entiment.

"Gettin' religion's most like goin' on the bust. Hits yer sudden, an'
yer don't git off'n it easy. The signs is allus the same. You kind o'
worry when folks gits blasphemin', an' you don't feel like takin' a
hand to help 'em out. You hate winnin' at 'draw,' an' talks easy when
a feller holds 'fours' too frekent. An' your liquor turns on your
stummick. They're all signs," he added expansively. "When a feller
gits like that he'd best git right off to the meetin'-house. That's
how I tho't."

"And you went?"

"That's so. Say, an' it ain't easy. I 'lows my nerve's pretty right
fer most things, but when you git monkeyin' wi' religion it's kind o'
different. 'Sides, ther's allus fellers ter choke you off. Nassy
Wilkes, the s'loon-keeper, he'd had religion bad oncet, tho' I 'lows
he'd fergot most o't sence he'd been in the s'loon biz; he kind o'
skeered me some. Sed they used a deal o' water, an' mostly got ducking
greenhorns in it. Wal, I put ha'f a dozen slugs o' whisky down my
neck--which he sed would prevent me gittin' cold, seein' water wa'n't
in my line--an' hit the trail fer the meetin'."

"What denomination?" asked Tresler, curiously. "What religion?" he
added, for the man's better understanding.

"Wal, I don't rightly knows," Arizona went on gravely. "I kind o'
fancy the boys called 'em 'dippers'; but I guess this yarn don't call
fer no argyment," he added, with a suspicion of his volcanic temper
rising at the frequent interruptions. Then, as the other kept silence,
he continued in his earnest way, "Guess that meetin'-house wus mostly
empty. Ther' wus one feller ther' a'ready when I come. He wus playin'
toons on a kind o' 'cordian he worked wi' his feet----"

"Harmonium," suggested Tresler, diffidently.

"That's it. I could 'a' wep' as I looked at that feller, he wus that
noble. He'd long ha'r greased reg'lar, an' wore swaller-tails. Guess
he wus workin' that concertina-thing like mad; an' he jest looked
right up at the ceilin' as if he wer' crazy fer some feller to come
'long an' stop him 'fore he bust up the whole shootin' match."

"Looked inspired," Tresler suggested.

"Mebbe that's wot. Still, I wus glad I come. Then the folks come
along, an' the deac'n; an' the feller quit. Guess he wus plumb scart
o' that deac'n, tho' I 'lows he wus a harmless-lookin' feller 'nough.
I see him clear sheer out o' range on sight, which made me think he
wus a mean-sperrited cuss anyway.

"Yes, I guess I wus gl