elt beside her and prayed
that the Heavenly Father would show Mom Wallis how to let the glory be
revealed in her now on the earth.

Then Mom Wallis wiped the furtive tears away with her calico sleeve,
tied on her funny old bonnet, and rode away with her handsome young
escort into the silence of the desert, with the glory beginning to be
revealed already in her countenance.

Quite late that evening the minister returned.

He came in slowly and wearily, as if every step were a pain to him, and
he avoided the light. His coat was torn and his garments were
mud-covered. He murmured of a "slight accident" to Mrs. Tanner, who met
him solicitously in a flowered dressing-gown with a candle in her hand.
He accepted greedily the half a pie, with cheese and cold chicken and
other articles, she proffered on a plate at his door, and in the reply
to her query as to where he had been for dinner, and if he had a
pleasant time, he said:

"Very pleasant, indeed, thank you! The name? Um--ah--I disremember! I
really didn't ask--That is--"

The minister did not get up to breakfast, In fact, he remained in bed
for several days, professing to be suffering with an attack of
rheumatism. He was solicitously watched over and fed by the anxious Mrs.
Tanner, who was much disconcerted at the state of affairs, and couldn't
understand why she could not get the school-teacher more interested in
the invalid.

On the fourth day, however, the Reverend Frederick crept forth, white
and shaken, with his sleek hair elaborately combed to cover a long
scratch on his forehead, and announced his intention of departing from
the State of Arizona that evening.

He crept forth cautiously to the station as the shades of evening drew
on, but found Long Bill awaiting him, and Jasper Kemp not far away. He
had the two letters ready in his pocket, with the gold piece, though he
had entertained hopes of escaping without forfeiting them, but he was
obliged to wait patiently until Jasper Kemp had read both letters
through twice, with the train in momentary danger of departing without
him, before he was finally allowed to get on board. Jasper Kemp's
parting word to him was:

"Watch your steps spry, parson. I'm agoin' to see that you're shadowed
wherever you go. You needn't think you can get shy on the Bible again.
It won't pay."

There was menace in the dry remark, and the Reverend Frederick's
professional egotism withered before it. He bowed his head, climbed on
b