minister, with a smile of joy and relief, 'No preaching, no
praying, no reading of the Bible for six whole weeks!'"

"Indeed!" said Margaret, freezingly. "No, I am not familiar with
ministers of that sort." She turned with dismissal in her manner and
appealed to Mrs. Tanner. "Then you really have no Sabbath service of any
sort whatever in town?" There was something almost tragic in her face.
She stood aghast at the prospect before her.

Mrs. Tanner's neck stretched up a little longer, and her lips dropped
apart in her attempt to understand the situation. One would scarcely
have been surprised to hear her say, "Cut-cut-cut-ca-daw-cut?" so
fluttered did she seem.

Then up spoke Bud. "We gotta Sunday-school, ma!" There was pride of
possession in Bud's tone, and a kind of triumph over the minister,
albeit Bud had adjured Sunday-school since his early infancy. He was
ready now, however, to be offered on the altar of Sunday-school, even,
if that would please the new teacher--and spite the minister. "I'll take
you ef you wanta go." He looked defiantly at the minister as he said it.

But at last Mrs. Tanner seemed to grasp what was the matter.
"Why!--why!--why! You mean preaching service!" she clucked out. "Why,
yes, Mr. West, wouldn't that be fine? You could preach for us. We could
have it posted up at the saloon and the crossings, and out a ways on
both trails, and you'd have quite a crowd. They'd come from over to the
camp, and up the canon way, and roundabouts. They'd do you credit, they
surely would, Mr. West. And you could have the school-house for a
meeting-house. Pa, there, is one of the school board. There wouldn't be
a bit of trouble--"

"Um! Ah! Mrs. Tanner, I assure you it's quite out of the question. I
told you I was here for absolute rest. I couldn't think of preaching.
Besides, it's against my principles to preach without remuneration. It's
a wrong idea. The workman is worthy of his hire, you know, Mrs. Tanner,
the Good Book says." Mr. West's tone took on a self-righteous
inflection.

"Oh! Ef that's all, that 'u'd be all right!" she said, with relief. "You
could take up a collection. The boys would be real generous. They always
are when any show comes along. They'd appreciate it, you know, and I'd
like fer Miss Earle here to hear you preach. It 'u'd be a real treat to
her, her being a preacher's daughter and all." She turned to Margaret
for support, but that young woman was talking to Bud. She had promptly