chin' 'em! And some of these fine days he'll send down
fire out of Heaven and wipe 'em off the face of the earth!" ("Amen!
Glory! Glory! Glory!")

John Baxter was on his feet, his lean face working, the perspiration
shining on his forehead, his eyes gleaming like lamps under his rough
white eyebrows, and his clenched fists pounding the back of the chair in
front of him. His hallelujahs were the last to cease. Captain Eri had to
use some little force to pull him down on the sofa again.

Then Mrs. Small struck up, "Oh, brother, have you heard?" and they sang
it with enthusiasm. Next, Miss Mullett told her story of the brandy
and the defiance of the doctor. Nobody seemed much interested except a
nervous young man with sandy hair and a celluloid collar, who had come
with Mr. Tobias Wixon and was evidently a stranger. He had not heard it
before and seemed somewhat puzzled when Miss Abigail repeated the "Death
referred to" passage.

There was more singing. Mrs. Small "testified." So did Barzilla, with
many hesitations and false starts and an air of relief when it was
over. Then another hymn and more testimony, each speaker denouncing the
billiard saloon. Then John Baxter arose and spoke.

He began by saying that the people of Orham had been slothful in the
Lord's vineyard. They had allowed weeds to spring up and wax strong.
They had been tried and found wanting.

"I tell you, brothers and sisters," he declaimed, leaning over the chair
back and shaking a thin forefinger in Mr. Perley's face, "God has given
us a task to do and how have we done it? We've set still and let the
Devil have his way. We've talked and talked, but what have we done?
Nothin'! Nothin' at all; and now the grip of Satan is tighter on the
town than it ever has been afore. The Lord set us a watch to keep and
we've slept on watch. And now there's a trap set for every young man in
this c'munity. Do you think that that hell-hole down yonder is goin' to
shut up because we talk about it in meetin'? Do you think Web Saunders
is goin' to quit sellin' rum because we say he ought to? Do you think
God's goin' to walk up to that door and nail it up himself? No, sir! He
don't work that way! We've talked and talked, and now it's time to DO.
Ain't there anybody here that feels a call? Ain't there axes to chop
with and fire to burn? I tell you, brothers, we've waited long enough!
I--old as I am--am ready. Lord, here I am! Here I am--"

He swayed, broke into a fit of