p to Florence," he announced, to the profound
astonishment of his hearers.

"Indeed," politely responded Mr. Price, feeling the futility of making
any further observations. He feared to fall into some trap. The
answers made by the boys did not seem to fit particularly well with
what he expected and was accustomed to. The parson could not make out
whether the boys were joking with him, or whether their replies were
unconscious humor on their part.

"Yep, I lost an election bet, and had to go to church," answered Slim,
in all seriousness.

The cowboys laughed, and Mr. Price lamely replied: "Oh, yes, I see."

"It was a good show," continued Slim, doing his best to appear at ease.
The frantic corrections of his companions only made him flounder about
the more.

"Excuse me," he apologized, "I mean that I enjoyed it."

"Do you recall the subject of my discourse," inquired Mr. Price, coming
to his assistance.

"Your what course?" asked Slim.

"My sermon?" answered the parson.

"Well, I should say yes," replied the Sheriff, greatly relieved to
think that he was once more out of deep water. "It was about some
shorthorn that jumped the home corral to maverick around loose in the
alfalfa with a bunch of wild ones."

The explanation was too much for Mr. Price. Great student of the Bible
as he had been, here was one lesson which he had not studied. As told
by Slim, he could not recall any text or series of text from which he
might have drawn similes fitted for his cowboy congregation, when he
had one. "Really, I--" he began.

Slim, however, was not to be interrupted. If he stopped he never could
begin again, he felt. Waving to the preacher to be silent, he
continued his description: "When his wad was gone the bunch threw him
down, and he had to hike for the sage-brush an' feed with the hogs on
husks an' sech like winter fodder."

The minister caught the word "husks." Slim was repeating his own
version of the parable of the Prodigal Son.

"Husks? Oh, the Prodigal Son," smiled Price.

"That's him," Slim sighed, with relief. "This yere feed not being up
to grade, Prod he 'lows he'd pull his freight back home, square himself
with the old man and start a new deal--"

Sage-brush was deeply interested in the story. Its charm had attracted
him as it had scholars and outcasts alike since first told two thousand
years ago on the plains of Old Judea.

"Did he stand for it?" he interrupted.

"He sure did," eloq