he deuce you didn't! Hadn't you eyes to see?"

To this Shock made no reply, but taking a letter from his pocket said
quietly, "You are Mr. Macfarren, I believe. I have a letter for you
from Mr. McIntyre."

At this the other two rode away. Mr. Macfarren opened the letter with a
scowl. As he read the flush on his face deepened.

"What the deuce does this mean?" he burst out, in an angry tone. "I
wrote both the Superintendent and McIntyre last week that it was a
piece of folly to plant a man here, that we didn't require and didn't
want a man. The community is well supplied already with church
services, and as far as the Presbyterians are concerned, they would
find the support of a minister an intolerable burden."

For a moment or two Shock stood in speechless amazement. It was
disconcerting in the extreme to be told by the man upon whom he had
chiefly depended for support and counsel that he was not wanted.

"Your letters would not have reached them in time, I suppose," he said
at last.

"Well, that's the fact, at any rate," replied Macfarren roughly. "We
won't want a minister. We are thoroughly well supplied. We don't need
one, and we cannot support one."

He was turning away without further words when he was arrested by the
sharp and peremptory voice of the old gentleman, who had remained
behind Shock during the conversation.

"Macfarren, this gentleman is a stranger, I presume. Will you kindly
present me?"

"Oh--ah--certainly," said Macfarren, wheeling his pony and looking
rather ashamed. "Mr." looking at the letter.

"Macgregor," said Shock quietly.

"Mr. Macgregor, this is General Brady, one of our leading ranchers."

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance, sir," said General Brady,
shaking Shock warmly by the hand. "You will find us rough and wild,
but, sir, I am glad to say we are not all a blank lot of boors."

"Thank you, sir," said Shock, with a sudden flush on his face.

"Oh--ah--certainly we are glad to have you visit our town," said
Macfarren, as if trying to atone for his former rudeness. "And, of
course, it is no fault of yours, Mr.--ah--"

"Macgregor," said the General shortly.

"Yes, Mr. Macgregor. There's a deuce of a mistake been made, but I take
it you will not suffer. There are plenty of--ah--positions--places, I
believe, where you will find--ah--opportunity. But if you will excuse
me, I am busy for the moment. I shall doubtless see you again before
you leave."

Shock bowed in