hem that He gave
you to feed. And the law has no right to preach 'no stealing' when it
fixes it so you can't help stealing. If this yere government of ours was
what it pretends to be and ain't, it would arrange so every man could
get enough work at least to feed him and his folks and save himself from
starvation when he was sick or old. There wouldn't be any stealing then
and mighty little of any other crime.

"That's my opinion; and I tell you it was that way the Big Teacher
preached it in the beginning, as you can see plain enough. And the first
ring of disciples were honest socialists. It was that letter-writing
advance agent of the trusts that you call _Saint_ Paul, that managed to
get control of the company and then twisted things back into the old
ways. And in my opinion the hull bunch of you is crooks hiding behind
the name of a good man who threw you down cold when He was alive. And
the very words He used happens to be a verse I remember: 'Ye compass sea
and land to make one proselyte and when he is made ye make him twofold
more a child of hell than yourselves.'"

And the anvil rang, "clang, clang, clang!"

"Now, Shives," bawled Jim in his stentorian voice, "you haven't _begun_
to think. And every statement you make is wrong and none of your
quotations ever happened before; otherwise, I am quite willing to accept
everything you say. For example----"

"Hello! who's this?"

Up to the door of the blacksmith shop came riding a band of mounted
Indians. First of these was a middle-sized man with large square
features, a single eagle feather in his hair. Hartigan recognized at
once the famous War Chief, Red Cloud, the leader of all the Sioux.
Riding beside him was an interpreter, and behind him was a small boy,
mounted on a tall pony--buckskin, so far as one could tell, but so
shrouded in a big blanket that little of his body was seen; his head was
bedizened with a fancy and expensive bridle gear.

The whole shop turned to see. The interpreter got down and approaching
Shives, said, "You can shoe pony, when he ain't never been shod?"

"Sure thing," said Shives, "we do it every day."

"How much?"

"Five dollars."

"Do him now?"

"Yes, I guess so."

The interpreter spoke to Red Cloud; the Chief motioned to the boy, who
dropped from the blanketed pony and led it forward.

"Bring him in here," and Shives indicated the shop. But that was not so
easy. The pony had never before been under a roof, and now he po