ve or whether you want another
duckin'--an' it'll be seven times this time!"
The man on the ground shut his eyes and gasped. The silence was very
solemn. There seemed no hint of the ridiculous in the situation. It was
serious business now to all those men. Their eyes were on their leader.
"Do you solemnly declare before God--I s'pose you still believe in a
God, as you didn't say nothin' to the contrary--that from now on you'll
stand for that there Cross and for Him that hung on it?"
The minister opened his eyes and looked up into the wide brightness of
the sky, as if he half expected to see horses and chariots of fire
standing about to do battle with him then and there, and his voice was
awed and frightened as he said:
"I do!"
There was silence, and the men stood with half-bowed heads, as if some
solemn service were being performed that they did not quite understand,
but in which they fully sympathized. Then Jasper Kemp said, softly:
"Amen!" And after a pause: "I ain't any sort of a Christian myself, but
I just can't stand it to see a parson floatin' round that don't even
know the name of the firm he's workin' for. Now, parson, there's just
one more requirement, an' then you can go home."
The minister opened his eyes and looked around with a frightened appeal,
but no one moved, and Jasper Kemp went on:
"You say you had a church in New York. What was the name and address
of your workin'-boss up there?"
"What do you mean? I hadn't any boss."
"Why, him that hired you an' paid you. The chief elder or whatever you
called him."
"Oh!" The minister's tone expressed lack of interest in the subject, but
he answered, languidly, "Ezekiel Newbold, Hazelton."
"Very good. Now, parson, you'll just kindly write two copies of a letter
to Mr. Ezekiel Newbold statin' what you've just said to us concernin'
your change of faith, sign your name, address one to Mr. Newbold, an'
give the duplicate to me. We just want this little matter put on record
so you can't change your mind any in future. Do you get my idea?"
"Yes," said the minister, dispiritedly.
"Will you do it?"
"Yes," apathetically.
"Well, now I got a piece of advice for you. It would be just as well for
your health for you to leave Arizona about as quick as you can find it
convenient to pack, but you won't be allowed to leave this town, day or
night, cars or afoot, until them there letters are all O.K. Do you get
me?"
"Yes," pathetically.
"I
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