he Methodists revelled in them, and Methodism grew with astounding
rapidity under the system.

The auditorium was simply a huge quadrangular shed with board roof
uphold by cedar posts. At one end of the shed stood the platform on
which was built the pulpit, a square box-like structure about four feet
high. The seats were made of rough-hewn half logs set on pegs driven in
augur holes. There were no backs to them. A single wide aisle led from
the end facing the pulpit, and two narrow ones intersected the main
aisle at the centre.

In front of the pulpit were placed the mourner's benches facing the
three sides of the space left for the free movement of the mourners
under the stress of religious emotion.

The Boy's mother and father were devout members of the Baptist Church,
but they were not demonstrative. They modestly and reverently took their
seats in an inconspicuous position about midway the building, entering
from one of the small aisles on the side. The Boy had often been to a
regular church service before, but this was his first camp meeting.

Four preachers sat in grim silence behind the pulpit's solid box front.
The Boy could just see the tops of their heads over the board that held
the big gilt-edged Bible.

The entire first two days and nights were given to a series of terrific
sermons on Death, Hell, and the Judgment, with a brief glimpse of the
pearly gates of Heaven and a few strains from the golden harps inside
for the damned to hear by way of contrast. The first purpose of the
preachers was to arouse a deep under-current of religious emotional
excitement that at the proper moment would explode and sweep the crowd
with resistless fire. Usually the fuse was timed to explode on the
morning of the third day. Sometimes, when sermons of extraordinary
power had followed each other in rapid succession, the fire broke out by
a sort of spontaneous combustion on the night of the second day.

It did so this time. The mother had no trouble in keeping the Boy by her
side through these first two days. He felt instinctively the growing
emotional tension about him, and knew in his bones that something would
break loose soon. He was keyed to a high pitch of interest to see just
what it would be like.

The storm broke in the middle of the second sermon on the second night.
The preacher had worked himself into a frenzy of emotional excitement.
His arms were waving over his head, his eyes blazing, his feet stamping,
hi