She can be 
 got off somehow. You can pervide for the kid. You 
 ain t obliged to saddle yourself with her nor him. 
 He can be took away." The voice was cold but not 
 unkind. Jack meant to " see the thing through." 
 
 Let her go, urged the whisperings. Now, when 
 Paradise opens before you let her go. You owe 
 that other woman something, that woman with the 
 honest gray eyes ! 
 
 But the child, his child, his son ! And the right of 
 it, the right of it what was the right of it? 
 
282 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Again the room went around, and Jack s face grew 
 small, his voice faint and far away. 
 
 " Parson, you don t need to bluff with me," he 
 was saying. He drew near and laid a great, kind 
 hand on Vaughan s knee. 
 
 " Oh, Jack ! Oh, Jack ! " cried the young preacher. 
 His head was on the big, gray shoulder, the strong, 
 gray arm was around him. The whole story came 
 out from beginning to end. 
 
 " Some of em are like that," was Jack s comment, 
 when he was through. " Contrary ; won t be druv nor 
 led ; but when you ve let em alone a while, they come. 
 Mebby she will. She was pretty cranky, last night. 
 If she hadn t a-fell into my hands yes day afternoon 
 she d hollered the whole thing all over town. But I 
 made her promise to keep still. I took her to the 
 Widder s and told the old gal to make her comfort 
 able. I should a good deal rather took her home, but 
 Lord, Marthy d dug the whole story out of her. The 
 Widder lets her eat separate from the boarders. 
 Well? " There was a world of interrogation in that 
 one monosyllable. 
 
 "I ll be ready to go over there with you in a 
 moment," said Vaughan. He rose unsteadily, grasp 
 ing at the desk. 
 
 "Haven t et a thing, I ll bet!" growled Jack. 
 " Thought so. Set down. I ll make you a cup of 
 coffee and bile you an egg. Set down, I tell ye. You 
 don t mind, wuth a cent ! " 
 
A SURPRISE 283 
 
 Fortified by Jack s appetizing luncheon, offered on 
 the back of an old atlas in lieu of a tray, Vaughan 
 finished dressing and prepared to meet Delia. Jack 
 watched every move, a great and growing tender 
 ness added to the old admiration which had all come 
 back. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 A MEETING 
 
 THERE S one thing," said Jack, as they 
 went down the street in the direction of 
 the McClintock boarding-house. " She 
 see you drivin in with the Richmond Hill woman. 
 But don t you say a word; just let her jaw, if she 
 wants to. She ll get over it quicker, that way." 
 
 Mrs. McClintock opened the door. It was plain 
 from the expression of her face that Delia had kept 
 her promise of secrecy, thus far. She ushered them 
 into what was known as the " front room," while she 
 went to speak to her newest boarder. 
 
 Soon her returning footsteps were heard coming 
 down the uncarpeted hall. There was someone with 
 her. 
 
 " I ll get out," said Jack, and made a hasty exit. 
 
 Clement stood in the middle of the room, his heart 
 beating violently. But the person with Mrs. McClin 
 tock was not Delia. He heard her say good-by and 
 go out. The landlady returned. "Mrs. Forington 
 says she ll be down pretty soon," she announced. 
 " Won t you sit down ? " There was but little curi 
 osity in her manner. It was the most natural thing 
 
 284 
 
A MEETING 285 
 
 in the world that the Parson should come calling on 
 this person who lived where he did, at home. 
 
 Some minutes passed. Vaughan walked up and 
 down the room. His thoughts were now all with the 
 woman upstairs, and with the child. So that was the 
 " surprise " which Delia had in store for him when 
 he should come home at Christmas. Poor Delia, how 
 indifferent, how unsympathetic she must have thought 
 him ! He had made almost no reply, had instead 
 turned to the things which interested him: his work, 
 his future, his plans. Much of her perversity and 
 unreasonableness had been no doubt due to her con 
 dition. And now she had come to him, bringing the 
 boy. He would be very patient with her, very gentle. 
 One swift, sudden thought of Katharine swept him 
 from head to foot. It was followed by an agony of 
 remorse. " God forgive me ! " he murmured. " God 
 forgive me that I forgot! She will forgive me, her 
 life is so full, so rich, she is so complete in herself. 
 She does not need me. She thought I needed her the 
 noble, generous soul that she is ! " 
 
 Quick steps sounded along the hall. The door was 
 flung open. A woman with a child entered. She 
 carried the boy high on her shoulder; with one thin 
 little hand he clutched her yellow hair. She had 
 gained flesh and it became her. Her figure, always 
 beautiful, had rounded into matronly curves. But 
 her large, prominent, blue eyes were hard and cold as 
 they met his. 
 
286 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Howdydo," she said, giving him her hand. 
 
 He stooped and kissed her, on the cheek her lips 
 were resolutely turned away. He tried to take the 
 boy, but with a fretful cry the child flung both arms 
 around his mother and hid his face in her neck. It 
 was the first time a child had ever refused to come to 
 him. Clement bit his lip. 
 
 " That s your father, Hugh," exclaimed Delia 
 ironically. " Haven t much use for him, have you ? 
 Well, well! 
 
 " There, there, don t make a fuss ; you needn t go 
 to him if you don t want to." She seated herself in 
 a large rocking-chair and drew the boy to her knee. 
 He looked out at Clement under a heavy dark lock 
 which tumbled down over his full, white forehead and 
 again hid his face. 
 
 He was very like his father, as Jack had said. It 
 was strange that Mrs. McClintock had not noticed 
 the resemblance. His dark eyes were of the same 
 color and shape ; the oval of his face, the straight 
 nose, the sensitive mouth, were the same. 
 
 Again Clement held out his hands. " Won t you 
 come to me? " he pleaded. But Hugh shook his head. 
 He looked ill ; there were purple shadows under his 
 eyes. His tiny fingers were like a bird s claws. 
 
 " He was sick, coming over," said Delia, putting 
 back the lock of hair. " He hasn t gotten over it. 
 He s a healthy child, usually." Her tone and man 
 ner resented the criticism implied by Clement s 
 
A MEETING 287 
 
 silence. The heart of the father smote him. " He s a 
 fine little fellow," he said gently. " Why didn t you 
 tell me, Delia?" 
 
 " Tell you ! " she ejaculated; " a woman doesn t tell 
 such things to those who are not interested." 
 
 " Not interested ! " He arose and stood over her, 
 looking down on the coils of yellow hair. " How did 
 you happen to come alone? " he asked. 
 
 " I had little Annie Otter with me old Annie s 
 granddaughter," she answered. 
 
 " I m surprised that Richard and John allowed 
 it." 
 
 " My brothers didn t know," she said briefly. " No 
 one knew. I went on a visit to Cousin Sarah and then 
 kept on. I sent back word from the steamer." 
 
 Something very like tenderness went like a warm 
 wave through him at the thought of her setting out 
 alone with the babe and the small nursery maid on 
 such a long, hard journey. A momentary impulse 
 seized him, to take her in his arms, bridge the gulf 
 between them, thaw her, claim her, give himself to her ; 
 but he could not. And this was his wife ! That was 
 their child! 
 
 She glanced up at him over her rounded shoulder. 
 " Sit down, Clem," she said coldly. " There s no use 
 in making a scene." 
 
 " But " his voice sank almost to a whisper. " It 
 is so horrible ! " 
 
 " It s only the natural outcome," she said harshly. 
 
288 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " What can a man expect when he turns his back 
 upon his own? I know you don t see it in that light. 
 You thought it was your duty to come over here and 
 interfere with other people and teach them their duty 
 you and Mary Henley ! You had a 4 call ! Lord, 
 what that means to the people who have to step aside ! 
 How we sinners have to pay for you saints!" She 
 laughed scornfully. He turned from her and walked 
 to the window. When he came back he was calmer. 
 "Why did you send back my letters unopened?" 
 he asked reproachfully. 
 
 " Why didn t you come yourself ? " she demanded. 
 
 "I couldn t leave my work just then. I didn t 
 know " 
 
 " Couldn t leave your work ! " she cried. " You d 
 have found a way to leave it if you d loved me. A 
 man may say what he pleases about his work, the 
 woman he loves can always take him away from it. 
 You never cared for me, Clem, or else " 
 
 " Or else what? Go on," he urged. 
 
 " Or else you re something I d rather not call you," 
 she said slowly. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he asked ; but he knew 
 before she answered, still speaking slowly, with a 
 weight on every word. " I mean that I saw you driv 
 ing with that woman yesterday. You don t need to 
 affirm or deny anything. I know. A woman always 
 knows, if she has lived with a man." 
 
 There was silence in the room. The dinner-bell 
 
A MEETING 289 
 
 jingled noisily. The tramp of the boarders coming 
 in could be heard on the bare floors outside. The 
 child nestled on his mother s knee. She tried to 
 quiet him, but there was no tenderness in her touch. 
 With a fierce, insisting movement Clement caught 
 him from her. The boy screamed and struck at him, 
 fighting like a little, wild, frightened animal. Delia 
 laughed and held out her arms. 
 
 " You d better let us go," she said roughly. " You 
 can t do anything with us." 
 
 "Go where? " he asked, bewildered. 
 
 " I don t doubt you d be well pleased to be rid of 
 us," she pursued. 
 
 He drew up his chair beside her and took her hand. 
 She pulled it away. 
 
 "Delia, what do you mean to do?" he exclaimed 
 in despair. 
 
 " I don t know yet," she answered rebelliously. 
 " I came here to find out. I wanted to see how you 
 felt; and I wanted to see how I felt. I came over in 
 the steamer as Mrs. Clement Vaughan, but when I 
 saw you with that woman, I said again I was no 
 wife of yours. I said it to your friend who was there 
 on the corner. He made me promise not to say 
 anything to anyone else till I d seen you. Well I ve 
 seen you." She laughed. 
 
 Again he took her hand and again she drew it away. 
 " We re not either of us, Hugh or I, just what you 
 want," she said bluntly. " But how can we be? We 
 
290 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 were left to ourselves. You can t get what you want 
 if you don t put what you want into it." 
 
 " That isn t the question," he returned quickly. 
 " I might say the same. I m not what you want. 
 I m quite well aware of that. If you had loved me 
 you would have made an effort to get to me." 
 
 She looked at him, then shook her head. "Oh, 
 that s not the same at all," she said, but she made no 
 attempt to explain why. 
 
 He leaned forward, regarding her earnestly. What 
 was it that had drawn and held him in the old days? 
 She gazed back at him, asking herself the same 
 question. A little flutter of the eyelids, a slight 
 quiver of the lip betrayed that, in her, at least, emo 
 tion was not all dead. He saw, and she knew that he 
 saw, and hated herself and him. 
 
 " What do you mean to do ? " she asked. 
 
 " What can I do, without your cooperation ? " he 
 returned. " I could take a house ; my income has 
 increased sufficiently to warrant that, now " 
 
 " Stay here? " she exclaimed. " Never ! " 
 
 " What would you have me do, desert these people, 
 discontinue my work ? " 
 
 " Your work, your work, forever your work ! " 
 she interposed. " A house of cards. I could blow 
 
 it down with a breath " She blew, as if upon the 
 
 structure she described, and there was a malevolent 
 look in her eyes as if she saw it tumble. 
 
 " Would you do that? " he asked. 
 
A MEETING 291 
 
 " I would," she answered. " See here, Clement 
 Vaughan, we may as well come to the point. If you ll 
 go back to England with me, I ll let bygones be 
 
 bygones. If you won t " She paused and looked 
 
 him over, from the masses of dark hair through which 
 her fingers had strayed in the days of their " sweet- 
 hearting " to the sensitive lips her own lips had 
 pressed, and a spasm of womanly feeling wrung her. 
 " Clem," she whispered, " go back with me ! " 
 
 " Go back, and leave the little church, the little 
 flock, the stir, the struggle, the conquest? Go back 
 to a smug, comfortable, effortless, irksome existence? 
 I can t, Delia, I can t," he said piteously. " You 
 will like it here ; everyone does, after a while." 
 
 " / shouldn t," she said coldly. And he knew that 
 she spoke the truth. 
 
 " And you wouldn t like it, if I was here with you," 
 she added. This, alas, was also true. The chafing, 
 the complaint, the lack of sympathy, the outward 
 rebellion, he could foresee them ; he knew Delia, knew 
 what she would do. 
 
 " I know why you won t go," she said, in a hard, 
 rasping voice. "It s because of that woman; you 
 won t leave her. I ll tell you one thing, Clement 
 Vaughan : if I don t have you, I ll spoil you for any 
 one else. Tell that friend of yours I said so. I 
 promised him I wouldn t say anything till I d seen 
 you. That s off, now! " She arose and lifted the 
 child to her shoulder. 
 
292 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Pleased at the escape from what had been to him 
 a most uninteresting interview, and hungry for his 
 dinner, the little fellow stretched out his thin, white 
 hand in token of farewell. " By-by ! " he called 
 shrilly. " By-by ! " 
 
 Vaughan watched them mechanically as the door 
 opened and closed upon them his wife and child, his 
 wife and child! 
 
 He found his way back to the study and sat there, 
 drained of all strength and confidence, as he had been 
 before, by this same influence. That was why he 
 had shirked it! Was this not an excuse, a pal 
 liation? 
 
 And the other it crept softly back upon him; 
 the tingle of the senses, the rapture of communion. 
 With them came the conviction of wrong, and, to his 
 horror and surprise, intensified the charm ! For the 
 first time, the thought of Katharine Chisholm, of 
 her, the bright shining one, was a temptation ! 
 
 He turned from side to side, like a wild thing 
 caught in a snare. The life into which he was born, 
 the habits of austerity, of renunciation, of sacrifice, 
 to which he had been trained, which he had voluntarily 
 assumed, strove with that other inheritance of an 
 earlier generation, the abandon, the delirium. 
 
 " O God ! " he cried ; but it was as Lucifer might 
 have cried, in vain, rebellious protest. 
 
 Did they feel like this, the men whom he had so 
 lightly condemned? Was the unlawful to them a 
 
A MEETING 293 
 
 thing to defy Heaven for, to risk Hell? Then why 
 call on God? 
 
 Jack s question recurred to him, " What are ye^ 
 Parson? " What was he indeed? No saint, for all 
 his strivings and prayers, his deeds of charity, his 
 hours of holiness, but a man, swayed by passion, 
 subject to temptation, a bruised reed, smoking flax! 
 But the bruised reed would not be broken, the smoking 
 flax would not be quenched with every temptation 
 was promised the way of escape ! He must, he would 
 find it! 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 EUBEKA CHANGES FBONT 
 
 THERE never was anything quite so home 
 sick and forlorn as Annie Otter. She had 
 cried until her little peaked nose was as pink 
 as the raspberries growing in her grandmother s 
 garden at home; her bulging blue eyes looked as if 
 they had been stitched in with red worsted. " H I m 
 goin back ome," she confided to the yellow dog, him 
 self a stranger in town, left behind by one of the 
 boarders, possibly as hostage for the board-money 
 still owed to Mrs. McClintock. 
 
 The yellow dog nestled against her skirts. He 
 knew what it was to be homesick and forlorn. He 
 looked sympathy and commiseration out of his cinna 
 mon-brown eyes, and whined. They two were on the 
 back stoop, awaiting the last call to dinner, while 
 Annie s mistress talked with her man, who wasn t her 
 man any more; neither was Annie to call her by his 
 name when they d come all this way to find him! 
 Oh, it was dreadful, and shocking, and impossible to 
 be borne ! " H I m goin back ome," said Annie 
 Otter. 
 
 The boarders clattered out and down the front 
 
 294 
 
EUREKA CHANGES FRONT 295 
 
 steps. One or two of the younger men called across 
 the yard to her : 
 
 " Hi there, Posy ! " 
 
 " Don t cry, Sissy. Tain t as bad as it looks ! " 
 
 " Wait till the clouds roll by, Mamie ! " 
 
 Annie Otter bolted for the kitchen, the yellow dog 
 at her heels, and collided with Mrs. McClintock on 
 the way to the back stoop. 
 
 "Did Mrs. Vaughan send f me? " Annie asked, 
 then clapped both hands over her mouth. 
 
 " The Widder " j umped. She had heard agitated 
 voices in the front room, had divined that this was 
 no ordinary call, but such a revelation went beyond 
 the wildest conjecture. 
 
 " No, Mrs. Vaughan s still a-talkin with him," she 
 said cunningly. " S-sh don t say a word. The rest 
 of em ain t to know." 
 
 Annie s look of wretchedness changed to one of 
 relief. It was such a comfort to have someone else 
 in the secret ! A secret unshared is the most hopeless 
 form of solitary confinement. "Baby there, too?" 
 she queried. 
 
 " Course ! " replied Mrs. McClintock. " His 
 f ather d want to see him. There, he s a-goin , now ! " 
 She scuttled away in the direction of the front room. 
 Her heart was in her throat, but if it choked her, she 
 must avail herself of the opportunity that Fate had 
 put into her hands. There was still that old score 
 over Dick Dale to be wiped out, to say nothing of 
 
296 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 the countless occasions when the Parson had shown 
 his dislike of her and his contempt. She hurried into 
 the hall. Delia was already halfway up the stairs 
 with the child. The Parson had gone ; he had 
 escaped, but his wife was at her mercy. 
 
 "What s your hurry?" she called familiarly. 
 " Why didn t ye ask your husband to stay and eat 
 dinner with ye? " 
 
 Delia looked down over the bannister. Her face 
 was white. Should she deny her true relationship to 
 Vaughan before this woman? Whiter yet she grew, 
 but she did not speak. 
 
 " Ye oughter kep yer husband to eat with ye ! " 
 repeated the landlady. 
 
 Tell that hard-featured, mocking creature that she 
 was not Clement Vaughan s wife? Impossible! 
 
 " He was in a hurry this noon. He will be in 
 again, later," she said loftily, and, wrapping her 
 dignity of married-womanhood about her, went on 
 to her room. 
 
 Very soon after she had entered it there came a 
 tap at the door. " I don t wanter entrewed," said 
 Mrs. McClintock, entering, " but I was thinkin 
 p r aps you d like somethin different for dinner. The 
 rest of us had pigs feet." She seated herself in a 
 rocking-chair and rocked to and fro. 
 
 " It makes very little difference what I have," 
 snapped Delia, "so I am allowed to eat it alone and 
 in peace. Tell Annie to bring the baby s milk, and 
 
EUREKA CHANGES FRONT 297 
 
 a cracker, and be quick about it!" She opened the 
 door into the hall. 
 
 " My, but she s a Tartar ! " commented the land 
 lady, descending the stairs. " I guess he s got his 
 dose, all right, without any help from me." 
 
 She found Annie and delivered her over to her 
 mistress, to be dealt with as Delia saw good, then 
 threw a shawl over her head and went out the back 
 way through the alley to Mag Reddy s. 
 
 To her, with voluble comments upon the story, she 
 handed the torch. Mag handed it to Billy, her man. 
 Billy took it to Jackson s saloon. Before midnight 
 the conflagration had spread from the Geiger Grade 
 to Richmond Hill. 
 
 It was Mrs. Wellman who ignited Miss Emmeline, 
 seeking her out for that purpose as she sat alone 
 in the library, reading. Katharine was in her own 
 room, playing softly to herself on the piano. The 
 rest, save the children, who were in bed, had gone 
 to one of the infrequent dramatic performances given 
 by traveling companies in the town hall. 
 
 " I never was so upset in all my days," said Mrs. 
 Wellman, when she had repeated what Mr. Morgan 
 said that Mrs. Barker said that Mrs. Jackson said 
 her husband told her. " And Shed s out of town, as 
 he always is when there s anything going on. I just 
 had to talk to somebody, so I come over here. Shed 
 fairly worships the ground that man walks on. I 
 don t know what on earth the church ll do. I sup- 
 
298 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 pose it ll go to pieces again. The Superintendent of 
 Missions ll have to take it up. He sent him here." 
 
 " Has anybody seen her? " asked Miss Emmeline, 
 in hushed, awed tones. " The woman, I mean." 
 
 " Mrs. Morgan thinks she saw her, the day she 
 came, standin on the corner in front of Jack Perry s 
 saloon, talkin with him, with the child in her arms. 
 Just think, a child! " 
 
 " But if she s his wife " suggested Miss Emme 
 line tamely. 
 
 " But they say she ain t," exclaimed the visitor. 
 " First, she said she was, then she said she wasn t. 
 Anyhow it looks queer, his not saying a word all this 
 time." 
 
 "Yes, it does," said Miss Emmeline. The vague 
 doubts and suspicions which the young preacher had 
 aroused in her upon his arrival returned. 
 
 No wonder he made her feel queer. What would 
 Katharine say? She listened absent-mindedly, while 
 Mrs. Wellman went on repeating gossip, hearsay, and 
 supposition. Now and then she interjected a sym 
 pathetic or encouraging exclamation. 
 
 " I must go ! " said Mrs. Wellman at length. 
 Miss Emmeline watched her down the steps, off into 
 the velvety October darkness. There was a damp, 
 unwholesome odor of decaying vegetation in the air. 
 Her delicate nostrils quivered before it. It somehow 
 seemed related to the story she had heard, an atmos 
 phere to be avoided, to guard one s self against. She 
 
EUREKA CHANGES FRONT 299 
 
 instinctively laid about her for a protecting counter- 
 influence. Katharine ought to know, anyway. She 
 tiptoed across the hall and rapped at the door of the 
 little sitting-room. 
 
 Katharine sat before the piano, dreamily fingering 
 the keys. Her heart had been filled with strange, 
 changing emotions since dawn. The sleepless night, 
 the intoxicating consciousness of a presence that en 
 folded and claimed her, had carried her through the 
 morning hours in a sort of rapturous dream. Then 
 had come the reaction, the loss of the presence. She 
 had dropped to the hard earth, filled with vague 
 terrors, questions, doubts. In this mood she had 
 wandered about all day and had finally turned to the 
 little song for comfort and support. 
 
 " I take the Joy, I dare the Pain ! / dare the 
 Pain!" she had sung over and over to herself. Of 
 course there must be pain, there must be hurt ; nothing 
 so great as this could be had without a price. Life 
 was life, the world was the world. 
 
 "He sang the Pain mankind must know." Was 
 he suffering now, as she suffered? There was comfort 
 in the thought; that, too, induced companionship, 
 brought him near. 
 
 The rap at the door aroused her. She turned wide, 
 startled eyes upon her sister as Emmeline entered. 
 
 " Did you say Come in ? I wasn t sure," Emme 
 line began plaintively, then plunged at once into the 
 middle of her tale. " Oh, Katharine, I don t know what 
 
300 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 you ll say! I have such a dreadful piece of news for 
 you ! Something perfectly awful has happened ! " 
 
 Katharine sprang to her feet, recalling her fore 
 bodings. "What has happened?" she cried. "Is 
 anyone hurt dead? " One never knew what might 
 happen in Eureka. 
 
 " Worse than that ! " returned Miss Emmeline 
 solemnly. She seated herself in a straightbacked 
 chair, herself as straight and unconforming. 
 " Katharine, you know I never did believe in that man 
 as you did!" 
 
 " You mean Mr. Vaughan," said Katharine. She 
 resumed her seat at the piano. Here were more pre 
 posterous stories, evidently. u Has Mr. Haverford 
 been here? No? Mr. Winslow, perhaps? Who has 
 been so kind as to bring you the latest gossip about 
 Mr. Vaughan?" 
 
 " You won t speak like that when I tell you what 
 Mrs. Wellman said. Yes, it was Mrs. Wellman her 
 self who told me. She got it from the Morgans, who 
 heard it direct from Mrs. Barker, and she heard it 
 from " 
 
 " Never mind whom she heard it from," interrupted 
 Katharine impatiently. " What did she hear? " 
 
 " She heard," said Miss Emmeline, dragging her 
 words out with irritating deliberation, " that a 
 woman and child have come out to him from where he 
 lived in England " she paused. 
 
 Every particle of color had left the bright face 
 
EUREKA CHANGES FRONT 301 
 
 before her. Only the eyes, black with intensity of 
 emotion, transfixed her where she sat. " A woman? 
 And a child? " repeated Katharine. 
 
 " Yes, a woman and a child. First she said she 
 wasn t his wife and then she said she was. Anyway, 
 he s been to see her, at the McClintock boarding- 
 house; was there for hours, this very morning " 
 
 " This very morning? " repeated Katharine. This 
 very morning, when she had dreamed herself into his 
 arms ! 
 
 " And the child, everyone says, is the image 
 of him. The woman is quite good-looking, a blonde," 
 finished Aunt Emmeline. " To think that I ve let that 
 man hold my hand and go to sleep the way he did ! " 
 
 Katharine laughed, a wild, hysterical laugh, then 
 drew a long, sobbing breath. 
 
 " Emmeline," she said sternly, " did Mrs. Well- 
 man feel sure that this " 
 
 " Sure? Do you suppose Mrs. Wellman, of all 
 women in the world, would come over here, all upset 
 as she was, if the story wasn t true? You know how 
 the Wellmans have felt about him. She was wild! 
 Don t look like that, Katharine ! I should think you d 
 be glad you d found him out. Don t look like that ! " 
 
 " How do I look ? " asked Katharine. 
 
 " Oh, I can t tell you as if you had lost every 
 thing." Miss Emmeline stretched out her small, 
 jeweled hands in protest. 
 
 " I have," said Katharine, speaking as if to some- 
 
302 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 one far away, out of sight ; " lost everything, all faith 
 in God and man. I have said of him, He makes me 
 believe in the Immaculate Conception. He is what 
 Christ would have been with a human father. His 
 is the realization of the sins of the world which he can 
 not take away, the burden of the sorrow of the world 
 with which he is afflicted and which he cannot 
 remove! He bears in his body the marks of human 
 suffering. He is one of those on whom the stigmata 
 are to be found. They are in his face, his manner, 
 the intonations of his voice " 
 
 Here Miss Emmeline, who had broken in, every 
 now and then, upon the impassioned words, with little 
 cries of expostulation, cried out : " Katharine, I beg 
 of you, don t blaspheme! " 
 
 " Is it blasphemy to tell the truth? " inquired 
 Katharine, still speaking in that far-away, dreaming 
 voice. " I m only saying it because I must say it to 
 someone. And you won t tell; you won t even take 
 it in." 
 
 " Of course I won t tell," said Miss Emmeline with 
 energy. " I wouldn t for the world have anyone know 
 that you ever said such things ! How you ever 
 thought them is more than I can comprehend. But 
 you always did have such an imagination ! " 
 
 Katharine turned away with an impatient gesture. 
 " Would you mind very much, Emmeline," she said 
 with an effort, " if I asked you to go to bed now and 
 leave me alone? " 
 
EUREKA CHANGES FRONT 303 
 
 " Why, no," said her sister amiably. " There 
 come Arthur and Mabel and Ned." 
 
 She hurried out into the hall. Katharine could 
 hear her exclaim and question, could hear Arthur s 
 low reply. Emmeline had asked him if he knew. He 
 had answered yes. They all went into the room 
 opposite for a consultation. They were asking 
 Emmeline how she, Katharine, " took it." They 
 would wonder what to say to her or if they should 
 ignore the topic altogether. She would have to meet 
 them in the morning, knowing that they knew, and 
 they would know that she knew. And there was so 
 much more behind which they did not know, but of 
 which she would be conscious : her blind faith, her 
 unqualified surrender, her agony of humiliation. 
 
 Why did he not tell her, if the woman was his 
 wife? Was she his wife? 
 
 Why did he lie what had he done? She had 
 taken the initiative, from the time he brought Elsie 
 home. From beginning to end it had been her doing, 
 hers alone. He had even evaded her. She had fol 
 lowed, invited, encouraged, overwhelmed him. She 
 would have made him a king in the dazzled eyes of 
 Eureka: instead he was to be scorned here, sneered 
 at there she saw it all plainly. His name would 
 become a byword, a jest, in the saloons and dance- 
 halls and dens: not that his experience was a new 
 thing to them, but because of the high stand he had 
 taken. 
 
304 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 He could not meet it, he must not. There was no 
 tact, no resource that could combat such a condition. 
 He could not not now outwit, overcome his 
 enemies; charm, convince his friends. He must go 
 away. 
 
 Would he? It was not like him. It was more like 
 him to stay in the changed Eureka, a coarse, cruel 
 Eureka, a place he had not known till now. Through 
 all the indignation and hurt and soreness which filled 
 her crept unnamed terrors, apprehending tragedies 
 to come. 
 
 The man through whom she had been humiliated 
 and wounded went obstinately on, as she had foreseen 
 that he would do, making his daily morning call upon 
 his wife and child, pleading with the woman, coaxing 
 the child. Sometimes they seemed on the point of 
 yielding. The woman softened, the child smiled. 
 Then, with a common impulse, they turned their 
 backs on him. He no longer attempted to study or 
 write. Each day was begun with uncertainty, ended 
 with dismay. 
 
 He was weakening, Delia saw plainly. Another 
 turn of the screw and the thing would be done. When 
 she had him safely back in England she would be 
 " good " to him. He was already beginning to see 
 this place through her eyes. 
 
 It was indeed a different Eureka that he saw. He 
 no longer went gayly forth to meet it, amused by its 
 
EUREKA CHANGES FRONT 305 
 
 crudities, tolerant of its faults, welcoming its whim 
 sical advances, touched by its unexpected kindness. 
 
 The crudities were coarse, brutal even. The 
 faults paraded themselves openly ; and there were no 
 advances, the kindnesses had ceased. Eureka had 
 changed front. When it dealt with him at all, it was 
 roughly, familiarly, in a manner very different from 
 its former obsequiousness. 
 
 Well, what of that? He was no better than other 
 men; he asked no better treatment. He had never 
 demanded homage to " the cloth." He was willing 
 to be judged as a man. That they should forget 
 how he had served them, night and day, at any cost, 
 with prodigal expenditure of strength and time 
 ah, well, let it go. He had not asked for apprecia 
 tion or gratitude. There was the thing to be done 
 and he had done it. 
 
 But it was hard that the only places in town where 
 he now felt at home were the little church with the 
 study where he slept, when he slept at all, and the 
 McClintock boarding-house, where Delia continued 
 to conduct her experiments. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT OF MISSIONS 
 
 IT was pitiful to see the little church go down. 
 The first Sunday the Morgans stayed away; 
 the next, Mrs. Wellman and Tom and Maud. 
 After that, most of the women dropped out. Shed 
 kept on. So did Jo and Tim Noonan and the 
 other miners. So did Dick. Jack came more 
 regularly than ever. Barker manifested a sudden 
 zeal which was evidently designed to atone for 
 the absence of his daughter Louise from the 
 organ. There was no one else who could play, so 
 the preacher became again the organist, as during 
 the first Sundays after his arrival. 
 
 He appeared not to notice the dwindling of his 
 congregation. His cheerfulness and patience were 
 indefatigable. He continued to preach with fervor, 
 to pray as if speaking to One who heard him; 
 and he sang with a melancholy sweetness which 
 brought moisture to the eyes of more than one of the 
 rough men present. 
 
 As luck would have it, even these pitifully few 
 adherents lessened. Shed was obliged to go away 
 
 306 
 
A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT 307 
 
 on business. This was early in November. The tenth 
 of November the Superintendent of Missions was due, 
 on his annual visitation. 
 
 He had left Eureka till almost the end of the tour, 
 promising there to comfort himself for the disap 
 pointments and discouragements encountered else 
 where. He had been kept informed by Frank Henley, 
 until within the past six weeks, on the subjects which 
 Vaughan was too modest to mention ; had been told of 
 the " dare," of the debate, of other victories achieved 
 by Vaughan. He stopped at Galena on his way, but 
 Frank confessed he had heard nothing from Clement 
 for over a month. 
 
 " I haven t even had a Sentinel from him," said 
 Frank. " I d promised Mary to go over if I didn t 
 hear soon. Tell him so. Tell him I ll be over, some 
 time next week." 
 
 " I ll do so," said the Superintendent, and rode off 
 into the gray autumnal landscape. It seemed to open 
 and close upon him. Over him brooded a dull sky. 
 Around him the outlines of the mountains were dis 
 solved into soggy masses, without form or strength. 
 From an indistinguishable hiding-place in their dark 
 sides emerged a band of coyotes that followed him, 
 at a respectful distance but near enough to give him 
 an uncomfortable sense of being watched and 
 shadowed. 
 
 The gray of the sage brush was grayer than its 
 wont. The rain had made the roads heavy. Where 
 
SOS THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 he crossed the alkali flats every footprint of his horse 
 filled with the ooze of the hideous, yellow alkali 
 water. 
 
 John Harman was not in a frame of mind to resist 
 the somber influences of the day and the scene. 
 Wherever he had been he had found aff airs in a more 
 than usually depressing condition. One preacher 
 drank, another was lazy. Most of his missioners were 
 men of conscience ; but they were not men of ability. 
 The shrewdness, the snap, the endurance seemed to be 
 all enlisted on the other side. 
 
 Thank Heaven there was Vaughan! Would that 
 there were more like him ! Some of the younger men 
 must be sent down to Eureka to see how Vaughan did 
 his work. Eureka could be handed over to one of 
 these neophytes and Vaughan could be sent to start 
 another mission. There should be one at Elko. He 
 would talk the matter over with Vaughan and see 
 what he thought. 
 
 It was afternoon when he drove up Richmond Hill 
 and halted at the Wellmans , where he always stayed. 
 Tom and Maud ran out to meet him; their mother 
 followed slowly. 
 
 She was a tall, angular woman of New England 
 ancestry. Shed, who was born in the Middle West, 
 declared " that was all that ailed her." When she 
 had scruples and convictions, or, as he said, " bore 
 down" he would exclaim " There you go, Sarah ! 
 Plymouth Rode! I d have it cut out!" But she 
 
A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT 309 
 
 was a good woman, a kind woman, and upon that very 
 foundation-stone of her character which was some 
 times a stone of stumbling to her easy-going hus 
 band he leaned perpetually. The only time of weak 
 ening he had ever known in her was when she had 
 learned, during his absence, of the advent of the 
 woman and child from England, and in her per 
 plexity and worry had flung herself and her confi 
 dences upon Miss Sinclair. 
 
 " It warn t a bit like her," he mused. " She must 
 have been pretty well upset." 
 
 Her demeanor, to-day, when she met the Superin 
 tendent, showed that she was not yet mistress of her 
 self. He noticed it, being in the habit of noticing 
 the mental condition of those he had to deal with, but 
 attributed it to anxiety over the burden of entertain 
 ing him during Wellman s absence. This was indeed 
 the subject of her first comment. 
 
 " It does seem," she said earnestly, " as if Shed was 
 always out of town when folks come. He says he ll 
 be back to-night. You ll stay over night?" Reas 
 sured on this score, her mind reverted to the other 
 topic, never far from her consciousness : " He s 
 always away when things happen. That s the way it 
 was when the trouble came." 
 
 " Trouble ? " repeated Harman, looking puzzled. 
 
 " Oh, dear, hain t you heard ! " sighed Mrs. Well- 
 man. "Have I got to be the one to tell you? 
 Warn t there nobody to tell you but me ? " 
 
310 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " I came directly here," said Harman. " I thought 
 I wouldn t go to the church until later. I wrote 
 Vaughan to that effect. I hadn t heard from him, 
 directly or indirectly, for some weeks, but he knew I 
 was traveling about does the trouble concern him? " 
 For a pained look had stolen over Mrs. Wellman s 
 face at the mention of Vaughan s name. 
 
 Sarah Wellman choked and swallowed before she 
 answered, " Yes, it does." 
 
 " Is he ill? Hurt? Hasn t he paid his bills? Has 
 he been getting into bad habits ? " 
 
 " I m afraid he got into them before he came here," 
 she blurted out. "I can t tell you I can t do it. 
 There s Mr. Wilkins coming up the road. Tommy, 
 run and ask Mr. Wilkins to step in a minute." She 
 turned to her guest. " I m goin to see about dinner. 
 He ll tell you all you wanter know." 
 
 A few searching questions brought out the whole 
 story from Ned. He believed Vaughan had told 
 the truth, but of course things were in an awful 
 mess the church had very nearly gone to 
 pieces. 
 
 " You know how people are ; they re like sheep," 
 said Ned. " They piled in there, the church wouldn t 
 hold them. Now they ve all gone the other way. I 
 can understand how Vaughan couldn t talk about his 
 troubles when he came here. It was perfectly natural 
 for such a sensitive fellow as he is to say nothing, 
 and go along about his business." 
 
A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT 311 
 
 " His friends at Galena knew nothing about this," 
 said Harman. " They said they hadn t heard from 
 him or seen a newspaper for a month. I haven t." 
 
 " There was nothing in the papers," said Ned 
 quickly. " That was the way Penrose showed his 
 friendliness. There are a number of us who still 
 believe in Vaughan but of course this thing is bad 
 for the Church." 
 
 " It s ruinous! " said Harman. 
 
 He ate his dinner in silence, and as soon as he had 
 swallowed the last mouthful immediately left the 
 house. 
 
 Vaughan was waiting for him in the doorway a 
 somber figure, with restless eyes which burnt 
 themselves into Harman s memory. He had outlived 
 the period of heroic endurance, exhausted his patience. 
 He was a man at bay, fighting with his back against 
 the wall. Harman s first words were not calculated 
 to soften the situation. " I am surprised and 
 shocked," he began weightily, " to find what do 
 I find?" 
 
 " I m here," said Vaughan flippantly, " and so is 
 the building. That s about all. Come in." He led 
 the way to the study. Harman followed and seated 
 himself ponderously in the chair before the desk. He 
 whirled halfway around and took an ivory paper- 
 cutter from the desk to occupy his nervous fingers, 
 before he continued. He was not pleased with 
 Vaughan s manner. 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Of course," he said formally, " you cannot go on 
 like this." 
 
 " What do you want me to do? " inquired the young 
 preacher. "What do you think I should have done 
 in the first place ? " 
 
 The Superintendent cleared his throat once, twice. 
 " Well, as to that," he began hesitatingly, " The 
 ah secrecy - " 
 
 " What secrecy ? " demanded Vaughan. " No one 
 asked if I was married. I did my best to bring about 
 a reconciliation. Nothing would serve except to 
 throw up my work here and return to England." 
 
 " That," said Harman positively, " is what you 
 should have done ! " 
 
 Vaughan stared. Then he burst into a loud laugh. 
 "Perhaps you think I d better return to England, 
 now ? " he queried. 
 
 " I do," said the Superintendent. " I do, most 
 assuredly." He beat the air with the paper-cutter, 
 measuring off his words. " The reputation of a 
 clergyman is something that cannot be tampered 
 with." He paused and again beat the air. " Once 
 gone, it is gone forever; it cannot be recovered. It 
 makes no difference how innocent a man may be, if he 
 has placed himself or been placed in a position to 
 bring disgrace upon the Church, there is nothing to 
 do but open the door - " 
 
 " And kick him out," finished Vaughan. " I see. 
 But what if I refuse to be kicked out? " There was 
 
A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT 313 
 
 an ugly look in his eyes. The Superintendent evaded 
 them. " Mr. Vaughan, we don t want any trouble 
 with you," he said distantly. " If it s a question of 
 money 
 
 " I don t want a cent of money from the Mission," 
 broke in Vaughan, " I never have wanted it. From 
 the day I came to this pauperized, impotent organiza 
 tion I ve taken care that it should not come back to 
 the Mission. I ve paid off its debts, made it self-sup 
 porting you know what I ve done ! " 
 
 " Ye-es, I know that you ve done remark-a-bly 
 well," said the Superintendent. " But now " 
 
 " Now, I m under a cloud," said the young 
 preacher earnestly. " But you know how these people 
 are. They change in a moment. They are liable to 
 come trooping back to-morrow. It s the fashion just 
 now to stone me. It has been the fashion to make an 
 idol of me." He smiled, actually smiled as he added, 
 " It may be again." 
 
 Harman shook his head. " It would not be well 
 for the Church," he said magisterially, " to hold 
 lightly a matter of this kind. We cannot ignore, 
 pass over this complication. It would have a bad 
 effect upon our authority. It would never do." 
 
 The ugly look came back into Vaughan s eyes. 
 
 " You mean that you want me to get out? " he 
 inquired harshly. " Is that it ? " 
 
 Harman nodded, once, twice, thrice. " That s it ! " 
 he said coolly. " For the good of the Church." 
 
314 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " For the good of the Church? " repeated Vaughan 
 desperately. " Is it for the good of the Church that 
 a son who has loved and served her with all his heart 
 shall be disowned and exiled because, forsooth, he 
 has loved and served her above all else, and to his own 
 undoing? Is that for the good of the Church? " 
 
 " Something must be conceded to appearances," 
 said the Superintendent sharply. 
 
 " Concede it, then, by all means ! " cried Vaughan, 
 towering above him, and lifting his long arms as if to 
 call the unseen hosts to witness. " Concede it ! Con 
 cede me! But when we meet before high Heaven, 
 John Harman, you will have to concede something to 
 reality, and it s pretty sure to be the small, skulking, 
 pettifogging soul in that big, comfortable body of 
 yours ! " 
 
 Harman started up in alarm. Had his troubles 
 driven the young man mad? Like a maniac indeed 
 Vaughan seemed, his thick, black hair tossed about his 
 white face, the unfathomable depths of his large, dark 
 eyes opening like the pit of remorse into which he 
 would plunge his companion. 
 
 Self-control returned as suddenly as it had left 
 him. " I beg your pardon," he said coldly. " I for 
 got myself. I will return to England, as you suggest. 
 There are certain matters to be arranged with my 
 successor. If you will send him here upon your re 
 turn, I will attend to them as soon as may be." He 
 was all dignity now, all reserve and resolute calm. 
 
r A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT 315 
 
 Harman put out his hand. Vaughan turned away as 
 if he had not seen it. 
 
 "I can t tell you how sorry I am " began the 
 
 Superintendent. 
 
 " Have you seen the last Quarterly ? " interrupted 
 Vaughan. " No ? Take it with you. There are 
 some excellent articles in it. You can read them on 
 the way." 
 
 He bowed the Superintendent out with much cere 
 mony, then returned to the long, narrow room, where 
 he had worked and thought and prayed for a year and 
 a half, where he had dreamed dreams and seen visions, 
 for the most part of the Holy City, and of the es 
 tablishment of God s Kingdom on earth. Not until 
 of late had his dreams been of a woman s love, his 
 visions of her loveliness. 
 
 And now, now he was to be driven out! Flogged 
 back to England and Delia! Dishonored where he 
 had been of all men most trusted and admired. 
 
 How could he meet it? How could he bear it, he, 
 a young man ! The pitiless years spread out before 
 him, monotonous, arid as the desert around the can 
 yon ! His soul fainted within him at the thought of 
 them. 
 
 How could he endure this fate, this destiny, this 
 lot in which he had no choice? It had haunted him 
 since Delia came, as a threat, defied and ignored 
 as a possibility, combated, resisted. It was now a 
 fact ! Escape there was none ! 
 
316 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 But he must escape, or go mad. How did men es 
 cape from the recurring torture of a thought like 
 this? 
 
 How did they? Why there was Barker s squat, 
 black flask, the devil s envoy, answering him. " Take 
 me," it chuckled. " Take me, and forget ! " . . . 
 
 That was the temptation, the core of it, he saw now, 
 at last; that was the plea which sorrow and shame 
 and desperation found irresistible. That was it! 
 Not the appeal to the palate, the glow through the 
 chilled body, the appeasing of hunger and thirst, 
 but escape! He caught the flask, uncorked it with 
 trembling fingers and raised it to his lips. No, 
 no, not that way, the coward s way, the weakling s 
 way, the way of the brute ! 
 
 Where then? Out into the free air, under the open 
 sky, as so often before, seeking what he had failed to 
 find elsewhere ! With somewhat of the old haste, the 
 old stride, he passed through Eureka streets and 
 climbed the Geiger Grade. 
 
 The gray day was closing. The canyon lay in 
 shadow. Beyond it the plain stretched, dull and 
 undefined. Here and there lights twinkled in the 
 small, awkward mining town. Its smallness, its awk 
 wardness had always appealed to him. They touched 
 him now. Poor little uneasy Eureka ! By to-morrow 
 it would be back at his knees, like a wayward child, 
 begging to be taken to his heart again. But to- 
 
A CALL FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT 317 
 
 morrow was out of his reach for the good of the 
 Church! 
 
 He hurried away from the town and went on, 
 blinded by a rush of tears. He was nearly at the 
 summit now. A turn in the road brought him to the 
 great rock which marked the highest point. Some 
 one was sitting there, a woman wrapped in a long 
 cloak. She started up at his approach, and he saw 
 that it was Delia. She had the child in her arms. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 MAKTIN YOUNG TELLS WHAT HE SAW 
 
 THOSE were dull days at Jack s. Jack 
 was like a surly old lion: he showed his teeth 
 to everyone who " got gay." Whoever had 
 a story to tell told it in an undertone, ineffectively, 
 missing the point, and winning only a faint, half 
 hearted response. As for singing, there was none 
 of it. 
 
 Who could enjoy a glass under such circum 
 stances? It was whispered around among the fre 
 quenters of the saloon that Jack would have to go 
 out of the business. 
 
 Late that chilly November afternoon, however, 
 after the gray day when the Superintendent of Mis 
 sions called on Vaughan, a crowd had gathered such 
 as had not been seen at Jack s in weeks. All the old 
 set were there and many others who came but seldom, 
 Barker, Winslow, Ned Wilkins, as well as Jo and 
 Dick and Tim Noonan. This was partly due to the 
 weather, which, like the crack of a whip, on the first 
 cold nights, is apt to drive human animals herding 
 together. And it was due also, in part, to the report 
 that the Superintendent of Missions was in town, 
 had come, in fact, to patch up matters for the Par- 
 
 318 
 
MARTIN TELLS WHAT HE SAW 319 
 
 son. Some said the thing couldn t be done, others 
 contended that the Parson would be more popular 
 than ever in a month s time. The company broke up 
 into groups and discussed the situation not before 
 Jack; he would not allow a word on the subject to be 
 said at any time in his presence. He went from 
 group to group, now, and, as soon as he drew near, the 
 topic of conversation was changed. About six 
 o clock, as one and another threatened to go home 
 for " grub," Martin Young stumbled up the steps 
 and almost fell into the room. 
 
 " For God s sake, give me a drink, somebody ! " 
 he called. His hand shook as it received the tumbler 
 and he spilled very nearly half the contents on his 
 clothes. 
 
 " Seen a ghost, Mart? " inquired a jaunty young 
 miner. 
 
 " Ghosts be damned ! " returned Martin solemnly. 
 
 " Gi me another ! " he called, holding out the 
 empty tumbler. 
 
 By this time he had become the center of interest. 
 Everyone pressed forward, curious to learn what 
 Martin Young saw. The second glassful followed 
 the first and then he turned and faced them, his small 
 reddish eyes redder than ever, his bristling beard 
 awry. 
 
 " Come on, le s hear! What did you see, Mart? " 
 they urged. "What was it?" 
 
 He glanced towards Jack, standing by himself, 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 apart from the crowd, grave, watchful, his brows bent 
 in the anxious frown they perpetually wore, these 
 days. 
 
 " I see a norful sight! " he said impressively, wip 
 ing his mouth with the back of his hand. " / see 
 a man push a woman over the Geiger Grade an 9 
 then jump over hisself! " 
 
 "What man?" 
 
 "What man?" 
 
 "What woman?" 
 
 They crowded him, jostled him, Barker and Wins- 
 low and Ned Wilkins rubbing elbows with the rest. 
 "What man? What woman?" they repeated. But 
 they knew what man and what woman. 
 
 Only Jack remained aloof and silent, gripping a 
 chairback till the knuckles of his great hands stood 
 up white and hard. 
 
 " What man? What woman? " they asked again. 
 
 Martin looked at Jack before he answered " The 
 Parson an an " 
 
 Before he could finish Jack was in the midst of 
 the group, shaking Martin as a terrier shakes a rat. 
 " Ye low-lived cur ! " he growled between his teeth. 
 "Ye damn liar!" 
 
 "It s the truth, fore Gawd!" declared Martin, 
 rolling up his eyes until very little more than the 
 whites showed. " Lemme go, Jack. It s Gawd s 
 truth. Hope I may die if it ain t! You go round 
 by the lower road an you ll find em ! " 
 
MARTIN TELLS WHAT HE SAW 321 
 
 " Boys," called Jack, one hand still on Martin s 
 collar, " there s been an accident. Who ll go along 
 o me on a search? " 
 
 " I will ! " said Dick promptly. 
 
 "So ll I!" said Jo. 
 
 Half a dozen stalwart fellows joined them. Lan 
 terns, ropes, a ladder were procured. " Now," said 
 Jack, jerking Martin into the front of the line, 
 " lead on ; and if ye ve lied, it ll be as much as your 
 damn neck s worth ! " 
 
 Martin led the way, down the dim streets of 
 Eureka, up the hill, over the brow of it, by a sudden 
 turn to the right, over a narrow, dipping pathway 
 that wound and clung to the side of the mountain. 
 Now and then a man fell over a tree-root or a stone, 
 swore deeply, picked himself up and went on, grum 
 bling : otherwise they marched in silence. The swing 
 ing lanterns sent their rays out, this side and that, 
 revealing glimpses of the gray sage brush and 
 huge lichen-blistered rocks. There was nothing 
 else. 
 
 They were almost at the end of the path, when 
 suddenly, by a common impulse, the instinctive turn 
 ing towards a presence, every man looked up, holding 
 his lantern high over his head. A murmur ran down 
 the line, " There they are! There they are! " 
 
 Yes, there they were, on a shelving rock above the 
 path, the woman lying on the ground, wrapped in her 
 long cloak, the child still in her arms, the man kneel- 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 ing beside them. He did not move save to look up, 
 saying piteously, " They re dead! " 
 
 The concussion had killed them; they had struck 
 upon the rock. His hands were torn and bleeding 
 from letting himself down, by tree and jutting cliff, 
 and he was covered with dust and dry leaves. 
 
 " The ladder ! " ordered Jack. It was brought. 
 
 " Your coats ! " Every man stripped off his coat, 
 Jack first. He spread the garment carefully over 
 the rounds and pointed for them to do the same. 
 They obeyed. 
 
 "Now Dick." He beckoned Dick to him; 
 together they lifted the bodies and laid them upon 
 the improvised bier. 
 
 "Ready!" They lifted their burden, and, in 
 silence, as they had come, tramped back to Eureka, 
 Martin still in the lead. Bareheaded they were, and 
 without their coats, except the black-robed figure in 
 the rear. Nor could any man of them have told 
 what the weather was, although it was November, 
 and damp and chill. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE ARREST 
 
 AT the door of the undertaker s rooms Jack 
 halted his little company and went back to 
 Vaughan. " You go home now," he said 
 quietly. "We ll see t everything s done right. 
 Here, Dick ! " he beckoned Dick to him. " You go 
 along with him." 
 
 The two went off together. Jack dictated the 
 necessary arrangements and sent Jo for the Coroner. 
 " You ll have to sit to-night," he said, when the man 
 came. 
 
 " Just as well wait till to-morrer, Jack," the 
 Coroner replied. 
 
 " I said, you ll sit to-night," was the answer ; " and 
 when Jack Perry says a thing, it goes," which the 
 Coroner knew without being told. The present occa 
 sion proved no exception to the rule. 
 
 Martin Young was the sole witness of the tragedy. 
 The others could only tell what they found. Martin 
 was examined to the very innermost intention. They 
 turned him inside out, upside down, shook him, turned 
 him back again, but could not make him let go 
 his first brief statement of what he had seen. They 
 tried to trip him, hinted that he was not in a condi- 
 
 323 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 tion to know what he saw. What had he had " to 
 take?" 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 Those who saw him come into the saloon testified 
 that he had not even the smell of liquor about him, 
 that he had to have a couple of glasses before he 
 could tell his story. 
 
 They made him tell it over again. It did not 
 vary a hair. He had been coming down the Geiger 
 Grade on his roan mare. She had got a stone in her 
 foot. He had alighted to knock it out, had picked 
 up another stone for the purpose, when he heard 
 voices, heard the Parson say, " It s your work. I m 
 ruined, and you did it ! " heard the woman scream, 
 saw him lay his hand on her. 
 
 " Wasn t it to keep her from jumping over? " 
 they asked. 
 
 " Not by a damn sight ! " returned Martin. He 
 evidently believed that he had seen what he said. 
 The jury were beginning to believe it. One man 
 after another yielded. Again and again Jack called 
 upon Martin to repeat this or that feature of the 
 story, but every repetition strengthened it. " I tell 
 yer, I seen him! " he exclaimed. " I ll be I ll be " 
 he repeated the worst string of oaths in his reper 
 tory" if I ain t tellin the trewth! " 
 
 They believed him. They brought in their verdict 
 violent death. 
 
 "Where s Mat Kyle?" demanded Jack. 
 
THE ARREST 325 
 
 " You ain t goin to send him over there to-night, 
 be ye? " asked the Coroner. " Just as well wait till 
 mornin ." 
 
 "Where s Mat Kyle?" Jack repeated. "Go 
 fetch him," he ordered one of the young miners. 
 
 Mat was not far to seek. He was among the 
 throng waiting outside. He pushed his way in, his 
 round, good-humored face puckered like a frightened 
 child s. " Why, Jack," he demurred, " yer wouldn t 
 drag a man outer bed at one-two clock in the middle 
 of the night ! " 
 
 "He ain t a-bed," said Jack shortly. "You do 
 as I tell yer." 
 
 The crowd increased outside. They swarmed like 
 bees over the sidewalk and up the steps, flattening 
 their noses on the windowpanes to look into the room. 
 " You do as I tell yer," said Jack, " and then you 
 come back here." 
 
 Mat disappeared. The crowd parted to let him 
 through. " There he goes ! " they murmured. " He s 
 goin to fetch him." 
 
 Some of them started in pursuit, but Mat turned 
 in his tracks and drew his revolver. His timidity 
 and reluctance had disappeared. " The fust dog 
 gone cuss that sets out to foller me 11 get it! " he 
 shouted, and they went no farther. 
 
 Jack strode up and down, his hands deep in his 
 pockets, his face like a mask. No one could even 
 conjecture what was behind it. 
 
326 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Presently Mat returned. Jack went up to him, 
 "Well?" he asked. 
 
 " I ve took him there to the jail," said Mat. His 
 face worked. " I met him. He was just comin 
 outer his place. He was goin to give hisself up." 
 
 "That s all," said Jack stonily. "Boys," he 
 spoke to the group at the door, " you d better go 
 home now." 
 
 The street was full. Women had come, with 
 shawls over their heads; their dark, draped figures 
 showed like shadows on the outskirts of the crowd. 
 Some were weeping ; one, a small, thin, childish crea 
 ture, sobbed aloud. She had a dog with her. 
 
 " S that you, Posy? " called a young miner. She 
 recognized one of the McClintock boarders. 
 
 " Yes, sir," she faltered. " It s me, Annie Otter." 
 
 " What ye doin here? " he asked. " This time o 
 night, all alone ? " 
 
 " Ginger s along," she answered, pointing to the 
 dog. " An oh, I don t care! My missus is dead 
 an Baby s dead, an I don t care how quick they kill 
 me!" 
 
 "You think that s what we do with folks from 
 foreign parts ? " he queried. " Well, we don t, 
 always. Some of em we take real good care of, like 
 I m goin to of you. Here, hook on ! " He grasped 
 her arm. " Now, trot ! Everybody s out to-night, 
 and you can t trust everybody like you can me." 
 He led her at a brisk walk up the street in the direc- 
 
THE ARREST 327 
 
 tion of the boarding-house. Before they reached the 
 door she had told him about her father, her grand 
 father and her uncle with whom she lived " at ome." 
 
 " Brought up by men, good thing ! " he said ap 
 provingly. " I ain t much use for girls brought up 
 by wimmen. Get a lot of fool notions in their 
 heads." 
 
 He asked her a number of questions about her mis- 
 trees and the Parson. " Would you be scairt to 
 death if you should be sent for, to come to court, and 
 answer those questions ? " he asked. 
 
 " Not if you was there," she replied naively. 
 
 " I ll be there," he promised. " You re a good 
 little girl, Annie; I ll see you again. Good-night." 
 
 " Good-night," she returned confidingly. " I 
 wish t I knew what your name is." 
 
 " They call me Jo," he said with a laugh. He 
 stooped to kiss her, thought better of it, shook her 
 hand awkwardly instead, and walked back to the place 
 where he had left the crowd. Instead of lessening, 
 it had increased. The Coroner was besieged with 
 questions when he came out, but he had not much 
 to say. 
 
 Very little could be learned from any of the men 
 who had been present at the inquest, more than the 
 fact that Vaughan had been arrested and was now 
 in jail. That was enough to set them all buzzing. 
 
 It was rumored that Jack feared lynching and had 
 had the Parson shut up for safety. " Pretty damn 
 
328 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 mean cuss that would kill his woman and his own 
 kid ! " they said. " An warn t in liquor, either ! " 
 
 Others set up a feeble defense. " What sort of a 
 woman was she, anyway," they asked, " comin here 
 and upsettin everything, just as he d got to goin 
 good!" 
 
 These were the men and women whom Vaughan had 
 nursed when ill, had comforted when in trouble. 
 
 " I more think she tried to push him over and lost 
 her footin her own self," said Mike Flynn. 
 
 " Belike," said his brother Jerry. 
 
 A horseman rode slowly in among them. " Jerry," 
 he called. Jerry obeyed the summons. 
 
 It was Shed Wellman. "What s this I hear?" 
 he asked sharply. " The Parson arrested, in jail, 
 for the murder of his wife and child ? " 
 
 " Yes, sor," said Jerry respectfully. 
 
 " Who believes such a string of nonsense ? " 
 
 " Mart Young says he seed him," said Jerry. 
 
 " He s a damn liar ! " exploded Shed. 
 
 " Where s Jack? " Nobody knew. 
 
 "Where s Mart?" He, too, had disappeared. 
 Shed rode hither and yon, but found neither. " It 
 beats Hannah Cook ! " he muttered. He finally gal 
 loped away in the direction of home. 
 
 His wife met him at the door. " Did you hear 
 anything? " she asked. 
 
 * Yes, I did." He went into the hall, ostensibly 
 to hang up his hat. 
 
THE ARREST 329 
 
 She followed him. "What did you hear?" she 
 asked. 
 
 He returned to the sitting-room. She was close 
 behind him. "What did you hear, Shed?" she 
 persisted. 
 
 "What time did Harman go?" he asked irrele 
 vantly. 
 
 " About four, as soon as he got back from the 
 church. What did you hear, Shed? Was there any 
 truth in what those men said that come up after 
 you?" 
 
 "What did they say?" 
 
 " You know what they said. I ve told you over 
 and over." 
 
 " You ought to be abed, Sarah," his gruff voice 
 was almost tender. 
 
 "I ain t goin to bed, Shed Wellman, till you ve 
 told me what you ve heard. What did you hear? " 
 
 There was no escape from it. Shed looked up at 
 her from the big low chair into which he had thrown 
 himself. " The Parson s in jail," he said slowly. 
 
 " For what those men said? " 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " He never done that in the livin world," she said 
 huskily. " Tain tinhim!" 
 
 Shed remained silent. 
 
 " 9 T ain t in him! " she repeated. " Why don t you 
 speak? Why don t you say something? Do you 
 believe such a thing as that? " 
 
330 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " No, I don t," he answered. 
 
 Who says he done it? " 
 
 " Mart Young." 
 
 " I wouldn t believe Mart Young under oath." 
 
 " Nor me," he returned promptly. " But they 
 say the Parson went and give himself up! " 
 
 " That don t prove nothin ," she cried sharply. 
 " It s just like him to do some such thing to to 
 relieve his mind ! " 
 
 He gave her a quick look. " Tain t so easy to make 
 other folks believe that," he said, and subsided into 
 gloom. 
 
 " They will, if they ve got any sense," she said 
 fiercely. " Where was Jack Perry ? " 
 
 " He was head and front of everything ! " cried 
 Shed. " He sent Mat after the Parson ! " 
 
 "He did?" 
 
 " That s what he did! " 
 
 Neither spoke for some minutes. At last Shed 
 broke the silence. " He may get off. They may 
 not " 
 
 " Shed! They wouldn t " 
 
 " Hang him? They do generally, for such a 
 thing. Don t cry, Sarah! Don t cry like that! 
 Don t, don t!" 
 
 He was sobbing himself like a child. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 KATHARINE APPEALS TO WINSLOW 
 
 THE story had to be told by the Sentinel the 
 next morning. It could not be postponed or 
 ignored. Penrose did his dignified best 
 with it, but it read, after all, very much like other 
 stories of conjugal quarrel and consequent tragedy. 
 Katharine writhed as she read it, in the seclusion of 
 her own room, before the fire of logs which crackled 
 on the hearth. 
 
 Why had she forced into her life one so unrelated 
 to it, gone outside of the appropriate setting, the 
 adapted circle, to draw and hold one whose whole life 
 lay elsewhere save the point where they touched. 
 Ah, but they touched! When had this ever hap 
 pened to her before? With the rest of the world, 
 with the appropriate setting, the adapted circle, she 
 had had bowing acquaintance, no more. 
 
 Whose fault was that? Surely not the fault of 
 those who loved her and tried to study her needs. It 
 was her own willful fault, that she must seek out 
 strange flavors, unusual experiences, and cheapen her 
 self to obtain them. That was the bitterness of it, 
 that she had cheapened herself, she, Katharine Sin- 
 
 331 
 
332 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 clair, with her pride, to satisfy a craving for some 
 thing which all the while was not hers. 
 
 Was not hers ? Was ever anything more hers than 
 that brief contact with the unseen, mysterious work 
 ings of life? 
 
 But how did it differ from the ordinary experience 
 of every woman who loves ? Why fancy that she had 
 rights and privileges forbidden them? Call things 
 by their right names, Katharine Sinclair. You 
 wanted this man. His need of you was the plea that 
 you used, but you wanted him, you would have 
 him. Well? What have you had? What have 
 you now? You have broken your jar of precious 
 ointment upon his head and he is a felon accused 
 of murder in jail, awaiting sentence ! 
 
 " Mamma ! " called a voice outside, "Mamma! " 
 
 " Run away, Elsie ; Mamma s busy ! " she re 
 plied. 
 
 " I can t," piped the voice. " I must come in ! " 
 
 " Her mother s own child ! " muttered Katharine, 
 rising and flinging open the door. 
 
 Elsie promptly entered. " Sailor Boy," the 
 knitted worsted doll, was thrust into her belt ; Bettine, 
 the bisque toy, sat stiffiy erect in a go-cart pushed 
 before her, and Nancy, the big, floppy rag baby, sur 
 vivor of countless, complex adventures, lay limply 
 over her shoulder. " I had to have them all," sighed 
 Elsie, as she climbed into her mother s lap. " I was 
 so lonesome." 
 
KATHARINE APPEALS TO WINSLOW 333 
 
 "Why aren t you at lessons with Aunt Emmeline 
 and Marguerite?" inquired her mother. 
 
 " There aren t any," replied Elsie promptly. 
 " There aren t going to be any, at present, Aunt Em- 
 meline s nerves is so shook." 
 
 " Shaken," corrected her mother. 
 
 " Aunt Emmeline said shook." 
 
 " No, she didn t ; she never says such things." 
 
 " Shaken, then," said Elsie, accepting the amend 
 ment. " And Mary Flynn s out in the kitchen, cry 
 ing, with Nora. Jerry cried, too, when he came in 
 from the barn. I saw him. Mother! " Elsie very 
 seldom said " Mother." It denoted unusual serious 
 ness on her part. 
 
 "Well?" said Katharine. 
 
 " Where is C.V.?" 
 
 " How should I know, Elsie? " 
 
 "Is he in jail?" 
 
 " What a question I." exclaimed Katharine, pushing 
 the child from her knee. " Run and tell Nora to 
 come to me at once, and then go and play with your 
 dollies." 
 
 "I can t play," fretted the child. "I m so 
 nervous! " 
 
 " Run along, and do as I tell you." 
 
 Elsie reluctantly trundled the go-cart out of the 
 room. Over her shoulder the rag baby flopped dis 
 consolately. 
 
 Nora soon appeared, a swollen and distorted Nora, 
 
334 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 with agitated fingers plaiting the corner of her 
 apron. 
 
 "Elsie is not to go into the kitchen again," com 
 manded Katharine sternly, " or anywhere else where 
 she can hear talk." 
 
 " But she was that bound and determined " 
 
 pleaded Nora. 
 
 " I don t care if she is. If she won t mind, you can 
 come and tell me." 
 
 Still Nora lingered. "What is it?" asked her 
 mistress. 
 
 " If ye plaze, ma am, Mary Flynn s here and is 
 wantin a word with you, ma am, if you ll be so kind." 
 
 Nora s lips quivered. She threw her apron over 
 her head. Manners or no, she could not hold in 
 another minute. 
 
 " You may send her to me," said Katharine 
 formally. 
 
 Nora quickly vanished and in her place Mary 
 Flynn appeared. She had worked for the Sinclairs 
 when Katharine was a young girl and her old name for 
 her mistress daughter arose to her lips. " Oh, Miss 
 Kitty, ma am, whatever are we to do ! " she cried, 
 wringing her hands. 
 
 ."I don t see that we are called upon to do any 
 thing," said Katharine coldly. 
 
 " Oh, ma am, I thought you an him bein 
 friends," faltered Mary. " Folks do be sayin " 
 
 " People are very free with their tongues," said 
 
KATHARINE APPEALS TO WINSLOW 335 
 
 Katharine curtly. " Mr. Vaughan has been an oc 
 casional caller at the house. Why don t you go to 
 my brother? He is the one for you to see if it s 
 a petition." 
 
 "It ain t, ma am. It ain t, Miss Kitty. There 
 ain t twinty men in town would sign it, what ails em 
 all, I dunno. Me own man, that ll do anything I 
 ask him, won t stir a foot. An here s that poor felly, 
 widout even a lawyer. They all says that." 
 
 " Where s Mr. Barker? " inquired Katharine 
 sharply. " Oh, I see. He is district attorney." 
 
 " There s no one else cep Mr. Winslow, an you an 
 him bein friends, as I said " 
 
 So that was what she meant. It was Winslow and 
 not Vaughan of whom she spoke. 
 
 " I thought p r aps you d ask Mr. Winslow to defind 
 him the poor soul, the poor soul ! " Mary wiped 
 her eyes with a corner of her shawl. " Oh, ma am," 
 she continued, " if you cud see him this summer, 
 when there warn t no doctor to be had. Did ye hear 
 that I had him wid the last wan? Well, I did. My 
 man says to me, says he, Are ye goin to have that 
 bye ? I am, says I. What else would I do ? 
 There ain t a woman around that knows how, an 
 Elliott is thryin to be State senator an Addison s 
 full all the toime. Sure, Bridget Donohoo had him 
 an that Cornishwoman that lives over beyant, an 
 says I, I ll have him, if he ll come. An he come, on 
 the aidge of the avenin an stayed till break o day. 
 
336 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 An there I was a-hollerin an thinkin I was dead. 
 An says he, Hould on to the Lord, Mary. An 
 say I, I m a-houldin , but it looks like He ain t 
 there. 9 6 Hould on to me, then, says he, an give me 
 the two hands of him. D ye mind his hands, 
 ma am ? " 
 
 Did she? Those haunting, helpful hands! The 
 two women were sobbing together, now, clinging like 
 sisters. 
 
 "I ll do what I can, Mary," faltered Katharine. 
 " I ll see Mr. Winslow. Will you take a note to him 
 for me? 
 
 " That I will ! " cried Mary, wiping away the tears. 
 " PuJ it to him the way ye know how, darlin ." 
 
 " I ll ask him to call," said Katharine, seating her 
 self at her desk. " I ll have him come right away." 
 
 " Do, darlin ," urged Mary. 
 
 As soon as she had dispatched the note, Katharine s 
 heart misgave her. She ran to the window to call 
 Mary back, but the agile little old-country-born 
 Irishwoman was already halfway down the hill; and, 
 after all, what better was there to do? There was no 
 time to send for an out-of-town lawyer. The trial 
 was to take place almost immediately, after the man 
 ner of Eureka justice. There were few lawyers in the 
 State, any way, more able than Eugene Winslow. He 
 could do it, if he would. If he would! How more 
 than wise, and prudent, she must be! 
 
 The minutes dragged like hours until he came, yet 
 
KATHARINE APPEALS TO WINSLOW 337 
 
 when she heard him mount the steps and ring the bell 
 the time of her preparation had been all too short. 
 She had removed the traces of tears, and had changed 
 the fashion of her hair and gown. He must find her 
 no mourning dove. 
 
 He entered hastily, his lip twitching. He had not 
 been alone with her for months. 
 
 She gave him her hand. " Do you know why I sent 
 for you ? " she asked. 
 
 " I can imagine," he replied abruptly. " It is 
 this affair of Vaughan s. You are naturally dis 
 turbed." 
 
 " Yes, I am," she said with a tranquillity which 
 surprised herself. "Sit here by the fire. It s a 
 chilly morning." 
 
 Winslow obeyed, holding out his hands to the 
 blaze. 
 
 " From the first I ve taken an interest in Mr. 
 Vaughan," said Katharine, in calm, well-bred 
 tones were they too calm, too well-bred? she won 
 dered. " He seemed so young, and ingenuous." 
 
 " He is your own age," exploded Winslow. 
 
 "Is he? " she asked. "I should have said that he 
 was much younger. I fancy he has not seen very 
 much of the world. He is very boyish don t you 
 think?" 
 
 " Possibly," said Winslow. 
 
 " Well, anyway," said Katharine, with an access 
 of energy. " Of course we can t let him let 
 
338 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 them do as they please with him, after he has been 
 one of us, a member of your club. I sent for you v 
 to consult with you, to see what could be done." 
 
 She had really managed very well, she told herself. 
 She had kept the tremolo out of her voice ; and across 
 the room Winslow could not hear the beating of her 
 heart. 
 
 " Have you spoken to Arthur about this ? " in- 
 quired Winslow searchingly. 
 
 " N-no," said Katharine. " Arthur Arthur 
 doesn t like to talk about the things which he takes 
 very much to heart. He is, of course disturbed, 
 like me. You know you can talk over your troubles 
 more easily with someone outside the family, that is, 
 not too far outside, an an intimate friend, like 
 you." 
 
 She was actually stumbling over her words. This 
 would never do. 
 
 " There is a strong feeling against Vaughan," said 
 Winslow, scowling. " And it is increasing." 
 
 Katharine s blood turned to ice in her veins. She 
 did not dare to look at Winslow, or to trust her voice. 
 After a pause he continued. " It looks pretty black, 
 you know, for a man to kill his wife and child. She 
 was his wife, there s no doubt about that. And she 
 was evidently a provoking creature, but murder 
 is murder, you know. He ll probably have to swing 
 for it." 
 
 In Katharine s clenched fists, hidden among the 
 
KATHARINE APPEALS TO WINSLOW 339 
 
 
 
 folds of her gown, her nails were tearing their way 
 into her soft palms. It seemed to her that in another 
 minute she would shriek out at the top of her voice. 
 Yet when she spoke it was with the same deliberate 
 calm. " We must prevent that, if possible," she said 
 slowly. 
 
 " There s very little that can be done in a place 
 like this," returned Winslow. "In a more sophis 
 ticated, less direct community he would probably 
 be got off on a quibble, but here it is did he or didn t 
 he, and swing him up to the first lamp-post! I ve 
 been expecting every day that they d break into the 
 jail and take him." 
 
 He nonchalantly flicked a bit of dust from the 
 sleeve of his coat. Katharine s eyes blazed under the 
 drooping veil of their long lashes. But all she said 
 was, " It would be a fairly clever piece of work to get 
 him off." 
 
 Eugene Winslow started and gave her a quick 
 glance. " It would, wouldn t it ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " You ve never had as big a criminal case as this, 
 have you? " she inquired, smothering a yawn. " Ex 
 cuse me ; I didn t sleep very well last night. Nor did 
 anyone else. Everyone s nerves are upset. I didn t 
 know which way to turn. So I sent for you," she 
 finished brightly. 
 
 "You did quite right," he answered, with more of 
 his old cordial manner than he had hitherto shown. 
 " You were asking if I d had as big a criminal case as 
 
340 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 this. No, I haven t ; they used to go to Barker, and 
 since he s been district attorney there have been 
 
 none." 
 
 " Of course, if the prisoner has no case 
 gested Katharine. 
 
 "I wouldn t say that," he returned. "But it 
 would take a smart lawyer to overcome the prejudices 
 of these people. It might be done. I don t say it 
 couldn t." 
 
 " I should think that sort of thing would be a 
 temptation to a man, just to show that he could do 
 it," said Katharine reflectively. 
 
 "It is, in a way," said Winslow. He scrutinized 
 her sharply; was she playing a part? If she was, it 
 was an adroit one. She was leaning back in her chair 
 now, her bright hair thrown into relief by its dark, 
 carved headpiece, her hands stretched out along its 
 arms. He could not see her eyes. Katharine had 
 such tell-tale eyes. He wished that he could see them. 
 But the heavy lids concealed them. She seemed to 
 be studying the ruins of the log castle, glinting and 
 glowing on the hearth. 
 
 " You used to grow so excited over the big 
 cases, " she pursued dreamily. 
 
 "I don t care much, nowadays, that s a fact," he 
 responded, softening. " You should know why." 
 
 "How should I?" she asked. "You never told 
 me." 
 
 " Not in words," he said quickly. " Nor did you 
 
KATHARINE APPEALS TO WINSLOW 341 
 
 tell me in words that you had no further use for me. 
 You did not need to." 
 
 " How very, very sensitive you are," she said 
 gently. 
 
 " Yes, I am," he said. " Too sensitive, perhaps." 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 " Was I too sensitive ? " he asked. 
 
 " I think you were," she answered faintly. 
 
 Silence again intervened. The turret of the log 
 castle fell with a crash; a sudden flame leaped up 
 where it had been. 
 
 " Do you want me to see what I can do for this 
 fellow ? " Winslow asked. 
 
 " I think it would be a fine thing to do," she 
 answered. 
 
 " You would like to have me do it ? " he persisted. 
 
 " Yes, I should." At last she let him see her eyes. 
 Clear, unflinching, steadfast, they met his own. 
 
 " That is enough," he said, rising. " I will send 
 you word as soon as I have seen Vaughan." She held 
 out her hand. He raised it to his lips. 
 
 " You will hear from me," he said. " And I 
 thank you. I know how much this means, from you." 
 
 She listened to his departing footsteps and sud 
 denly grew sick at heart. 
 
 " That was done like a woman," she said to her 
 self. " It could not have been done in any other way, 
 and it may be the very worst thing that could 
 happen ! " 
 
CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 THE TRIAL 
 
 WITHIN an hour after Winslow left the house 
 a note from him was put into Katharine s 
 hands. " I have seen Vaughan," he wrote, 
 " and have been accepted as his counsel." For better 
 or for worse the thing was done. She could only 
 await the consequences. 
 
 The trial had been set for the following Tuesday. 
 All day Monday people were pouring into town. 
 They came from Ruby Hill and Simpson s, from 
 Alpha and Palisade, from Lewis, Galena and Battle 
 Mountain. The hotels and the boarding-houses 
 would not hold them all: they were housed in barns 
 and stampmills, for the weather was bleak; they 
 could not camp out-of-doors. Mary Henley had 
 been prostrated by the news. Frank had decided to 
 remain with her, but when Will Dower and Minnie, 
 now Will s wife, had driven away and a squad of 
 young miners had followed on horseback, Mary 
 dragged herself out of bed. " I m going," she said 
 to Frank, " if it kills me." 
 
 They reached Eureka late at night, but the town 
 was wideawake. Groups of men and women were 
 
 342 
 
THE TRIAL 343 
 
 gathered on the corners, talking together in low 
 tones. Now, a troop of horsemen galloped past, or 
 a buggy or a buckboard rattled down the street, but 
 there was no confusion, no disorder. A detachment 
 of militia had been sent from Battle Mountain in 
 apprehension of irregularities, but thus far their 
 services had not been required. 
 
 Frank found a room for himself and Mary in the 
 house of a friend and they retired to it, but not to 
 sleep. Hour after hour they listened to the tramp, 
 tramp of passersby, the murmur of voices, the 
 clatter of horses hoofs. After a night which gave 
 no rest and a breakfast which brought no appetite, 
 Frank declared his intention of going to the jail. 
 
 Mary would have gone with him, but Frank was 
 resolute. " No," he said. " You have a hard day 
 before you. Stay where you are, and keep still, if 
 you can." For Mary, in her distress, moved con 
 stantly to and fro. 
 
 He came back shortly, saying the prisoner saw no 
 one, by his own expressed desire. 
 
 "When is the trial?" asked Mary. 
 
 " Ten o clock. They re going already, and it s 
 only half-past eight. The courtroom won t begin to 
 hold them all." 
 
 " Can t we go, now? " she asked. 
 
 " And wait two hours ? They re never on time. 
 No, stay here, while I see what I can do about getting 
 a place where you can sit down." 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 He succeeded in obtaining a window in a house 
 overlooking the corner on which the courthouse 
 stood. Here she could see and hear as much as he 
 cared to have her see and hear, and would not be 
 jostled by the crowd. 
 
 They took their position early, but already the 
 street below them was a mass of moving forms. 
 Even to a first glance it was apparent that this was 
 no holiday crowd. There were greetings between 
 friends, excited talk, but, following question and 
 answer, a great gloom settled down upon the vast 
 company. In many this had become apathy. They 
 were blind and deaf to what went on around them. 
 They were dumb. Others, less profoundly moved, 
 betrayed extraordinary earnestness in gait and 
 gesture and by puffing tremendous clouds of smoke 
 from pipes or big cigars. Of these was a large red- 
 faced man, who at last turned his restless glance 
 towards the window containing the Henleys. 
 
 " There s Judge Weaver," exclaimed Mary. 
 " He s seen us. He s coming up." 
 
 They were sitting in a small bedroom opening out 
 of the hall, in company with half a dozen others, 
 f men and women. The Judge entered, out of breath 
 from climbing the stairs. " Warm morning ! " he 
 explained, mopping his face with a bright-bordered 
 handkerchief. "No? Ain t it? Well, Fve been 
 hurrying some." 
 
 " Take this seat, Judge," said Frank, rising. 
 
THE TRIAL 315 
 
 " Yes, I insist. Here s another for me. Why aren t 
 you inside? " 
 
 The Judge glanced uneasily over his shoulder at 
 the other occupants of the room before he answered. 
 " I couldn t! " 
 
 " There s Barker," he said, a minute later. " By 
 Jupiter, this ought to sober him ! They say he ain t 
 slept a wink since it happened. And there s Wins- 
 low. I should rather had Barker, if it had been my 
 case. Must be tough on Barker to have to prosecute. 
 It s a bad business ! " The Judge blew his nose 
 loudly. 
 
 Below, in the street , a man looked up and took off 
 his hat. It was Shed Wellman. " He can t bring 
 himself to go in, either," said the Judge. " I just 
 spoke with him. He can t talk. He chokes right 
 up. There they come, now ! " 
 
 A murmur ran along the crowd under the window. 
 " Stand back ! " called a policeman. An avenue was 
 made. Through it two men advanced, Mat Kyle 
 and the prisoner. Still in his suit of clerical black, 
 tall and straight, marched the man who was to be 
 tried for the murder of his wife and child. There 
 should have been, by all the laws of human nature, 
 only feelings of horror for him. Instead, there was 
 a great pity. Here and there a hiss could be heard, a 
 malediction. But these were immediately hushed. 
 The immense crowd which surged forward to the 
 doors of the courthouse was leavened by those whom 
 
346 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 this man had helped and comforted and ministered 
 unto, and they believed in him. In spite of every 
 thing, they believed in him. As he disappeared within 
 the huge doors which swung open to receive him the 
 buzz of comment began. " He never done it ! You 
 can t make me believe t he did." 
 
 " PVaps he didn t really do it, but they say he can 
 will anybody to do as he wants em to." 
 
 "Damn nonsense! What you talkin about?" 
 
 " Winslow ain t no good ; why didn t he send off to 
 Carson City o* somewheres for a lawyer? " 
 
 " He didn t send for Winslow ; Winslow offered." 
 
 " He don t need Winslow. He can git up and 
 plead his own case." 
 
 " You bet he can ! D you hear him when he spoke 
 that night over Penrose and Bob Gordon? Warn t 
 he great? " 
 
 " Bet yer life ! D you hear him at Charley 
 Davenport s funeral ? " 
 
 " Well, now ye re shoutin ! " 
 
 " Hush up there ; we can t hear what s goin on 
 inside." 
 
 " Couldn t, anyway." 
 
 " Yes, we could. They ll pass it along." 
 
 The restless sea became fixed and still. Every now 
 and then a man leaned forward from the open window 
 and told a man on the steps what was happening 
 within, and the man on the steps repeated it to the 
 crowd in the street. 
 
THE TRIAL 347 < 
 
 Nothing much had happened yet. Reminiscence 
 and anecdote revived again. 
 
 " D you hear how he knocked out Poole that 
 time? " 
 
 " Well, I should say! I was there" 
 
 "There ain t nothin he can t do. I shouldn t 
 be s prised if he cleared em out in there and run for 
 it." 
 
 " Keep still ! They re doin somethin ! " 
 
 " Ain t nuther." 
 
 "They be too. Look at that man in the winder? 
 What s he say, anyway ? " 
 
 " They re readin the indictment." 
 
 " Readin the indictment." 
 
 It was passed along the crowd, up to the windows, 
 where the Henleys and Judge Weaver sat. 
 
 Following it came the next piece of news. 
 
 " They ve called the prisoner." This, too, was 
 passed along to the window. 
 
 " What s he say ? " asked one and another ; here and 
 there could be caught an answer. 
 
 " Not guilty, of course." 
 
 " S pose he s a blam-jam idiot? " 
 
 " S pose he d put his neck in the noose? " 
 
 " What s the man in the window saying now ? " 
 
 " There s something the matter? " 
 
 "What s up? 9 
 
 ** Somebody get hit, you say? " 
 
 " Ask J em, ask em, down there in front ? n 
 
348 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " What did he do like that for? " 
 
 The man in the window had thrown up his arms 
 with a sudden impetuous movement denoting amaze 
 ment and dismay. 
 
 The man below him repeated the gesture, as he 
 received the news. 
 
 Gesture and news ran together through the crowd, 
 in ever-widening circles, like those formed in a pool 
 when a pebble is dropped into it. 
 
 " What? What? " they called out, on the farthest 
 rim. "What did you say?" 
 
 "Don t believe it?" 
 
 " Tain t so." 
 
 " Tis too ; that man in the window said so." 
 
 He lied." 
 
 "No, he didn t. Hear that! Hear that!" A 
 dull murmur issued from the courtroom, a confused 
 noise, the sound of many voices. 
 
 " They ain t examining witnesses, now I tell you ! " 
 
 " What is it, what does he say? " 
 
 The Judge is " 
 
 " He ain t oh, my God ! " 
 
 Frank Henley leaned far over the window sill into 
 the street. " Here, here! Look up here, some 
 body! " he called hoarsely. His tongue was thick in 
 his mouth. But no one noticed him. Every eye was 
 on the great door opposite, now swung open again. 
 
 " They re comin out ! They re comin out ! " the 
 murmur ran along the crowd. 
 
THE TRIAL 319 
 
 Judge Weaver thrust Frank aside and let out a 
 roar like that of a mad bull. 
 
 " What the devil s happened? " he shouted. 
 
 A miner on the edge of the crowd looked up, 
 shifted his quid, " Prisoner s pled guilty ! " he 
 answered. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER 
 
 THE houseful of women on Richmond Hill 
 awaited anxiously the return of the men. 
 Every one of them had gone to the court 
 house, from Arthur to the young " greenhorn " who 
 helped Jerry with the horses. 
 
 " They ll probably take luncheon down town," said 
 Miss Emmeline, as the noon hour approached. 
 " They won t be home much before night why, there 
 they are, now ! " 
 
 The four men were walking slowly up the hill, 
 Arthur and Ned Wilkins in front, Jerry and his as 
 sistant behind. Their heads were down, their eyes 
 fixed on the ground. They halted outside, and Arthur 
 and Ned entered into earnest conversation. Jerry 
 and his companion skulked around to the barn, as if 
 afraid of being intercepted. 
 
 "Why don t they come in and tell us?" fretted 
 Mabel, voicing Katharine s mute misery. " Arthur! " 
 she called at length. 
 
 He came, lagging. 
 
 " Don t you know we re crazy to hear about every 
 thing!" she complained. 
 
 350 
 
BROTHER AND SISTER 351 
 
 Still he hesitated, glancing at Katharine. The 
 faces before him paled. 
 
 " He isn t convicted! " cried Miss Emmeline. 
 
 " Didn t Mr. Winslow win ? " inquired Mabel, 
 speaking for Katharine. 
 
 " Winslow had nothing whatever to do with it," re 
 turned her husband. 
 
 " Nothing to do with it, when he is counsel for the 
 defense? " she pursued. "How does it happen that 
 he had nothing to do with it? Arthur, do answer us. 
 Can t you speak?" 
 
 " It was all Vaughan s own doing," Arthur replied 
 with an effort. " He pleaded guilty, without exten 
 uation. He did not confess or explain. He would 
 say nothing, except that he was guilty." 
 
 " And the sentence ? " It was Katharine who now 
 spoke. They all turned and looked at her. 
 
 " The extreme penalty," said Arthur solemnly. 
 " Come, Katharine, come with me." He put his arm 
 around her. But she pulled away. 
 
 Her eyes were fixed in a stare. Her face was like 
 marble. 
 
 " I m going to the jail! " she said in a strange, 
 hard voice. 
 
 " No, Katharine, come with me," he repeated. He 
 drew her into her own room and shut the door. 
 
 " I tell you I am going to the jail," she repeated. 
 Her eyes were feverishly bright. " I don t care who 
 sees me. I don t care who knows." 
 
THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Yes, you do," he answered steadily. " You 
 think just now that you don t, but you do. If I 
 should let you go down there, into that mob hanging 
 around the door of the j ail, they would say there 
 she comes, the other woman! Yes, they would, 
 Katharine. You could not bear it." 
 
 "I could bear anything," she answered in a voice 
 as steady as his own. " I don t care what they say, if 
 I can help him." 
 
 " You wouldn t help him ; you would only make 
 matters worse. He would have to bear that in addi 
 tion to the rest, hearing you insulted, perhaps. 
 And his own case would grow so much the blacker, if 
 people saw you there." 
 
 " But Arthur at a time like this my place is 
 there! " Her lips quivered piteously. 
 
 " Your place is here," he answered gravely, 
 " under your brother s roof, under your brother s pro 
 tection." 
 
 The appeal of his tenderness touched her, but only 
 for the moment. She drooped, but instantly rose 
 again. 
 
 " You make a coward of me," she cried. " Why 
 should I shield myself? Why should I be protected, 
 when he is at the mercy of that horde! Arthur, 
 Arthur, if it were you, if it were Mabel - " 
 
 Her own face looked back at her, molded into mas 
 culine lines, the same honest, gray eyes, the same 
 lovable mouth, strengthened. 
 
BROTHER AND SISTER 353 
 
 " If it were I, if it were Mabel, I could not bear 
 to have her come to me. I could not endure to see 
 her suffer, knowing that I was the cause. Give the 
 man a chance, Kate! Be a man yourself! He has 
 chosen this way. He knows why. He could easily 
 have escaped." 
 
 She put her hands to her head and sank into a 
 chair crouched there, like one hurt unto death. She 
 did not weep, but great, dry sobs tore their way 
 through her, convulsing the delicate frame. Arthur 
 watched her, his own heart yielding compassionate re 
 sponse; but he did not for an instant relax the grip 
 of his will upon hers until he knew that hers had sur 
 rendered. Then he went out and left her there, alone. 
 
 Mabel was waiting for him in the hall. She went 
 up to him and put her soft, round, clinging arms 
 about his neck. Oh, the human touch was good after 
 that struggle! He kissed her again and again, 
 gratefully. 
 
 " Shall I go to her? " Mabel whispered. He shook 
 his head. " Better leave her to herself, for a while." 
 
 " She won t do anything rash? " 
 
 " Oh, no." He knew the stuff of which Katharine 
 was made, he told himself. 
 
 He did know, a part, but not the whole, Katharine 
 being a woman. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 PROMETHEUS BOUND 
 
 IN the great, gray structure, massive as a fort 
 ress, where Eureka confined her criminals, 
 Clement Vaughan was drinking deep of the 
 bitterest of all bitter cups, the anguish he had 
 caused his friends. He felt at first that he could not 
 endure it, could not bear their pain, but, hearing out 
 side the door of his cell the sobbing of poor Minnie 
 Dower, he said to the guard, " Let her come in." 
 
 Minnie rushed into the room and flung herself on 
 her knees, seizing his hand and pressing it to her. 
 Will followed, winking hard to keep back the tears. 
 
 " I ll never believe it," sobbed Minnie. " And if 
 you did do it, you did perfectly right! " She was 
 like a frantic child. 
 
 He laid his free hand upon her head. She quieted 
 under his touch. " Oh, Mr. Vaughan," she murmured, 
 looking up at him with streaming eyes. " You won t 
 let them you ll run away! Promise me that you 
 will ! Oh, I can t bear it ! " 
 
 Will drew near and tried to exercise what feeble 
 authority he possessed. " Come, come, Min," he 
 pleaded. " You mustn t ! Min ! " 
 
 354 
 
PROMETHEUS BOUND 355 
 
 Clement lifted her to her feet and gently put her 
 into Will s arms. " Take her home," he said. 
 " And comfort her." 
 
 They met the Henleys at the door. 
 
 This was harder yet. In their blanched faces 
 Clement read the sleepless nights, the lack of food, the 
 constant strain, how their hearts had bled. For their 
 sakes he made a mighty effort at self-control. " You 
 see the work was too big for me, Mary," he said, 
 taking her hand. 
 
 Both men thought she was going to fall. But she 
 recovered herself. " It was not too big for you, 
 Clement," she said heroically. " To face what you 
 have faced, as you have faced it, is greater than any 
 work you ever did. It is your work. It will pre 
 serve your words, unforgotten." There was the ring 
 of prophecy in her voice, the gaze of the seer was 
 in her eyes. 
 
 Clement responded to them as he had always re 
 sponded. His spirit answered the challenge of hers. 
 
 " God bless you, Mary ! " he said fervently. 
 
 Frank glanced from one to the other in amazement. 
 He had feared, dreaded, this interview, and here they 
 were, these two, one to be hanged on the morrow, the 
 other, an adopted sister, a companion for years 
 both calmer than Frank himself ! 
 
 Clement turned to him. "There are some things 
 I want you to attend to," he said. " Let Mary go 
 through my books and select what she would like to 
 
356 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 have. Send the rest back home ; no one would care 
 for them here. An old friend of mine there will prize 
 them. This is his address." He wrote a name on a 
 card and handed it to Frank. " You will like to have 
 my desk and chair," he pursued. "And there is a 
 box of music which I wish to go to Mrs. Katharine 
 Chisholm, on Richmond Hill." 
 
 Mary colored faintly. She had heard some of the 
 talk. 
 
 " That is all," said Clement. " I am a poor man, 
 as you know." 
 
 He gave a hand to each. They stood together, the 
 three. 
 
 " For the last time," each was saying silently, 
 " for the last time ;" and the hours they had spent to 
 gether, the joys they had shared, the troubles they 
 had divided, came back upon them in a flood. 
 
 Mary was the first to break away. She put her 
 arms around Clement s neck and drew him down to 
 her, kissed him on brow and lips and eyes, the sign of 
 the cross. " I shall be with you," she whispered, 
 " all the way." 
 
 She went out quickly. Frank lingered behind. 
 " The boys haven t given up," he said in a low voice. 
 "They ll be here some time to-night." Before 
 Clement could reply, he was gone. 
 
 Judge Weaver came, then, and Lou Pugh, Jerry 
 Flynn, and Mike, with Mary, weeping loudly. Shed 
 Wellman came as far as the door, but retreated, 
 
PROMETHEUS BOUND 357 
 
 " blubberm like a great calf," he told Sarah when she 
 reproached him for not seeing the prisoner. 
 
 Barker did not appear, and no one had seen Jack 
 since the trial. But Dr. Addison was there, and 
 Ricker, the Cornish preacher. Nearly everyone sug 
 gested some way of escape. 
 
 Long after they had gone the air seemed full of 
 their offers of help, their cries of sympathy. 
 
 Poor mourning Spirits of the Air and of the Wave ! 
 
 Vaughan flung himself on his cot and tried in vain 
 to shut out the sound of their voices. Another Prome 
 theus, he lay there, chained to the rock of his punish 
 ment, preyed on by the vulture of his remorse. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 THE DEATH-WATCH 
 
 Y ^ HE boys " came, that night, as Frank Hen- 
 
 I ley said they would, twenty or more, clatter 
 ing up to the door of the jail and demand 
 ing the jailer. He came out, blustering. 
 
 " Give us your keys," called the leader, dismount 
 ing. He had a handkerchief cut into eyeslits over 
 his face, but the shoulders and the swagger were un 
 mistakably Dick Dale s. 
 
 The jailer swore mightily and gave up the keys. 
 Mat Kyle appeared. " Look-a-here, boys, this ain t 
 goin to do," he protested weakly. 
 
 " Shut up," returned the visitor good-humoredly. 
 "You know what we want. It ll save time and jaw 
 if you take me where I m bound to go." 
 
 Mat led the way to Vaughan s cell, protesting 
 loudly. The youngster strode after him, rapped 
 deferentially at the door and then opened it. 
 
 Vaughan received him with a smile. He had been 
 looking down at the rescuing party from the window. 
 How like a fifteenth-century romance it all was ! 
 
 " We don t need you, Mat," said the visitor, closing 
 the door in the sheriff s face. 
 
 " The boys are a-waiting for you," he said to 
 
 358 
 
THE DEATH-WATCH 359 
 
 Vaughan. " They ll take you anywhere you want to 
 
 go." 
 
 " I can t go, Dick," gaid the prisoner quietly. 
 " You know I can t." 
 
 " I don t see why not," returned the young man 
 impatiently. " There ain t a soul in town but 
 expects and wants you to, less it s that damn out-of- 
 town militia " 
 
 " Hurry up! " called a voice from below, 
 
 " I can t go, Dick, I can t," said Vaughan. " You 
 wouldn t have any respect for me if I did. I 
 shouldn t have any for myself. What, run away? " 
 
 " It ain t running away," said Dick. " It s being 
 carried off. We re going to carry you off you 
 don t understand. There ain t any time to lose. 
 This is your last show. The thing will go through! " 
 
 " I know it," said Vaughan. 
 
 " You know it and Oh, my God ! " cried Dick. 
 
 " Hurry up! " called the voice from below. 
 
 Dick made a stride towards the prisoner. " Par 
 son," he said desperately, " you ve got to go, there s 
 no use talkin ." 
 
 Vaughan drew back and faced him. " Dick, if 
 you carry me away and prevent justice, as God 
 lives, I will come back!" 
 
 A whistle blew shrilly in the yard: the signal of 
 danger. 
 
 " There they are, now ! " exclaimed the would-be 
 rescuer and dashed from the room. There were 
 
360 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 sounds indicating the approach of another party of 
 horsemen shouts, the popping of revolvers, then Dick 
 and his company galloped away, followed by the 
 militia. 
 
 Vaughan listened till the last hoofbeat was stilled, 
 then resigned himself to the loneliness and the silence. 
 It was not a bright night, but there were stars, and 
 the fires of the Richmond Mills lit up the space near 
 and the overhanging sky. At intervals the flame 
 leaped up, receiving the ore, and the country around 
 and the heavens were dyed red with the light of it. 
 
 " Cast thy gold into the furnace," sang the inner, 
 remote, hidden self of the watcher, the inaccessible 
 self that sings and repeats phrases when the outer 
 self may be agonizing or palsied " Cast thy gold 
 into the furnace ! " 
 
 The relentless, devouring flame how cruel it was ! 
 The sacrifice how complete, how like his own ! 
 
 Ah, it was cruel ! With all the crowding eloquence 
 thrust back in him and sealed, with all the eager, 
 vitalizing sympathy in him frozen, to be hurled out, 
 just as he was beginning to know what life meant to 
 these men and women, just as he was learning their 
 actual needs how abnormal, unnatural, uncalled 
 for it seemed! 
 
 But were words all, however eloquent? Was sym 
 pathy all, however warm and true? What of the 
 uian? What of the man? 
 
 The man, he knew, had failed. There was just 
 
THE DEATH-WATCH 361 
 
 one more chance given him to " make good," to rec 
 ognize justice, to surrender the due, to pay the 
 penalty. Better that, better a thousand times the 
 swift, sharp stroke ! Silenced, the voice would have 
 given no uncertain sound ! Suffered through, the life 
 would leave a meaning ! 
 
 Here would be an appeal for justice, for right 
 living, stronger than any plea his lips could frame ! 
 
 And to her, the woman who had been heart of his 
 heart, life of his life, in that brief moment of their 
 mutual recognition, to her also in no other way could 
 he " make good," in no other way could he insure to 
 her the preservation of what was pure and true and 
 good in their love. To stay, to live, to yield, as 
 would be inevitable Inevitable? With every pulse 
 in him he responded to the thought of possessing her, 
 of being possessed by her. 
 
 But she would always feel that he had sinned, in 
 thought, that day that she had sinned because of 
 him. No, no ! No, no ! 
 
 " Cast thy gold into the furnace 1 " sang the inner 
 self. " That will I," answered the outer self. " The 
 gold of my purpose, however mistaken, the gold of 
 my service, however imperfect, the gold of my love 
 for her, however alloyed, the gold of my desire for 
 thee, O my God ! " 
 
 The flames rose and sank, struggled and gave way, 
 as the fire in the street had done on the night of the 
 service at Lou Pogh**. 
 
362 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Touch my lips with a live coal from off thine 
 altar, " he had prayed then. 
 
 His lips! Now the penetrating, cleansing fire 
 burned to his soul ! 
 
 Steps came and went, came and went again. Out 
 side, in the corridor, Mat Kyle, longing to serve, 
 fearing to intrude, in an agony of sympathy, ap 
 proached and retreated. At last Vaughan heard him 
 and spoke. 
 
 " Come in, Mat," he called. " Come in, good, kind 
 friend!" 
 
 The sheriff entered. The experiences of the last 
 week had told on him. His round, stolid face had 
 lengthened, sharpened. He had been quickened by 
 what he had witnessed and felt. 
 
 " I didn t know but you might want somethin ! " 
 he faltered. 
 
 "What time is it?" asked Vaughan. 
 
 " After ten. Twarn t but half -past eight when the 
 boys was here. S there anything I can do? Any 
 body you wanter see? Ricker said he d come any 
 minute you said the word." 
 
 " I d rather you to shrive me than any priest, 
 Mat," Vaughan replied. 
 
 The idea caught his fancy. It would not be hard 
 to talk to this kind, simple-hearted soul. He would 
 like to leave a message. 
 
 " Sit down," he said to the sheriff. " And let me 
 say my last words to you." 
 
THE DEATH-WATCH 363 
 
 Mat sat down awkwardly, his fat hands on his 
 knees. His heart was thumping away, like a steel 
 hammer, under his gaudy waistcoat ; there was a lump 
 in his throat which he could not swallow. He would 
 rather be put to the torture than to sit here and feel 
 like this, but if twould ease the Parson any to talk, 
 by geeswax, he would stand it ! 
 
 " They may ask you afterwards what I said," 
 pursued Vaughan. " I won t burden your memory 
 with a lot of words. It isn t necessary. I ll leave 
 only a short message to those who will care enough to 
 ask you what I said. Tell them this: It isn t what 
 a man says or does, but what he thinks! Tell them, 
 what a man thinks! " 
 
 Mat looked wise. He couldn t for the life of him 
 see what thinking had to do with committing murder 
 and being hanged for it, but perhaps the Parson would 
 explain. To Mat, thinking meant sitting down and 
 getting all snarled up, as he was now. What did it 
 amount to anyway? But, there, if it eased the 
 Parson any to talk, let him talk! 
 
 " It is the secret thought that kills," pursued 
 Vaughan. " / hated therefore I was a murderer ! " 
 
 Mat winked hard. Just what did the Parson 
 mean. Therefore what did he mean by that? 
 
 " Hold on, Parson," he exclaimed, leaning for 
 ward, his face very red, his breath shortened by his 
 effort to understand. " Didn t yer didn t yer push 
 her over? " 
 
364 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " No," said Vaughan sadly, " she jumped. She 
 said it was my fault and that she hoped I d be hanged 
 for it. Where are you going ? " 
 
 Mat was on his feet. " Say that again," he ex 
 claimed excitedly. " You didn t push her over? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " She jumped? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You ll have to excuse me. I ve got somethin to 
 do! " 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 JACK INTERVENES 
 
 JACK PERRY, ain t you never comin to bed? " 
 There was no answer from the huge, brood 
 ing figure by the window. It had sat there 
 without moving since darkness fell. 
 
 "Jack, I wish t you d answer me? " 
 
 " What do you want, Marthy ? " 
 
 "Do you know it s most twelve o clock? " 
 
 " I don t care if it s fourteen o clock ! " was the 
 ungracious response. 
 
 " Marthy " sighed and turned again to her pillow. 
 
 A company of horsemen rode up to the saloon below 
 and alighted. At the same time, a short, thick-set 
 figure emerged from the shadows into the light of the 
 lamp. 
 
 "Mat Kyle! What s he doin here?" ejaculated 
 the man by the window. 
 
 The group conferred earnestly, looking up and 
 down the street. Finally they all disappeared in the 
 mysterious regions below. 
 
 Presently someone could be heard ascending the 
 stairs. There came a rap at the door. Jack flung 
 it open and Mat Kyle blundered into the room. 
 
 365 
 
366 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 Jack seized him by both arms. " What s hap 
 pened ? Out with it ! " he exclaimed savagely. " Don t 
 stand there like a bump on a log! Out with it! I 
 can hear anything after what I ve heard for the past 
 three days. Have they lynched him?" 
 
 "No, no, Jack; tain t nothin o that kind," 
 answered the sheriff soothingly. 
 
 " Then he s dead," said Jack simply. " I know. 
 You needn t tell me. He s dead. He couldn t stand 
 what he s stood an live. God have mercy on us, what 
 we can stand ! " His hold relaxed. He drew off , 
 breathing heavily. 
 
 " No, he ain t dead," returned the sheriff. " He s 
 just told me he didn t do it! " 
 
 Jack was upon him again in a flash, pinning him to 
 the wall. 
 
 " What ? What ? " he gasped. " Didn t do it? " 
 
 "No, she she jumped. An she told him she 
 hoped he d swing for it as he s likely to, less we 
 think o somethin putty tarn quick. Think o some- 
 thin , Jack ! For God s sake, think o somethin ! " 
 
 Think of something, with a brain which had been 
 hammered sore with thinking, planning, remembering, 
 controlling, with a heart that ached as the heart of 
 Brutus ached when he condemned his sons? Think of 
 something ! 
 
 " The boys has tried once to-night to get him to 
 leave," faltered Mat. " But you couldn t draw him 
 out with a corkscrew. They re waitin downstairs, 
 
JACK INTERVENES 367 
 
 they re ready for anythin . But the militia s out 
 after em. There s a big resk. If you can only think 
 o somethin ." 
 
 Think? With a brain like punk! 
 
 " What an airth " came a querulous voice from 
 
 the bedroom. A nightcapped head appeared in the 
 doorway and was suddenly withdrawn, with an " Oh, 
 my suzi " of consternation. 
 
 By just such trifling interventions are lives saved. 
 Jack laughed, and that laugh sent fresh currents of 
 renewed power through him. 
 
 " Who s downstairs ? " he asked quickly. 
 
 "Dick, Jo, Tim all the boys," answered Mat. 
 
 "Tell em to come up. Those three. I don t 
 want anybody else." 
 
 He was out of his coat, had snapped off his sus 
 penders and thrown them into a corner before Mat 
 had left the room. 
 
 " Marthy," he called, " bring my boots." 
 
 The nightcapped head again appeared and cau 
 tiously inspected the surroundings. 
 
 " Come along," he exclaimed good-humoredly. 
 " There ain t nobody here." 
 
 " I ve got to git on some does," she said petulantly. 
 After an interval lasting several minutes she emerged, 
 arrayed in a chintz dressing-gown covered with 
 impossible flowers. The nightcap was still on her 
 head. The boots were in her hand. She handed them 
 to him. He put them on. 
 
368 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " Belt," he ordered. 
 
 She brought it. 
 
 " Corduroy coat." 
 
 It was forthcoming. 
 
 When Mat returned with the three young men, he 
 stood there, Jack Perry of old, booted, belted, 
 equipped and ready. 
 
 They came in, full of excitement. Before their 
 bustling entrance Marthy broke and fled. 
 . " We can pick him right up," said Tim. " He 
 ain t heavy, to speak of." 
 
 " An tie him on behind one of us," said Jo " He 
 can ride behind me." 
 
 " An go like the devil," finished Dick " There 
 ain t one of those militia fellers can sit a horse. They 
 never d know which way we went." 
 
 " Be calm, boys," said Jack. " Be calm. Be calm 
 as hell! There ain t no carryin off in -this. It s 
 goin to be work, hard, back-breakin work, and you ve 
 got to stay with it ! " 
 
 " That s all right," said Dick. 
 
 "Betcher life," said Jo. 
 
 " We ve got just ten hours to run to Palisade, see 
 the governor and get back," said Jack. " He s goin 
 to be there to-night." 
 
 " The eleven-thirty s gone," said Jo. 
 
 " I know that," said Jack. " We ve got to take 
 our own private conveyance." His voice had re 
 gained its invincible drawl. " Jo, go over to Me- 
 
JACK INTERVENES 369 
 
 Clintock s and tell the station agent he bunks there, 
 you d ought to know him, name r s Jones that Jack 
 Perry wants a handcar. Jo, you go dig up the tele 
 graph operator he s at the station and tell him 
 Jack Perry says to clear the tracks to Palisade. 
 Tim, you go along with Jo. I wanter talk with Mat." 
 
 The three hurried away. Jack put his head in at 
 the bedroom door. 
 
 " So long, Marth ! " he called affectionately. " I ll 
 be back when I get here." 
 
 The two men tramped heavily down the stairs. 
 Lights were out in the saloon. Pere Hyacinthe was 
 closing. There was no one in the street. The 
 curiosity, the agitation, the anguish that had vibrated 
 through the town during the last three days were 
 hushed now. Everyone was awaiting the final act of 
 the tragedy on the morrow. 
 
 Jack laid his hand on his friend s arm. " If you ve 
 got any more to tell me," he said, " tell it now. I ve 
 got to know what to say to the governor." 
 
 " Twas this way," said Mat solemnly. "Parson 
 was givin me his last words. He was sayin twasn t 
 what a man did alwuz, that thought could kill! 
 D you ever look at it in that light, Jack? What do 
 you think? " 
 
 "Go on, what did he say?" returned Jack im 
 patiently. " There ain t any time to fool away on 
 what 7 think!" 
 
 "That s what he said," returned Mat with em- 
 
370 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 phasis. " He says, I hated her, consequentially I m 
 a murderer! 
 
 " But he said she jumped? " 
 
 " That s what I was tellin you, over n 5 over." 
 
 " All right, sir. Now," Jack gripped his friend s 
 arm, " you just more n holler for a Special Provi 
 dence ! " 
 
 " What s them ? " inquired the sheriff, bewildered. 
 
 " That s when the Old Gentleman steps in. We 
 can t get that blam-jam handcar up to Palisade and 
 back without somethin more n four-man power. 
 Parson says there is such things him and me talked 
 it over once but he said, too, that t ain t any sign 
 the Old Gentleman is down on you if He does let you 
 be swung into eternity by a lot of damn fools ! " Jack 
 groaned. " An I a-pridin myself on seein clear ! " 
 
 They were on N Street now, where the embankment 
 runs sheer to the tracks below. A faint, languid, 
 last-quarter moon was pricking through the trees. 
 Here their roads separated, Jack s to the station, 
 Mat s to the jail. 
 
 " I ll wait here till you come along," said Mat. 
 
 " Another thing," exclaimed his companion. " You 
 don t wanter let em be too all-fired prompt! Give 
 me all the time you can. Don t let em be in a 
 hurry." 
 
 " They won t be in a hurry," returned the sheriff 
 grimly. " There ain t nobody that hankers for the 
 job." 
 
JACK INTERVENES 371 
 
 " Well, so long. Now, you do s I tell you." 
 
 " I won t let em hurry." 
 
 " I mean the other you know the Special Prov 
 idence racket." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Get right at it, Mat. Holler for all you re 
 worth! D ye hear? " 
 
 "All right, Jack." 
 
 They parted. 
 
 Mat took his position under a greasewood and 
 leaned against the rough trunk, waiting. A wind 
 came up the canyon, driving the dead leaves before 
 it. It would be in their faces, but they would not 
 mind ; they would not mind anything, so they " won 
 out." 
 
 Hark! that is not the wind, that distant rumble. 
 Nor is it thunder. The moon shines. The stars are 
 out. There is not a cloud. 
 
 It is it is a car upon the track ! Nearer, nearer 
 it comes ! What time they are making ! 
 
 Far away among the trees a lantern gleams. It 
 comes steadily on. Behind it a dark mass can be 
 distinguished, moving up and down, up and down, 
 with the regularity of a machine but with a certain 
 impassioned persistence that tells of life. Nearer, 
 nearer it comes. The lantern blazes out; the rails 
 show, twin lines of light. The rumble grows into a 
 beat. The wheels clatter upon the track, distinct 
 and near. 
 
372 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 There they are, there they are, every back bent, 
 every arm tense, pumping for dear life ! 
 
 Mat cheers. They answer hoarsely. They whizz 
 past. The light of the lantern picks out the leaves 
 on the trees, lets go, fades, is lost. The clatter grows 
 fainter, blends into a rumble again, ceases. They 
 are gone ! 
 
 Mat falls upon his knees, remembering his prom 
 ise. " O Lord," he gasps, " O Lord! " 
 
 This is all his prayer ; no invocation, no appeal, no 
 Amen. Only that great tumultuous sigh for help. 
 
 But he feels that he has laid hold on a Strength 
 which responds. And the men on the handcar feel 
 a difference. 
 
 " The wind s changed," pants Jack, still pumping. 
 " Tain t in our faces no more." 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 SUSPENSE 
 
 KATHARINE never knew how she lived 
 through those hours between Tuesday and 
 Friday, the day set for the consummation 
 of the tragedy. For years she could not speak of 
 them, could not think of them. " That way madness 
 lies, " she would say to herself, when they presented 
 themselves to her memory. Certain dim impressions 
 she had of doors opening to let in a pitying face, then 
 gently closing again, of hearing Elsie wail, " I want 
 my Mamma," and of someone dragging her away, of 
 Nora helping her to undress and coaxing her to drink 
 a glass of milk, of lying awake staring at the night- 
 lamp, of watching the light grow into another day, 
 and of all the time being whirled on, on, on, to that 
 day, that hour ! 
 
 She must have slept, and yet she could not remem 
 ber to have done so. She had not at any time, she 
 believed, been really asleep or quite awake; then all 
 at once she was keenly, sensitively alive to the ap 
 proaching crisis. She must know as soon as it 
 was over. Not through Arthur, or anyone else who 
 could feel at liberty to question, or comment, or look 
 
374 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 at her curiously. A messenger, a servant, Jerry 
 must bring the news. 
 
 While it was yet dark she arose and dressed her 
 self and, softly unbolting the great front door, stole 
 out of the house. 
 
 Early as it was, there was a light in the barn. 
 She could see it move to and fro. Jerry was doing 
 his chores. He was earlier than usual. He, too, 
 could not sleep. He had not called the " green 
 horn." He wanted to be alone. 
 
 She paused at the door. The smell of the hay 
 and of the well-groomed horses came out to her, 
 bringing associations with childish games of hide- 
 and-seek, and of housekeeping in the haymow, 
 mingled with other pictures of more recent date, the 
 coming home late from a gallop or driving her steam 
 ing grays with a flourish up to the door memories 
 of careless, happy, light-hearted childhood and girl 
 hood. A woman, now, she stood there, paying the 
 price of her womanhood. 
 
 " Jerry," she called softly. 
 
 He came out at once, and pulled off his cap when he 
 saw who had called him. 
 
 " Yes, ma am. Good-morning, ma am," he said, 
 as if it were no unusual occurrence for his mistress to 
 present herself at the barn at four o clock of a chilly 
 November morning. 
 
 " I want you, Jerry," she said hastily, " to go down 
 to the jail and bring me word after as soon as " 
 
SUSPENSE 375 
 
 " I will, ma am," he replied earnestly. " Is there 
 anything else, ma am any word " 
 
 " No, that s all." She could trust herself to say no 
 more, but hurried back into the house and again 
 bolted the door behind her. 
 
 Five o clock came, six. It was still dark. Seven, 
 Nora tapped at the door. Was she ready for her 
 bath? What would she have for breakfast? 
 
 The young Irishwoman showed wonderful self- 
 command. Her sorrow for the prisoner had been 
 absorbed by solicitude for her mistress. Katha 
 rine felt her strength and leaned upon it. She let 
 Nora brush her hair, tie her slippers, do all the little 
 things for which she had always scorned to have a 
 lady s maid. She even let Nora butter her toast and 
 pour out her coffee, ate a few mouthfuls, drank a 
 swallow or two, dallying with the agony which she 
 knew awaited her. 
 
 Eight o clock came, and nine. Jerry was riding 
 out of the yard on Brown Bess, her own saddle-horse, 
 the fleetest animal in the stable. Now it all came 
 crowding back on her and would not be denied. 
 
 " Leave me, Nora," she whispered, " and don t let 
 anyone in." 
 
 As an extra precaution she locked the door. Then 
 she came back and faced it the horrible dream, the 
 dreaded reality. 
 
 She flung herself on her knees before the great 
 lounging-chair in which she made him sit, the day 
 
376 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 she sang her song their song. The notes, the words 
 came back now mockingly : 
 
 " He sang of Joy in overflow, 
 He sang the Pain mankind must know. 
 And they who listened to that voice, 
 With it did mourn, with it rejoice." 
 
 " I cannot, oh, I cannot ! " she gasped. " It is 
 unendurable! " 
 
 In a niche of the wall an alabaster Pieta, brought 
 home from Florence, slender and white and fragile as 
 the Indian pipes that spring without warning in the 
 black forest mold, ghosts of flowers, caught her eye. 
 It had been almost forgotten among the gayer, 
 brighter treasures of the room. Now it was the only 
 thing she saw : the pathetic group, the white Mother, 
 the white Christ upon her knees. 
 
 " O Mother of Sorrows," she prayed. " Even 
 Christ did not bear what you bore to stand by to 
 wait till it was done ! Help, help, Mother of God ! " 
 
 A touch of that patience, a reflection of that love 
 came to her. She, too, would endure, stand by, wait, 
 and claim the precious clay. 
 
 Was that a bell tolling? It must not be ! It could 
 not be ! Was there no power on earth, in Heaven, to 
 stop this monstrous thing? She flung out her arms 
 like one drowning and grasped the arms of the chair. 
 
 " * Lord most holy, God most mighty, holy 
 and merciful Saviour! " she prayed, " let not this 
 
SUSPENSE 377 
 
 deed of violence be done! Take him gently to Thy 
 self! Lord most holy, God most mighty, holy 
 and merciful Saviour! 
 
 " Holy and mighty and merciful " the words com 
 forted and helped her. She lay prone, clinging to the 
 chair, saying them over and over. 
 
 A horse! Jerry was returning. She started up 
 and fell back. Every particle of strength had left 
 her. There was a rap at the door. 
 
 " Come in ! " she faltered, staggering to her feet 
 and opening the door. 
 
 It was Jerry. Nora was with him, and behind 
 them Sarah Wellman s rugged, wrinkled face ap 
 peared. 
 
 " Jack Perry brought a reprieve from the 
 governor ! " Jerry s teeth chattered. " But the 
 Parson dropped dead when he heard the news ! " 
 
 Katharine clutched the back of the chair. 
 
 " Jerry," she said with tense lips, "put the grays 
 into the surrey and drive me down to the jail." 
 
 Sarah Wellman came into the room ; and neighbor 
 hood kindliness came with her. 
 
 " Pm goin , too, if you ll let me," she said quietly. 
 " Fetch her bonnet and shawl," she added, turning 
 to Nora, and herself wrapped her cloak about the 
 younger woman, as her mother might have done it. 
 
 Voices were heard above, of the children and Mabel 
 and Miss Emmeline. 
 
 " Quick," said Katharine, seizing Mrs. Wellman s 
 
378 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 arm, " before they stop me ! " And these two, who 
 had never found enough in common to bring them 
 within more than speaking distance of each other, 
 drove away, side by side, Katharine s hand on Mrs. 
 Wellman s knee under Mrs. Wellman s shawl, pressed 
 by her hard, kind old palm. 
 
 It was over. He was gone. She was left behind. 
 Nothing remained for her but the last offices, the 
 heartbreak, the mourning expressed by the Pieta. 
 That was the way of it, for a woman. To love, to 
 long, to clasp, to cherish, and to be left with memories 
 and the consciousness of a heart made keen for 
 aching. 
 
CHAPTER XLI 
 
 THE REPRIEVE 
 
 PRECISELY at five minutes before ten, on 
 that fateful Friday morning, the handcar 
 reached the spot on N Street where Mat had 
 seen it disappear the night before. 
 
 " Stop, boys, stop," called Jack, straightening 
 himself with an effort, " I ll get off here : the rest of 
 you can go on to the station." He dropped from the 
 car and clambered stiffly up the slope. 
 
 He had seen a man approaching on a big gray 
 mule. Placing himself directly in the path of the 
 startled traveler, he flourished his pistol and shouted, 
 " Get down and gimme that mewl ! " 
 
 " Why, Jack Perry ! What the deuce ! " called the 
 rider. He was a miner whom Jack had known in 
 Virginia City. 
 
 " That s all right," exploded Jack. " I m in too 
 damn a hurry to answer any fool questions. You can 
 come around to the jail and get the critter ! " 
 
 He swung into the saddle. 
 
 " How about this hangin ? " the miner called after 
 him, but Jack had astonished the mule into a gallop 
 and was already nearly out of sight. 
 
 379 
 
380 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 He reached the jail just as the clock in the tower 
 was striking ten. The little company sheriff, guard 
 and prisoner were setting out from Vaughan s cell, 
 for in spite of all Mat s efforts everything had gone 
 like clockwork that morning, everybody had been on 
 time. 
 
 The clock had finished striking the hour and was 
 beginning to toll when Jack flung himself from the 
 mule and dashed up the steps. Along the gloomy 
 hall he flew as if his great, bulky body had been 
 endowed with wings, and came upon the sad group 
 as they turned the first corner. He caught from his 
 breast a folded paper and held it high above his head. 
 
 " Reprieve ! Reprieve ! Reprieve ! " he shouted, 
 until the walls rang. 
 
 The three men stopped abruptly; the one in the 
 middle threw up his hands and fell as if he had been 
 shot. 
 
 " My God, I ve killed him now ! " Jack cried, and 
 threw himself on his knees beside the prostrate form. 
 
 " Stand back, can t you ! " he exclaimed fiercely 
 to Mat and the guard, who were bending over him. 
 
 " Here, out of the way ! " He picked up the sense 
 less body as if it had been a child s, and carried it 
 down the hall to the cell it had left a few minutes 
 before. They followed him. 
 
 " Open the door ! " he ordered savagely, and they 
 opened it. 
 
 He laid the limp form tenderly on the bed. 
 
THE REPRIEVE 381 
 
 " Now, get out of here ! " he commanded, " and stay 
 out ! An if any damn son-of-a-gun shows his head 
 here, I ll smash his face ! " 
 
 They retreated in disorder and told the jail, whence 
 the news spread through the town, that a reprieve had 
 come, the Parson had dropped dead, and Jack Perry 
 had gone crazy from overexertion and grief. 
 
 Only one of these statements was true. Jack had 
 not gone crazy and the Parson was not dead. A faint 
 flutter could be detected at the wrist when Jack s big 
 finger pressed it. He stretched himself on the cot 
 and dragged Vaughan s body over on his own. There 
 it lay, relaxed and helpless, on the great, generous 
 frame that throbbed from head to foot with desire to 
 give and give and give. 
 
 Beyond any outline or impression of a dream Clem 
 ent had drifted, at first. At length, outlines and 
 impressions began to shape themselves into thoughts 
 and feelings. He thought he was on a raft, far out 
 at sea. It was strong and tight. He felt secure. 
 But resting upon it, stretched at full length, he could 
 feel the tide rise under him, could feel the motion of 
 the waves. Gradually, the outlines filled, the impres 
 sions grew distinct. He saw through parting eyelids 
 the gray walls of his cell. The raft on which he lay - 
 was Jack s great, generous body ; the rising of the 
 tide was his breath; the motion of the waves was 
 the beating of his heart. 
 
 He stirred and sighed. Jack s free hand went to 
 
38 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 his hip-pocket and drew out a flask. He pulled the 
 cork with his teeth and put the bottle to Vaughan s 
 lips. 
 
 " What is it? " Vaughan asked faintly. 
 
 " It s life, Parson," said Jack solemnly. " You ve 
 got to take it, even if you don t wanter. You were 
 ready to take the other, the black dose, now take this," 
 
 Vaughan obeyed. The fiery liquor tingled through 
 his veins. He fell into a natural sleep. 
 
 Jack gently laid him down, hung over him, gloated 
 over him. 
 
 There came a short, sharp, decisive tap at the door. 
 
 " Hell ! " cried Jack indignantly. 
 
 " Please let me speak with you, Mr. Perry ! " called 
 a woman s voice. 
 
 In high dudgeon Jack tiptoed to the door, opened 
 it, stepped out and closed it behind him. 
 
 Katharine Chisholm stood in the hall. The noon 
 day light from the narrow window fell full on her. 
 She had thrown back her hood. Her heavy cloak 
 dropped from her shoulders, displaying the black 
 gown she wore beneath. 
 
 "Black! Well, she had nerve!" thought Jack. 
 He frowned down upon her from his great height. 
 She looked back at him timidly. Pier beauty had 
 never had such an appeal in it; and for this he dis 
 trusted her the more. 
 
 She put out her hand. He pretended not to see it., 
 Her eyes swam with sudden tears. 
 
THE REPRIEVE 383 
 
 "This ain t no place for you, ma am," he said 
 roughly. 
 
 " More for me than for you," she returned bravely. 
 " Men for life, women for death ! " She whispered 
 the word. 
 
 Jack s keen glance pierced her. 
 
 So that was it : she thought the man was dead. He 
 would let her think so. 
 
 " I should calc late the Parson d had about enough 
 of wimmin ! " he said brutally. 
 
 " Ah ! " she breathed. It was a cruel scab. But 
 she persisted. 
 
 " Dear, good, kind Jack," she pleaded, " give me 
 his precious body ! All my days I ll bless you on my 
 knees ! It is so much to me ! And yet it is so little ! 
 No woman ever claimed so little ! " 
 
 " It s all most of em want ! " he muttered under 
 his breath. She did not hear him. 
 
 "Just to care for it as his mother might," she 
 went on, " to prepare it for the long sleep ! " She 
 stretched out her hands with an indescribably 
 pathetic gesture. 
 
 " What ll folks say? " he asked slowly. 
 
 She blazed at him. " We ve been influenced by that 
 long enough! It was for that you dragged him to 
 prison, and his soul so white it made yours pitchy 
 black 
 
 " What folks say ! That was why you sent him to 
 the gallows him to the gallows, O my God! 
 
384 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 " And he gave you his heart s blood, the untiring 
 service of his hands, his brain, his thought, his 
 prayers ! " 
 
 The tears rained down her face. Still he would not 
 spare her. He would be sure of her; and for this 
 he thrust her through and through. 
 
 " They say twas because he wanted to please you 
 that he done it. I ve thought so myself, some 
 times." 
 
 "To please me?" she cried out bitterly. "He 
 never so much as touched my hand, except as the 
 courtesies of the occasion demanded it. And I 
 adored him ! And he knew it ! I don t care who 
 knows it now. I ll walk bareheaded behind his bier 
 that all the world may know ! I ll mourn as the poor 
 women of the street mourn, who have the luxury 
 we lack, the luxury of grief ! " 
 
 Slowly, steadily, faith in her showed in his eyes. 
 She saw it. 
 
 " You will give me the body now? " she said wist 
 fully. 
 
 A strange look came over his face. 
 
 " What if I tell you there s life in it? " he asked. 
 
 " Life ? " she cried, with parted lips. 
 
 "Yes, ma am, he s alive, and sleepin like a child. 
 Do you wanter look? " 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " she drew back. 
 
 " Oh, no, no, " he mimicked. " Now you draw 
 back, now you let go. You don t want him, alive." 
 
THE REPRIEVE 385 
 
 She pulled her cloak about her, flushing rosy red. 
 She was like a startled doe, he thought. 
 
 " He he might not like it," she said hurriedly. 
 " But he s alive ! alive ! and sleeping like a child, 
 you said? " 
 
 " Yes, ma am, like a babe. I ll bring him outer 
 this. I ll tend him good." 
 
 She clasped her hands in a fervor of thanksgiving. 
 
 " Do ! Do ! And if there s anything he wants or 
 that you think he ought to have 
 
 " He ll have it, ma am, don t you fret! You ain t 
 the only one that sets store by him ! " 
 
 " And if I send Jerry down to learn how he is " 
 
 " I ll keep you posted, ma am." 
 
 " God bless you, Jack." She pressed his hand to 
 her heart and, drawing her cloak about her, flashed 
 past him down the corridor, to Sarah Wellman, there 
 to sob out on the shoulder of the woman from Ply 
 mouth Rock the crowding emotions she could no 
 longer contain. 
 
CHAPTER XLII 
 
 TO THE DESERT 
 
 THE reprieve became a pardon. Jack took 
 his patient home. Martha was degraded 
 to the ranks. Jack became commanding 
 officer. 
 
 He gave Vaughan his bed and slept on the floor, 
 rolled in a blanket. Martha slept in the kitchen or 
 wherever she saw fit. She was told what to say to 
 people who inquired for the sick man and to " keep 
 the cusses out." But she was not permitted so much 
 as to cook the meals offered to the invalid. Jack did 
 that himself. He broiled sage hens to the exquisite 
 point of perfection which lies between underdone 
 and done-too-much; he made a hunter s stew of ven 
 ison that would coax the gastric juices out of the 
 most obdurate stomach; he devised countless changes 
 and additions in the diet necessarily limited by cir 
 cumstances and the condition of the patient, and 
 chuckled to himself when he came out of the sick 
 room with his empty plates. 
 
 The dainties sent in by sympathetic friends he 
 scorned, but the flowers, a daily offering from the 
 Barkers and Mrs. Wellman and from the Chisholm 
 conservatories, Martha was allowed to put into empty 
 
 386 
 
TO THE DESERT 387 
 
 bottles and set up around the room, like a Kate 
 Greenaway frieze. 
 
 Letters came from the Henleys and the Dowers, 
 and from the Superintendent of Missions. Jack laid 
 them all in the upper bureau-drawer and fed them 
 out, one at a time, during convalescence, as he thought 
 Vaughan could bear them, the Superintendent s last. 
 
 Clement shared them with him, except certain 
 tender personal passages from the Galena women. 
 The Superintendent s letter he read entire. It con 
 tained information better than broiled sage hen or 
 venison broth to build up the strength of the sick 
 man. Eureka had petitioned as one man that the 
 Parson be allowed to remain. The Superintendent 
 retracted his decision of November tenth. He hoped 
 Vaughan would stay. 
 
 "That s all right," said Jack shortly. "We ll 
 talk about that later. But now how d you like to 
 go South, into the desertj with Dick Dale, for a 
 while?" 
 
 Clement drew a long breath. " I d like it ! " he 
 exclaimed fervently. 
 
 Associations pressed close here, in spite of Jack s 
 ministrations and defenses. He longed to be out of 
 it all and away ; to have a chance to make a man of 
 himself again. 
 
 "Well, you re goin , anyway," said Jack grimly. 
 " We ve got the arrangements all made. It s just 
 as well for you to go peaceable." 
 
388 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 When Jerry called as usual for news, one morning 
 not long after this, he was told that Jack himself 
 would bring the news that afternoon. 
 
 Katharine received him with an impatience which 
 she found it hard to conceal, and led the way to her 
 little sitting-room. 
 
 " Mr. Vaughan must be a great deal better, to 
 spare his nurse," she said, by way of an opening. 
 
 " He s enough better," returned Jack tranquilly, 
 " so s I m sending him off into the desert this after 
 noon, long o Dick Dale. Can you git up on the roof 
 of this house? They calc late to pass the Geiger 
 Grade about three o clock, and it s pretty near that 
 now." 
 
 " Come, 9 she cried, snatching a fleecy white shawl 
 from the hall table. " This way ! " She fled up the 
 stairs. He panted after. 
 
 Down a long, dark passage she led him, up another 
 flight, and they were in the attic. There was a ladder 
 here, leading to a scuttle in the roof. She was up 
 like a kitten, pushed back the trapdoor and climbed 
 out on the tiles. The roof was not quite flat, but 
 she kept her footing till she reached one of the 
 chimneys. 
 
 " You can see pretty good here," he said, joining 
 her in the shadow of the chimney. 
 
 " Yes, but " she halted, "they cannot see us! " 
 
 She stood on tiptoe and stretched up to her fullest 
 height. " No," she said, " this will never do. There 
 
TO THE DESERT 389 
 
 are boxes in the attic. If you could hand me up a 
 box " 
 
 He entered into the spirit of her effort. " Sure ! " 
 he cried. 
 
 A big packing-box was pushed through the scuttle 
 and placed by the chimney. Immediately the round, 
 bright head of a child appeared in the opening. 
 
 " You, too ? " asked Jack. He laughed as he 
 lifted Miss Elsie to the box beside her mother. 
 
 " There they are ! " murmured Katharine. 
 
 Two horsemen were riding slowly down L Street 
 in the direction of the Geiger Grade. The taller, 
 slighter of the two lagged behind, as if her heart 
 leaped at the thought he were loath to leave. Now 
 and then he turned in the saddle and looked 
 back. If she could only see his face! If she 
 could read his heart! To have but this remote, 
 fleeting glimpse of him! Hush, and thank God for 
 that! 
 
 With the forthputting of her patience came a 
 boon. The horsemen wheeled, the taller, slighter 
 first. They were looking towards Richmond Hill. 
 She tore the fleecy white shawl from her head and 
 throat, and flung it out like a banner. Elsie clung 
 to her skirts, frantically shaking her pinafore. 
 
 Was he too far away ? No, he had seen the flutter 
 ing signals. Slowly, slowly, he lifted his sombrero 
 and held it high above his head, in salute. His com 
 panion followed his example. So they remained, 
 
390 THE SAGE BRUSH PARSON 
 
 motionless as statues, doing homage to that white 
 flag until it fell. 
 
 " Come, Jack, and help us down," called Katharine. 
 " Stop, Elsie. We must let them go." 
 
 " He calc lates to be gone about two months," 
 said Jack, as he lifted down first one and then the 
 other. " He told rne to tell you. He wanted you to 
 know." 
 
 They turned again in the direction of the Geiger 
 Grade. The horsemen had disappeared. But on the 
 road they had taken Katharine saw them whenever 
 she looked that way; saw Clement wheel and lift his 
 hat, saw him wait there, motionless, heard Jack say, 
 " He told me to tell you. He wanted you to know." 
 
 And Clement, riding away from the little mining 
 town, from the church where he had been blessed as 
 well as harassed, the courthouse and the jail where 
 he had achieved as well as suffered, from the man 
 who had nursed him as tenderly as a woman, and the 
 woman who had loved him with the courage and 
 directness of a man, received as the token and emblem 
 of all these, their beckoning and their benediction, 
 the flutter of that white flag on Richmond Hill. 
 
 But these were of the Day he was now leaving, the 
 Day to which he would return. Between lay a Night 
 of vigil, of isolation, of shadow, of wide-open spaces, 
 of mysterious, hidden influences, of communion with 
 the stars ; a Night of reconsecration to God and His 
 work. 
 
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