he gate. 'Dyke,' says the Captain
of the Logan Wildcats, in a voice so soft I could scarce hear, 'I've
come into the light! I crave to own my God and Redeemer. I long to go
down into the waters of baptism and be washed spotless of my
transgressions.' I could not move hand or foot. My tongue clove to the
roof of my mouth. Captain Anderson gripped the arms of the rocker there
as if to steady himself. A man who had tracked mountain lion and bear,
panther and catamount. I could see the face of him, that old
daredeviltry vanish away and on his countenance a childlike look of
repentance. It took a heap o' courage for Captain Anderson to admit his
transgressions even to me, his lifelong friend. But I always knew that
down deep in the heart of him there was good and that his hour would
come when he'd fall upon his knees before the Master and say, 'Here I
am, forgive me Lord, a poor sinner!' But when the words fell from his
trembling lips I could not even cry out in rejoicing, 'Thank God!', like
I always aimed to do when my comrade should come within the fold. I sat
with my jaws locked, my tongue stilled. Captain Anderson spoke again.
'Dyke,' sez he, 'brother Dyke ...' I could feel my heart pounding like
it would burst out of my breast. 'Brother Dyke,' he repeated the words
slowly, pleadingly, 'ain't you aimin' to give me the hand of
fellowship?' Then, still unable to utter a word, I reached out my hand
and my comrade seized it, gripped it tight. There we sat looking at each
other and so Miss Sallie found us as she came up the path there with her
arms filled with posies, golden glow, and scarlet sage, and snow-white
pretty-by-night just burst into bloom for it was sundown. 'Men!' said
she, 'at last you're brothers in the faith! I know it. Ah! I'd know it
from the look of peace on the faces of the two of you, even if I did not
witness the sign of your hands clasped in fellowship!' The next Sabbath
day, it fell like on the third Sunday of the month, we witnessed the
baptism of a once proud and desperate rebel. A rebel against the Master!
The baptism of him and six of his sons as well who had not before
received salvation."

Swiftly the word passed along the creeks and through the quiet hollows.
"Devil Anse has come through!" There was great rejoicing throughout the
West Virginia hills, indeed throughout the southern mountains. Not only
the leader of the Hatfields, but six of his sons, had "got religion" and
"craved baptism." Hundr