directions out slowly.

"'After their bath kids needs an hour's Bible talk.'"

He read it again. And then a third time, so as to make quite sure.
Then he turned thoughtfully to the door, staring out at the bright
sunlight beyond. He could hear the children's voices as they played
outside, but he was not heeding them. He was delving around in a hazy
recollection of Bible subjects, which he vaguely remembered having
studied when a child.

It was difficult--very difficult. But he was not beaten. There were
several subjects that occurred to him in scraps. There was Noah. Then
there was Moses. He recalled something of Solomon, and he knew that
David slew a giant.

But none of these subjects amounted to more than a dim recollection.
Of details he knew none. Worked into a thorough muddle with his worry,
he was almost despairing again when suddenly he remembered that Jessie
possessed a Bible. Perhaps it was still in the bedroom. He would go
and see. It would surely help him. So he promptly went in search of
it, and, in a few moments, was sitting down beside the table poring
over it and studiously preparing himself for his forthcoming tutelary
duties.

CHAPTER XXII

SUNDAY MORNING IN SUFFERING CREEK

On the veranda of the store was the usual Sunday morning gathering of
the citizens of Suffering Creek, an impromptu function which occurred
as regularly as the sun rose and set. Some of the men were clad in
their best black broadcloth, resplendent, if shiny at the seams, and
bespotted with drink and tobacco stains. But the majority had made no
such effort to differentiate between the seventh day of the week and
the other six. The only concession that everyone yielded, and then
with bad enough grace in many instances, was to add to the boredom of
their day of rest by performing a scanty ablution in the washing
trough at the back of the store.

Minky was one of the few who clung to the customs of his up-bringing.
He was there, ample, and gayly beaming, in "boiled" shirt, and a
highly colored vest, which clashed effusively with his brilliantly
variegated bow-tie, but of which he was inordinately proud.

It was the custom at these meetings to discuss any matters which
affected the well-being of the community, to listen to any item of
interest pointing the prosperity of the local gold industry, to thresh
out complaints. In fact, it became a sort of Local Government Board,
of which the storekeeper was president, and su