ng place to curiosity.

"What are you, anyway?" he enquired.

"Well, my boss told me to-day I was a prospector." Shock's mind
reverted, as he spoke, to that last conversation with his Convener.

"Prospector," echoed the old man. "What for, land, coal?"

"No, men."

"What?" The old man looked as if he could not have heard aright.

"Men," said Shock again simply and earnestly.

Bill was hopelessly puzzled. He tried to get at it another way.

"What's your Company?" he enquired. "I mean who are you working for?"

Before answering Shock paused, looking far past Bill down the trail and
then said solemnly, "God."

Bill started back from his companion with a gasp of surprise. Was the
man mad? Putting the incident of the whisky and this answer of his
together, he might well be.

"Yes," said Shock, withdrawing his eyes from the trail and facing Bill
squarely. "That's my business. I am after men." He drew from his pocket
a small Bible and read, "Follow me and I will make you fishers of men."

When Bill saw the Bible he looked relieved, but rather disgusted.

"Oh, I git you now! You're a preacher, eh?"

"Well," said Shock in a tone almost confidential, "I'll tell you I'm
not much of a preacher. I don't think I'm cut out for that, somehow."
Here Bill brightened slightly. "I tried last night in town," continued
Shock, "and it was pretty bad. I don't know who had the worst of it,
the congregation or myself. But it was bad."

"Thinkin' of quittin'?" Bill asked almost eagerly, "Because if you are,
I know a good job for a fellow of your build and make."

"No, I can't quit. I have got to go on." Bill's face fell. "And perhaps
I can make up in some other ways. I may be able to help some fellows a
bit." The sincerity and humble earnestness of Shock's tone quite
softened Bill's heart.

"Well, there's lots of 'em need it," he said in his gruff voice.
"There's the blankest lot of fools on these ranches you ever seen."

Shock became alert. He was on the track of business.

"What's wrong with them?" he enquired.

"Wrong? Why, they aint got no sense. They stock up with cattle, horses,
and outfit to beat creation, and then let the whole thing go to blazes."

"What's the matter with them?" persisted Shock, "Are they lazy?"

"Lazy! not a hair. But when they get together over a barrel of beer or
a keg of whisky they are like a lot of hogs in a swill trough, and they
won't quit while they kin stand. That's no way for a man to