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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sky Pilot, by Ralph Connor
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sky Pilot
+
+Author: Ralph Connor
+
+Release Date: May 30, 2006 [EBook #3248]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY PILOT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SKY PILOT
+
+A TALE OF THE FOOTHILLS
+
+
+By Ralph Connor
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+The measure of a man's power to help his brother is the measure of the
+love in the heart of him and of the faith he has that at last the good
+will win. With this love that seeks not its own and this faith that
+grips the heart of things, he goes out to meet many fortunes, but not
+that of defeat.
+
+This story is of the people of the Foothill Country; of those men of
+adventurous spirit, who left homes of comfort, often of luxury, because
+of the stirring in them to be and to do some worthy thing; and of those
+others who, outcast from their kind, sought to find in these valleys,
+remote and lonely, a spot where they could forget and be forgotten.
+
+The waving skyline of the Foothills was the boundary of their lookout
+upon life. Here they dwelt safe from the scanning of the world, freed
+from all restraints of social law, denied the gentler influences of home
+and the sweet uplift of a good woman's face. What wonder if, with the
+new freedom beating in their hearts and ears, some rode fierce and hard
+the wild trail to the cut-bank of destruction!
+
+The story is, too, of how a man with vision beyond the waving skyline
+came to them with firm purpose to play the brother's part, and by sheer
+love of them and by faith in them, win them to believe that life is
+priceless, and that it is good to be a man.
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+I.     The Foothills Country
+
+II.    The Company of the Noble Seven
+
+III.   The Coming of the Pilot
+
+IV.    The Pilot's Measure
+
+V.     First Blood
+
+VI.    His Second Wind
+
+VII.   The Last of the Permit Sundays
+
+VIII.  The Pilot's Grip
+
+IX.    Gwen
+
+X.     Gwen's First Prayers
+
+XI.    Gwen's Challenge
+
+XII.   Gwen's Canyon
+
+XIII.  The Canyon Flowers
+
+XIV.   Bill's Bluff
+
+XV.    Bill's Partner
+
+XVI.   Bill's Financing
+
+XVII.  How the Pinto Sold
+
+XVIII. The Lady Charlotte
+
+XIX.   Through Gwen's Window
+
+XX.    How Bill Favored "Home-Grown Industries"
+
+XXI.   How Bill Hit the Trail
+
+XXII.  How the Swan Creek Church was Opened
+
+XXIII. The Pilot's Last Port
+
+
+
+
+THE SKY PILOT
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE FOOTHILLS COUNTRY
+
+
+Beyond the great prairies and in the shadow of the Rockies lie the
+Foothills. For nine hundred miles the prairies spread themselves out in
+vast level reaches, and then begin to climb over softly rounded mounds
+that ever grow higher and sharper till, here and there, they break
+into jagged points and at last rest upon the great bases of the mighty
+mountains. These rounded hills that join the prairies to the mountains
+form the Foothill Country. They extend for about a hundred miles only,
+but no other hundred miles of the great West are so full of interest
+and romance. The natural features of the country combine the beauties
+of prairie and of mountain scenery. There are valleys so wide that the
+farther side melts into the horizon, and uplands so vast as to suggest
+the unbroken prairie. Nearer the mountains the valleys dip deep and ever
+deeper till they narrow into canyons through which mountain torrents
+pour their blue-gray waters from glaciers that lie glistening between
+the white peaks far away. Here are the great ranges on which feed herds
+of cattle and horses. Here are the homes of the ranchmen, in whose wild,
+free, lonely existence there mingles much of the tragedy and comedy, the
+humor and pathos, that go to make up the romance of life. Among them are
+to be found the most enterprising, the most daring, of the peoples of
+the old lands. The broken, the outcast, the disappointed, these too
+have found their way to the ranches among the Foothills. A country it is
+whose sunlit hills and shaded valleys reflect themselves in the lives
+of its people; for nowhere are the contrasts of light and shade more
+vividly seen than in the homes of the ranchmen of the Albertas.
+
+The experiences of my life have confirmed in me the orthodox conviction
+that Providence sends his rain upon the evil as upon the good; else I
+should never have set my eyes upon the Foothill country, nor touched its
+strangely fascinating life, nor come to know and love the most striking
+man of all that group of striking men of the Foothill country--the dear
+old Pilot, as we came to call him long afterwards. My first year in
+college closed in gloom. My guardian was in despair. From this distance
+of years I pity him. Then I considered him unnecessarily concerned about
+me--"a fussy old hen," as one of the boys suggested. The invitation from
+Jack Dale, a distant cousin, to spend a summer with him on his ranch in
+South Alberta came in the nick of time. I was wild to go. My guardian
+hesitated long; but no other solution of the problem of my disposal
+offering, he finally agreed that I could not well get into more trouble
+by going than by staying. Hence it was that, in the early summer of
+one of the eighties, I found myself attached to a Hudson's Bay Company
+freight train, making our way from a little railway town in Montana
+towards the Canadian boundary. Our train consisted of six wagons
+and fourteen yoke of oxen, with three cayuses, in charge of a French
+half-breed and his son, a lad of about sixteen. We made slow enough
+progress, but every hour of the long day, from the dim, gray, misty
+light of dawn to the soft glow of shadowy evening, was full of new
+delights to me. On the evening of the third day we reached the Line
+Stopping Place, where Jack Dale met us. I remember well how my heart
+beat with admiration of the easy grace with which he sailed down upon
+us in the loose-jointed cowboy style, swinging his own bronco and the
+little cayuse he was leading for me into the circle of the wagons,
+careless of ropes and freight and other impedimenta. He flung himself
+off before his bronco had come to a stop, and gave me a grip that made
+me sure of my welcome. It was years since he had seen a man from home,
+and the eager joy in his eyes told of long days and nights of lonely
+yearning for the old days and the old faces. I came to understand this
+better after my two years' stay among these hills that have a strange
+power on some days to waken in a man longings that make his heart grow
+sick. When supper was over we gathered about the little fire, while Jack
+and the half-breed smoked and talked. I lay on my back looking up at the
+pale, steady stars in the deep blue of the cloudless sky, and listened
+in fullness of contented delight to the chat between Jack and the
+driver. Now and then I asked a question, but not too often. It is
+a listening silence that draws tales from a western man, not vexing
+questions. This much I had learned already from my three days' travel.
+So I lay and listened, and the tales of that night are mingled with the
+warm evening lights and the pale stars and the thoughts of home that
+Jack's coming seemed to bring.
+
+Next morning before sun-up we had broken camp and were ready for our
+fifty-mile ride. There was a slight drizzle of rain and, though rain and
+shine were alike to him, Jack insisted that I should wear my mackintosh.
+This garment was quite new and had a loose cape which rustled as I moved
+toward my cayuse. He was an ugly-looking little animal, with more white
+in his eye than I cared to see. Altogether, I did not draw toward him.
+Nor did he to me, apparently. For as I took him by the bridle he snorted
+and sidled about with great swiftness, and stood facing me with his feet
+planted firmly in front of him as if prepared to reject overtures of
+any kind soever. I tried to approach him with soothing words, but he
+persistently backed away until we stood looking at each other at the
+utmost distance of his outstretched neck and my outstretched arm. At
+this point Jack came to my assistance, got the pony by the other side of
+the bridle, and held him fast till I got into position to mount. Taking
+a firm grip of the horn of the Mexican saddle, I threw my leg over his
+back. The next instant I was flying over his head. My only emotion was
+one of surprise, the thing was so unexpected. I had fancied myself a
+fair rider, having had experience of farmers' colts of divers kinds, but
+this was something quite new. The half-breed stood looking on, mildly
+interested; Jack was smiling, but the boy was grinning with delight.
+
+"I'll take the little beast," said Jack. But the grinning boy braced me
+up and I replied as carelessly as my shaking voice would allow:
+
+"Oh, I guess I'll manage him," and once more got into position. But no
+sooner had I got into the saddle than the pony sprang straight up into
+the air and lit with his back curved into a bow, his four legs gathered
+together and so absolutely rigid that the shock made my teeth rattle.
+It was my first experience of "bucking." Then the little brute went
+seriously to work to get rid of the rustling, flapping thing on his
+back. He would back steadily for some seconds, then, with two or three
+forward plunges, he would stop as if shot and spring straight into the
+upper air, lighting with back curved and legs rigid as iron. Then he
+would walk on his hind legs for a few steps, then throw himself with
+amazing rapidity to one side and again proceed to buck with vicious
+diligence.
+
+"Stick to him!" yelled Jack, through his shouts of laughter. "You'll
+make him sick before long."
+
+I remember thinking that unless his insides were somewhat more
+delicately organized than his external appearance would lead one to
+suppose the chances were that the little brute would be the last to
+succumb to sickness. To make matters worse, a wilder jump than ordinary
+threw my cape up over my head, so that I was in complete darkness. And
+now he had me at his mercy, and he knew no pity. He kicked and plunged
+and reared and bucked, now on his front legs, now on his hind legs,
+often on his knees, while I, in the darkness, could only cling to
+the horn of the saddle. At last, in one of the gleams of light that
+penetrated the folds of my enveloping cape, I found that the horn had
+slipped to his side, so the next time he came to his knees I threw
+myself off. I am anxious to make this point clear, for, from the
+expression of triumph on the face of the grinning boy, and his encomiums
+of the pony, I gathered that he scored a win for the cayuse. Without
+pause that little brute continued for some seconds to buck and plunge
+even after my dismounting, as if he were some piece of mechanism that
+must run down before it could stop.
+
+By this time I was sick enough and badly shaken in my nerve, but the
+triumphant shouts and laughter of the boy and the complacent smiles on
+the faces of Jack and the half-breed stirred my wrath. I tore off the
+cape and, having got the saddle put right, seized Jack's riding whip
+and, disregarding his remonstrances, sprang on my steed once more, and
+before he could make up his mind as to his line of action plied him so
+vigorously with the rawhide that he set off over the prairie at full
+gallop, and in a few minutes came round to the camp quite subdued, to
+the boy's great disappointment and to my own great surprise. Jack
+was highly pleased, and even the stolid face of the half-breed showed
+satisfaction.
+
+"Don't think I put this up on you," Jack said. "It was that cape. He
+ain't used to such frills. But it was a circus," he added, going off
+into a fit of laughter, "worth five dollars any day."
+
+"You bet!" said the half-breed. "Dat's make pretty beeg fun, eh?"
+
+It seemed to me that it depended somewhat upon the point of view, but I
+merely agreed with him, only too glad to be so well out of the fight.
+
+All day we followed the trail that wound along the shoulders of the
+round-topped hills or down their long slopes into the wide, grassy
+valleys. Here and there the valleys were cut through by coulees through
+which ran swift, blue-gray rivers, clear and icy cold, while from the
+hilltops we caught glimpses of little lakes covered with wild-fowl that
+shrieked and squawked and splashed, careless of danger. Now and then we
+saw what made a black spot against the green of the prairie, and Jack
+told me it was a rancher's shack. How remote from the great world, and
+how lonely it seemed!--this little black shack among these multitudinous
+hills.
+
+I shall never forget the summer evening when Jack and I rode into
+Swan Creek. I say into--but the village was almost entirely one of
+imagination, in that it consisted of the Stopping Place, a long log
+building, a story and a half high, with stables behind, and the store in
+which the post-office was kept and over which the owner dwelt. But the
+situation was one of great beauty. On one side the prairie rambled down
+from the hills and then stretched away in tawny levels into the misty
+purple at the horizon; on the other it clambered over the round, sunny
+tops to the dim blue of the mountains beyond.
+
+In this world, where it is impossible to reach absolute values, we are
+forced to hold things relatively, and in contrast with the long,
+lonely miles of our ride during the day these two houses, with their
+outbuildings, seemed a center of life. Some horses were tied to the rail
+that ran along in front of the Stopping Place.
+
+"Hello!" said Jack, "I guess the Noble Seven are in town."
+
+"And who are they?" I asked.
+
+"Oh," he replied, with a shrug, "they are the elite Of Swan Creek; and
+by Jove," he added, "this must be a Permit Night."
+
+"What does that mean?" I asked, as we rode up towards the tie rail.
+
+"Well," said Jack, in a low tone, for some men were standing about the
+door, "you see, this is a prohibition country, but when one of the boys
+feels as if he were going to have a spell of sickness he gets a permit
+to bring in a few gallons for medicinal purposes; and of course, the
+other boys being similarly exposed, he invites them to assist him in
+taking preventive measures. And," added Jack, with a solemn wink, "it is
+remarkable, in a healthy country like this, how many epidemics come near
+ketching us."
+
+And with this mystifying explanation we joined the mysterious company of
+the Noble Seven.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE COMPANY OF THE NOBLE SEVEN
+
+
+As we were dismounting, the cries, "Hello, Jack!" "How do, Dale?"
+"Hello, old Smoke!" in the heartiest of tones, made me see that my
+cousin was a favorite with the men grouped about the door. Jack simply
+nodded in reply and then presented me in due form. "My tenderfoot cousin
+from the effete," he said, with a flourish. I was surprised at the grace
+of the bows made me by these roughly-dressed, wild-looking fellows. I
+might have been in a London drawing-room. I was put at my ease at once
+by the kindliness of their greeting, for, upon Jack's introduction,
+I was admitted at once into their circle, which, to a tenderfoot, was
+usually closed.
+
+What a hardy-looking lot they were! Brown, spare, sinewy and hard as
+nails, they appeared like soldiers back from a hard campaign. They moved
+and spoke with an easy, careless air of almost lazy indifference,
+but their eyes had a trick of looking straight out at you, cool and
+fearless, and you felt they were fit and ready.
+
+That night I was initiated into the Company of the Noble Seven--but of
+the ceremony I regret to say I retain but an indistinct memory; for they
+drank as they rode, hard and long, and it was only Jack's care that got
+me safely home that night.
+
+The Company of the Noble Seven was the dominant social force in the Swan
+Creek country. Indeed, it was the only social force Swan Creek knew.
+Originally consisting of seven young fellows of the best blood of
+Britain, "banded together for purposes of mutual improvement and social
+enjoyment," it had changed its character during the years, but not
+its name. First, its membership was extended to include "approved
+colonials," such as Jack Dale and "others of kindred spirit," under
+which head, I suppose, the two cowboys from the Ashley Ranch, Hi Keadal
+and "Bronco" Bill--no one knew and no one asked his other name--were
+admitted. Then its purposes gradually limited themselves to those of a
+social nature, chiefly in the line of poker-playing and whisky-drinking.
+Well born and delicately bred in that atmosphere of culture mingled with
+a sturdy common sense and a certain high chivalry which surrounds the
+stately homes of Britain, these young lads, freed from the restraints
+of custom and surrounding, soon shed all that was superficial in their
+make-up and stood forth in the naked simplicity of their native manhood.
+The West discovered and revealed the man in them, sometimes to their
+honor, often to their shame. The Chief of the Company was the Hon. Fred
+Ashley, of the Ashley Ranch, sometime of Ashley Court, England--a big,
+good-natured man with a magnificent physique, a good income from home,
+and a beautiful wife, the Lady Charlotte, daughter of a noble English
+family. At the Ashley Ranch the traditions of Ashley Court were
+preserved as far as possible. The Hon. Fred appeared at the wolf-hunts
+in riding-breeches and top boots, with hunting crop and English saddle,
+while in all the appointments of the house the customs of the English
+home were observed. It was characteristic, however, of western life that
+his two cowboys, Hi Kendal and Bronco Bill, felt themselves quite his
+social equals, though in the presence of his beautiful, stately wife
+they confessed that they "rather weakened." Ashley was a thoroughly good
+fellow, well up to his work as a cattle-man, and too much of a gentleman
+to feel, much less assert, any superiority of station. He had the
+largest ranch in the country and was one of the few men making money.
+
+Ashley's chief friend, or, at least, most frequent companion, was a man
+whom they called "The Duke." No one knew his name, but every one said
+he was "the son of a lord," and certainly from his style and bearing
+he might be the son of almost anything that was high enough in rank. He
+drew "a remittance," but, as that was paid through Ashley, no one knew
+whence it came nor how much it was. He was a perfect picture of a man,
+and in all western virtues was easily first. He could rope a steer,
+bunch cattle, play poker or drink whisky to the admiration of his
+friends and the confusion of his foes, of whom he had a few; while as to
+"bronco busting," the virtue par excellence of western cattle-men, even
+Bronco Bill was heard to acknowledge that "he wasn't in it with the
+Dook, for it was his opinion that he could ride anythin' that had legs
+in under it, even if it was a blanked centipede." And this, coming from
+one who made a profession of "bronco busting," was unquestionably high
+praise. The Duke lived alone, except when he deigned to pay a visit
+to some lonely rancher who, for the marvellous charm of his talk, was
+delighted to have him as guest, even at the expense of the loss of a few
+games at poker. He made a friend of no one, though some men could tell
+of times when he stood between them and their last dollar, exacting only
+the promise that no mention should be made of his deed. He had an easy,
+lazy manner and a slow cynical smile that rarely left his face, and the
+only sign of deepening passion in him was a little broadening of his
+smile. Old Latour, who kept the Stopping Place, told me how once The
+Duke had broken into a gentle laugh. A French half-breed freighter on
+his way north had entered into a game of poker with The Duke, with the
+result that his six months' pay stood in a little heap at his enemy's
+left hand. The enraged freighter accused his smiling opponent of being a
+cheat, and was proceeding to demolish him with one mighty blow. But
+The Duke, still smiling, and without moving from his chair, caught the
+descending fist, slowly crushed the fingers open, and steadily drew the
+Frenchman to his knees, gripping him so cruelly in the meantime that he
+was forced to cry aloud in agony for mercy. Then it was that The Duke
+broke into a light laugh and, touching the kneeling Frenchman on his
+cheek with his finger-tips, said: "Look here, my man, you shouldn't
+play the game till you know how to do it and with whom you play." Then,
+handing him back the money, he added: "I want money, but not yours."
+Then, as he sat looking at the unfortunate wretch dividing his attention
+between his money and his bleeding fingers, he once more broke into a
+gentle laugh that was not good to hear.
+
+The Duke was by all odds the most striking figure in the Company of
+the Noble Seven, and his word went farther than that of any other.
+His shadow was Bruce, an Edinburgh University man, metaphysical,
+argumentative, persistent, devoted to The Duke. Indeed, his chief
+ambition was to attain to The Duke's high and lordly manner; but,
+inasmuch as he was rather squat in figure and had an open, good-natured
+face and a Scotch voice of the hard and rasping kind, his attempts at
+imitation were not conspicuously successful. Every mail that reached
+Swan Creek brought him a letter from home. At first, after I had got
+to know him, he would give me now and then a letter to read, but as the
+tone became more and more anxious he ceased to let me read them, and I
+was glad enough of this. How he could read those letters and go the pace
+of the Noble Seven I could not see. Poor Bruce! He had good impulses, a
+generous heart, but the "Permit" nights and the hunts and the "roundups"
+and the poker and all the wild excesses of the Company were more than he
+could stand.
+
+Then there were the two Hill brothers, the younger, Bertie, a
+fair-haired, bright-faced youngster, none too able to look after
+himself, but much inclined to follies of all degrees and sorts. But
+he was warm-hearted and devoted to his big brother, Humphrey, called
+"Hump," who had taken to ranching mainly with the idea of looking after
+his younger brother. And no easy matter that was, for every one liked
+the lad and in consequence helped him down.
+
+In addition to these there were two others of the original seven, but by
+force of circumstances they were prevented from any more than a nominal
+connection with the Company. Blake, a typical wild Irishman, had joined
+the police at the Fort, and Gifford had got married and, as Bill said,
+"was roped tighter'n a steer."
+
+The Noble Company, with the cowboys that helped on the range and two or
+three farmers that lived nearer the Fort, composed the settlers of the
+Swan Creek country. A strange medley of people of all ranks and nations,
+but while among them there were the evil-hearted and evil-living, still,
+for the Noble Company I will say that never have I fallen in with men
+braver, truer, or of warmer heart. Vices they had, all too apparent and
+deadly, but they were due rather to the circumstances of their lives
+than to the native tendencies of their hearts. Throughout that summer
+and the winter following I lived among them, camping on the range with
+them and sleeping in their shacks, bunching cattle in summer and hunting
+wolves in winter, nor did I, for I was no wiser than they, refuse my
+part on "Permit" nights; but through all not a man of them ever failed
+to be true to his standard of honor in the duties of comradeship and
+brotherhood.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE COMING OF THE PILOT
+
+
+He was the first missionary ever seen in the country, and it was the Old
+Timer who named him. The Old Timer's advent to the Foothill country
+was prehistoric, and his influence was, in consequence, immense. No one
+ventured to disagree with him, for to disagree with the Old Timer was to
+write yourself down a tenderfoot, which no one, of course, cared to do.
+It was a misfortune which only time could repair to be a new-comer, and
+it was every new-comer's aim to assume with all possible speed the style
+and customs of the aristocratic Old Timers, and to forget as soon as
+possible the date of his own arrival. So it was as "The Sky Pilot,"
+familiarly "The Pilot," that the missionary went for many a day in the
+Swan Creek country.
+
+I had become schoolmaster of Swan Creek. For in the spring a kind
+Providence sent in the Muirs and the Bremans with housefuls of
+children, to the ranchers' disgust, for they foresaw ploughed fields
+and barbed-wire fences cramping their unlimited ranges. A school
+became necessary. A little log building was erected and I was appointed
+schoolmaster. It was as schoolmaster that I first came to touch The
+Pilot, for the letter which the Hudson Bay freighters brought me early
+one summer evening bore the inscription:
+
+
+     The Schoolmaster,
+               Public School,
+                        Swan Creek,
+                                 Alberta.
+
+
+There was altogether a fine air about the letter; the writing was in
+fine, small hand, the tone was fine, and there was something fine in the
+signature--"Arthur Wellington Moore." He was glad to know that there was
+a school and a teacher in Swan Creek, for a school meant children, in
+whom his soul delighted; and in the teacher he would find a friend,
+and without a friend he could not live. He took me into his confidence,
+telling me that though he had volunteered for this far-away mission
+field he was not much of a preacher and he was not at all sure that he
+would succeed. But he meant to try, and he was charmed at the prospect
+of having one sympathizer at least. Would I be kind enough to put up in
+some conspicuous place the enclosed notice, filling in the blanks as I
+thought best?
+
+
+      "Divine service will be held at Swan creek
+       in ---- ----- at ---- o'clock.
+          All are cordially invited.
+                    Arthur Wellington Moore."
+
+
+On the whole I liked his letter. I liked its modest self-depreciation
+and I liked its cool assumption of my sympathy and co-operation. But I
+was perplexed. I remembered that Sunday was the day fixed for the great
+baseball match, when those from "Home," as they fondly called the land
+across the sea from which they had come, were to "wipe the earth" with
+all comers. Besides, "Divine service" was an innovation in Swan Creek
+and I felt sure that, like all innovations that suggested the approach
+of the East, it would be by no means welcome.
+
+However, immediately under the notice of the "Grand Baseball Match for
+'The Pain Killer' a week from Sunday, at 2:30, Home vs. the World," I
+pinned on the door of the Stopping Place the announcement:
+
+
+"Divine service will be held at Swan Creek, in the Stopping Place
+Parlor, a week from Sunday, immediately upon the conclusion of the
+baseball match.
+
+"Arthur Wellington Moore."
+
+
+There was a strange incongruity in the two, and an unconscious challenge
+as well.
+
+All next day, which was Saturday, and, indeed, during the following
+week, I stood guard over my notice, enjoying the excitement it produced
+and the comments it called forth. It was the advance wave of the
+great ocean of civilization which many of them had been glad to leave
+behind--some could have wished forever.
+
+To Robert Muir, one of the farmers newly arrived, the notice was a
+harbinger of good. It stood for progress, markets and a higher price
+for land; albeit he wondered "hoo he wad be keepit up." But his
+hard-wrought, quick-spoken little wife at his elbow "hooted" his
+scruples and, thinking of her growing lads, welcomed with unmixed
+satisfaction the coming of "the meenister." Her satisfaction was shared
+by all the mothers and most of the fathers in the settlement; but by the
+others, and especially by that rollicking, roistering crew, the Company
+of the Noble Seven, the missionary's coming was viewed with varying
+degrees of animosity. It meant a limitation of freedom in their wildly
+reckless living. The "Permit" nights would now, to say the least, be
+subject to criticism; the Sunday wolf-hunts and horse-races, with their
+attendant delights, would now be pursued under the eye of the Church,
+and this would not add to the enjoyment of them. One great charm of the
+country, which Bruce, himself the son of an Edinburgh minister, and now
+Secretary of the Noble Seven, described as "letting a fellow do as he
+blanked pleased," would be gone. None resented more bitterly than he the
+missionary's intrusion, which he declared to be an attempt "to
+reimpose upon their freedom the trammels of an antiquated and bigoted
+conventionality." But the rest of the Company, while not taking
+so decided a stand, were agreed that the establishment of a church
+institution was an objectionable and impertinent as well as unnecessary
+proceeding.
+
+Of course, Hi Kendal and his friend Bronco Bill had no opinion one way
+or the other. The Church could hardly affect them even remotely. A dozen
+years' stay in Montana had proved with sufficient clearness to them that
+a church was a luxury of civilization the West might well do without.
+
+Outside the Company of the Noble Seven there was only one whose opinion
+had value in Swan Creek, and that was the Old Timer. The Company had
+sought to bring him in by making him an honorary member, but he refused
+to be drawn from his home far up among the hills, where he lived with
+his little girl Gwen and her old half-breed nurse, Ponka. The approach
+of the church he seemed to resent as a personal injury. It represented
+to him that civilization from which he had fled fifteen years ago with
+his wife and baby girl, and when five years later he laid his wife in
+the lonely grave that could be seen on the shaded knoll just fronting
+his cabin door, the last link to his past was broken. From all that
+suggested the great world beyond the run of the Prairie he shrank as one
+shrinks from a sudden touch upon an old wound.
+
+"I guess I'll have to move back," he said to me gloomily.
+
+"Why?" I said in surprise, thinking of his grazing range, which was
+ample for his herd.
+
+"This blank Sky Pilot." He never swore except when unusually moved.
+
+"Sky Pilot?" I inquired.
+
+He nodded and silently pointed to the notice.
+
+"Oh, well, he won't hurt you, will he?"
+
+"Can't stand it," he answered savagely, "must get away."
+
+"What about Gwen?" I ventured, for she was the light of his eyes. "Pity
+to stop her studies." I was giving her weekly lessons at the old man's
+ranch.
+
+"Dunno. Ain't figgered out yet about that baby." She was still his baby.
+"Guess she's all she wants for the Foothills, anyway. What's the use?"
+he added, bitterly, talking to himself after the manner of men who live
+much alone.
+
+I waited for a moment, then said: "Well, I wouldn't hurry about doing
+anything," knowing well that the one thing an old-timer hates to do is
+to make any change in his mode of life. "Maybe he won't stay."
+
+He caught at this eagerly. "That's so! There ain't much to keep him,
+anyway," and he rode off to his lonely ranch far up in the hills.
+
+I looked after the swaying figure and tried to picture his past with its
+tragedy; then I found myself wondering how he would end and what would
+come to his little girl. And I made up my mind that if the missionary
+were the right sort his coming might not be a bad thing for the Old
+Timer and perhaps for more than him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE PILOT'S MEASURE
+
+
+It was Hi Kendal that announced the arrival of the missionary. I was
+standing at the door of my school, watching the children ride off
+home on their ponies, when Hi came loping along on his bronco in the
+loose-jointed cowboy style.
+
+"Well," he drawled out, bringing his bronco to a dead stop in a single
+bound, "he's lit."
+
+"Lit? Where? What?" said I, looking round for an eagle or some other
+flying thing.
+
+"Your blanked Sky Pilot, and he's a beauty, a pretty kid--looks too
+tender for this climate. Better not let him out on the range." Hi was
+quite disgusted, evidently.
+
+"What's the matter with him, Hi?"
+
+"Why, HE ain't no parson! I don't go much on parsons, but when I calls
+for one I don't want no bantam chicken. No, sirree, horse! I don't want
+no blankety-blank, pink-and-white complected nursery kid foolin' round
+my graveyard. If you're goin' to bring along a parson, why bring him
+with his eye-teeth cut and his tail feathers on."
+
+That Hi was deeply disappointed was quite clear from the selection of
+the profanity with which he adorned this lengthy address. It was
+never the extent of his profanity, but the choice, that indicated Hi's
+interest in any subject.
+
+Altogether, the outlook for the missionary was not encouraging. With
+the single exception of the Muirs, who really counted for little, nobody
+wanted him. To most of the reckless young bloods of the Company of the
+Noble Seven his presence was an offence; to others simply a nuisance,
+while the Old Timer regarded his advent with something like dismay; and
+now Hi's impression of his personal appearance was not cheering.
+
+My first sight of him did not reassure me. He was very slight, very
+young, very innocent, with a face that might do for an angel, except for
+the touch of humor in it, but which seemed strangely out of place among
+the rough, hard faces that were to be seen in the Swan Creek Country.
+It was not a weak face, however. The forehead was high and square, the
+mouth firm, and the eyes were luminous, of some dark color--violet, if
+there is such a color in eyes--dreamy or sparkling, according to
+his mood; eyes for which a woman might find use, but which, in a
+missionary's head, appeared to me one of those extraordinary wastes of
+which Nature is sometimes guilty.
+
+He was gazing far away into space infinitely beyond the Foothills and
+the blue line of the mountains behind them. He turned to me as I drew
+near, with eyes alight and face glowing.
+
+"It is glorious," he almost panted. "You see this everyday!" Then,
+recalling himself, he came eagerly toward me, stretching out his hand.
+"You are the schoolmaster, I know. Do you know, it's a great thing? I
+wanted to be one, but I never could get the boys on. They always got
+me telling them tales. I was awfully disappointed. I am trying the next
+best thing. You see, I won't have to keep order, but I don't think I
+can preach very well. I am going to visit your school. Have you many
+scholars? Do you know, I think it's splendid? I wish I could do it."
+
+I had intended to be somewhat stiff with him, but his evident admiration
+of me made me quite forget this laudable intention, and, as he talked
+on without waiting for an answer, his enthusiasm, his deference to my
+opinion, his charm of manner, his beautiful face, his luminous eyes,
+made him perfectly irresistible; and before I was aware I was listening
+to his plans for working his mission with eager interest. So eager was
+my interest, indeed, that before I was aware I found myself asking him
+to tea with me in my shack. But he declined, saying:
+
+"I'd like to, awfully; but do you know, I think Latour expects me."
+
+This consideration of Latour's feelings almost upset me.
+
+"You come with me," he added, and I went.
+
+Latour welcomed us with his grim old face wreathed in unusual smiles.
+The pilot had been talking to him, too.
+
+"I've got it, Latour!" he cried out as he entered; "here you are,"
+and he broke into the beautiful French-Canadian chanson, "A la Claire
+Fontaine," to the old half-breed's almost tearful delight.
+
+"Do you know," he went on, "I heard that first down the Mattawa,"
+and away he went into a story of an experience with French-Canadian
+raftsmen, mixing up his French and English in so charming a manner that
+Latour; who in his younger days long ago had been a shantyman himself,
+hardly knew whether he was standing on his head or on his heels.
+
+After tea I proposed a ride out to see the sunset from the nearest
+rising ground. Latour, with unexampled generosity, offered his own
+cayuse, "Louis."
+
+"I can't ride well," protested The Pilot.
+
+"Ah! dat's good ponee, Louis," urged Latour. "He's quiet lak wan leetle
+mouse; he's ride lak--what you call?--wan horse-on-de-rock." Under which
+persuasion the pony was accepted.
+
+That evening I saw the Swan Creek country with new eyes--through the
+luminous eyes of The Pilot. We rode up the trail by the side of the Swan
+till we came to the coulee mouth, dark and full of mystery.
+
+"Come on," I said, "we must get to the top for the sunset."
+
+He looked lingeringly into the deep shadows and asked: "Anything live
+down there?"
+
+"Coyotes and wolves and ghosts."
+
+"Ghosts?" he asked, delightedly. "Do you know, I was sure there were,
+and I'm quite sure I shall see them."
+
+Then we took the Porcupine trail and climbed for about two miles the
+gentle slope to the top of the first rising ground. There we stayed and
+watched the sun take his nightly plunge into the sea of mountains, now
+dimly visible. Behind us stretched the prairie, sweeping out level to
+the sky and cut by the winding coulee of the Swan. Great long shadows
+from the hills were lying upon its yellow face, and far at the distant
+edge the gray haze was deepening into purple. Before us lay the hills,
+softly curving like the shoulders of great sleeping monsters, their tops
+still bright, but the separating valleys full of shadow. And there, far
+beyond them, up against the sky, was the line of the mountains--blue,
+purple, and gold, according as the light fell upon them. The sun had
+taken his plunge, but he had left behind him his robes of saffron and
+gold. We stood long without a word or movement, filling our hearts with
+the silence and the beauty, till the gold in the west began to grow dim.
+High above all the night was stretching her star-pierced, blue canopy,
+and drawing slowly up from the east over the prairie and over the
+sleeping hills the soft folds of a purple haze. The great silence of the
+dying day had fallen upon the world and held us fast.
+
+"Listen," he said, in a low tone, pointing to the hills. "Can't you
+hear them breathe?" And, looking at their curving shoulders, I fancied I
+could see them slowly heaving as if in heavy sleep, and I was quite sure
+I could hear them breathe. I was under the spell of his voice and his
+eyes, and nature was all living to me then.
+
+We rode back to the Stopping Place in silence, except for a word of mine
+now and then which he heeded not; and, with hardly a good night, he
+left me at the door. I turned away feeling as if I had been in a strange
+country and among strange people.
+
+How would he do with the Swan Creek folk? Could he make them see the
+hills breathe? Would they feel as I felt under his voice and eyes? What
+a curious mixture he was! I was doubtful about his first Sunday, and was
+surprised to find all my indifference as to his success or failure gone.
+It was a pity about the baseball match. I would speak to some of the men
+about it to-morrow.
+
+Hi might be disappointed in his appearance, but, as I turned into my
+shack and thought over my last two hours with The Pilot and how he had
+"got" old Latour and myself, I began to think that Hi might be mistaken
+in his measure of The Pilot.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+FIRST BLOOD
+
+
+One is never so enthusiastic in the early morning, when the emotions are
+calmest and the nerves at their steadiest. But I was determined to try
+to have the baseball match postponed. There could be no difficulty. One
+day was as much of a holiday as another to these easy-going fellows.
+But The Duke, when I suggested a change in the day, simply raised his
+eyebrows an eighth of an inch and said:
+
+"Can't see why the day should be changed." Bruce stormed and swore all
+sorts of destruction upon himself if he was going to change his style of
+life for any man. The others followed The Duke's lead.
+
+That Sunday was a day of incongruities. The Old and the New, the
+East and the West, the reverential Past and iconoclastic Present were
+jumbling themselves together in bewildering confusion. The baseball
+match was played with much vigor and profanity. The expression on The
+Pilot's face, as he stood watching for a while, was a curious mixture of
+interest, surprise, doubt and pain. He was readjusting himself. He was
+so made as to be extremely sensitive to his surroundings. He took on
+color quickly. The utter indifference to the audacious disregard of all
+he had hitherto considered sacred and essential was disconcerting. They
+were all so dead sure. How did he know they were wrong? It was his first
+near view of practical, living skepticism. Skepticism in a book did not
+disturb him; he could put down words against it. But here it was alive,
+cheerful, attractive, indeed fascinating; for these men in their western
+garb and with their western swing had captured his imagination. He was
+in a fierce struggle, and in a few minutes I saw him disappear into the
+coulee.
+
+Meantime the match went uproariously on to a finish, with the result
+that the champions of "Home" had "to stand The Painkiller," their defeat
+being due chiefly to the work of Hi and Bronco Bill as pitcher and
+catcher.
+
+The celebration was in full swing; or as Hi put it, "the boys were
+takin' their pizen good an' calm," when in walked The Pilot. His face
+was still troubled and his lips were drawn and blue, as if he were in
+pain. A silence fell on the men as he walked in through the crowd and up
+to the bar. He stood a moment hesitating, looking round upon the faces
+flushed and hot that were now turned toward him in curious defiance. He
+noticed the look, and it pulled him together. He faced about toward old
+Latour and asked in a high, clear voice:
+
+"Is this the room you said we might have?"
+
+The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders and said:
+
+"There is not any more."
+
+The lad paused for an instant, but only for an instant. Then, lifting a
+pile of hymn books he had near him on the counter, he said in a grave,
+sweet voice, and with the quiver of a smile about his lips:
+
+"Gentlemen, Mr. Latour has allowed me this room for a religious service.
+It will give me great pleasure if you will all join," and immediately he
+handed a book to Bronco Bill, who, surprised, took it as if he did not
+know what to do with it. The others followed Bronco's lead till he came
+to Bruce, who refused, saying roughly:
+
+"No! I don't want it; I've no use for it."
+
+The missionary flushed and drew back as if he had been struck, but
+immediately, as if unconsciously, The Duke, who was standing near,
+stretched out his hand and said, with a courteous bow, "I thank you; I
+should be glad of one."
+
+"Thank you," replied The Pilot, simply, as he handed him a book. The men
+seated themselves upon the bench that ran round the room, or leaned up
+against the counter, and most of them took off their hats. Just then in
+came Muir, and behind him his little wife.
+
+In an instant The Duke was on his feet, and every hat came off.
+
+The missionary stood up at the bar, and announced the hymn, "Jesus,
+Lover of My Soul." The silence that followed was broken by the sound of
+a horse galloping. A buckskin bronco shot past the window, and in a few
+moments there appeared at the door the Old Timer. He was about to stride
+in when the unusual sight of a row of men sitting solemnly with hymn
+books in their hands held him fast at the door. He gazed in an amazed,
+helpless way upon the men, then at the missionary, then back at the men,
+and stood speechless. Suddenly there was a high, shrill, boyish laugh,
+and the men turned to see the missionary in a fit of laughter. It
+certainly was a shock to any lingering ideas of religious propriety they
+might have about them; but the contrast between his frank, laughing face
+and the amazed and disgusted face of the shaggy old man in the doorway
+was too much for them, and one by one they gave way to roars of
+laughter. The Old Timer, however, kept his face unmoved, strode up to
+the bar and nodded to old Latour, who served him his drink, which he
+took at a gulp.
+
+"Here, old man!" called out Bill, "get into the game; here's your deck,"
+offering him his book. But the missionary was before him, and, with very
+beautiful grace, he handed the Old Timer a book and pointed him to a
+seat.
+
+I shall never forget that service. As a religious affair it was a dead
+failure, but somehow I think The Pilot, as Hi approvingly said, "got in
+his funny work," and it was not wholly a defeat. The first hymn was sung
+chiefly by the missionary and Mrs. Muir, whose voice was very high, with
+one or two of the men softly whistling an accompaniment. The second hymn
+was better, and then came the Lesson, the story of the feeding of the
+five thousand. As the missionary finished the story, Bill, who had been
+listening with great interest, said:
+
+"I say, pard, I think I'll call you just now."
+
+"I beg your pardon!" said the startled missionary.
+
+"You're givin' us quite a song and dance now, ain't you?"
+
+"I don't understand," was the puzzled reply.
+
+"How many men was there in the crowd?" asked Bill, with a judicial air.
+
+"Five thousand."
+
+"And how much grub?"
+
+"Five loaves and two fishes," answered Bruce for the missionary.
+
+"Well," drawled Bill, with the air of a man who has reached a
+conclusion, "that's a little too unusual for me. Why," looking pityingly
+at the missionary, "it ain't natarel."
+
+"Right you are, my boy," said Bruce, with a laugh. "It's deucedly
+unnatural."
+
+"Not for Him," said the missionary, quietly. Then Bruce joyfully took
+him up and led him on into a discussion of evidences, and from evidences
+into metaphysics, the origin of evil and the freedom of the will, till
+the missionary, as Bill said, "was rattled worse nor a rooster in the
+dark." Poor little Mrs. Muir was much scandalized and looked anxiously
+at her husband, wishing him to take her out. But help came from an
+unexpected quarter, and Hi suddenly called out:
+
+"Here you, Bill, shut your blanked jaw, and you, Bruce, give the man a
+chance to work off his music."
+
+"That's so! Fair play! Go on!" were the cries that came in response to
+Hi's appeal.
+
+The missionary, who was all trembling and much troubled, gave Hi a
+grateful look, and said:
+
+"I'm afraid there are a great many things I don't understand, and I am
+not good at argument." There were shouts of "Go on! fire ahead, play the
+game!" but he said, "I think we will close the service with a hymn." His
+frankness and modesty, and his respectful, courteous manner gained the
+sympathy of the men, so that all joined heartily in singing, "Sun of My
+Soul." In the prayer that followed his voice grew steady and his nerve
+came back to him. The words were very simple, and the petitions were
+mostly for light and for strength. With a few words of remembrance of
+"those in our homes far away who think of us and pray for us and never
+forget," this strange service was brought to a close.
+
+After the missionary had stepped out, the whole affair was discussed
+with great warmth. Hi Kendal thought "The Pilot didn't have no fair
+show," maintaining that when he was "ropin' a steer he didn't want no
+blanked tenderfoot to be shovin' in his rope like Bill there." But Bill
+steadily maintained his position that "the story of that there picnic
+was a little too unusual" for him. Bruce was trying meanwhile to beguile
+The Duke into a discussion of the physics and metaphysics of the case.
+But The Duke refused with quiet contempt to be drawn into a region where
+he felt himself a stranger. He preferred poker himself, if Bruce
+cared to take a hand; and so the evening went on, with the theological
+discussion by Hi and Bill in a judicial, friendly spirit in one corner,
+while the others for the most part played poker.
+
+When the missionary returned late there were only a few left in the
+room, among them The Duke and Bruce, who was drinking steadily and
+losing money. The missionary's presence seemed to irritate him, and he
+played even more recklessly than usual, swearing deeply at every loss.
+At the door the missionary stood looking up into the night sky and
+humming softly "Sun of My Soul," and after a few minutes The Duke joined
+in humming a bass to the air till Bruce could contain himself no longer.
+
+"I say," he called out, "this isn't any blanked prayer-meeting, is it?"
+
+The Duke ceased humming, and, looking at Bruce, said quietly: "Well,
+what is it? What's the trouble?"
+
+"Trouble!" shouted Bruce. "I don't see what hymn-singing has to do with
+a poker game."
+
+"Oh, I see! I beg pardon! Was I singing?" said The Duke. Then after a
+pause he added, "You're quite right. I say, Bruce, let's quit. Something
+has got on to your nerves." And coolly sweeping his pile into his
+pocket, he gave up the game. With an oath Bruce left the table, took
+another drink, and went unsteadily out to his horse, and soon we heard
+him ride away into the darkness, singing snatches of the hymn and
+swearing the most awful oaths.
+
+The missionary's face was white with horror. It was all new and horrible
+to him.
+
+"Will he get safely home?" he asked of The Duke.
+
+"Don't you worry, youngster," said The Duke, in his loftiest manner,
+"he'll get along."
+
+The luminous, dreamy eyes grew hard and bright as they looked The Duke
+in the face.
+
+"Yes, I shall worry; but you ought to worry more."
+
+"Ah!" said The Duke, raising his brows and smiling gently upon the
+bright, stern young face lifted up to his. "I didn't notice that I had
+asked your opinion."
+
+"If anything should happen to him," replied the missionary, quickly, "I
+should consider you largely responsible."
+
+"That would be kind," said The Duke, still smiling with his lips. But
+after a moment's steady look into the missionary's eyes he nodded his
+head twice or thrice, and, without further word, turned away.
+
+The missionary turned eagerly to me:
+
+"They beat me this afternoon," he cried, "but thank God, I know now
+they are wrong and I am right! I don't understand! I can't see my way
+through! But I am right! It's true! I feel it's true! Men can't live
+without Him, and be men!"
+
+And long after I went to my shack that night I saw before me the eager
+face with the luminous eyes and heard the triumphant cry: "I feel it's
+true! Men can't live without Him, and be men!" and I knew that though
+his first Sunday ended in defeat there was victory yet awaiting him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+HIS SECOND WIND
+
+
+The first weeks were not pleasant for The Pilot. He had been beaten, and
+the sense of failure damped his fine enthusiasm, which was one of his
+chief charms. The Noble Seven despised, ignored, or laughed at him,
+according to their mood and disposition. Bruce patronized him; and,
+worst of all, the Muirs pitied him. This last it was that brought him
+low, and I was glad of it. I find it hard to put up with a man that
+enjoys pity.
+
+It was Hi Kendal that restored him, though Hi had no thought of doing
+so good a deed. It was in this way: A baseball match was on with The
+Porcupines from near the Fort. To Hi's disgust and the team's dismay
+Bill failed to appear. It was Hi's delight to stand up for Bill's
+pitching, and their battery was the glory of the Home team.
+
+"Try The Pilot, Hi," said some one, chaffing him.
+
+Hi looked glumly across at The Pilot standing some distance, away; then
+called out, holding up the ball:
+
+"Can you play the game?"
+
+For answer Moore held up his hands for a catch. Hi tossed him the ball
+easily. The ball came back so quickly that Hi was hardly ready, and the
+jar seemed to amaze him exceedingly.
+
+"I'll take him," he said, doubtfully, and the game began. Hi fitted on
+his mask, a new importation and his peculiar pride, and waited.
+
+"How do you like them?" asked The Pilot.
+
+"Hot!" said Hi. "I hain't got no gloves to burn."
+
+The Pilot turned his back, swung off one foot on to the other and
+discharged his ball.
+
+"Strike!" called the umpire.
+
+"You bet!" said Hi, with emphasis, but his face was a picture of
+amazement and dawning delight.
+
+Again The Pilot went through the manoeuvre in his box and again the
+umpire called:
+
+"Strike!"
+
+Hi stopped the ball without holding it and set himself for the third.
+Once more that disconcerting swing and the whip-like action of the arm,
+and for the third time the umpire called:
+
+"Strike! Striker out!"
+
+"That's the hole," yelled Hi.
+
+The Porcupines were amazed. Hi looked at the ball in his hand, then at
+the slight figure of The Pilot.
+
+"I say! where do you get it?"
+
+"What?" asked Moore innocently.
+
+"The gait!"
+
+"The what?"
+
+"The gait! the speed, you know!"
+
+"Oh! I used to play in Princeton a little."
+
+"Did, eh? What the blank blank did you quit for?"
+
+He evidently regarded the exchange of the profession of baseball for the
+study of theology as a serious error in judgment, and in this opinion
+every inning of the game confirmed him. At the bat The Pilot did not
+shine, but he made up for light hitting by his base-running. He was
+fleet as a deer, and he knew the game thoroughly. He was keen, eager,
+intense in play, and before the innings were half over he was recognized
+as the best all-round man on the field. In the pitcher's box he puzzled
+the Porcupines till they grew desperate and hit wildly and blindly,
+amid the jeers of the spectators. The bewilderment of the Porcupines was
+equaled only by the enthusiasm of Hi and his nine, and when the game was
+over the score stood 37 to 7 in favor of the Home team. They carried The
+Pilot off the field.
+
+From that day Moore was another man. He had won the unqualified respect
+of Hi Kendal and most of the others, for he could beat them at their own
+game and still be modest about it. Once more his enthusiasm came back
+and his brightness and his courage. The Duke was not present to witness
+his triumph, and, besides, he rather despised the game. Bruce was there,
+however, but took no part in the general acclaim; indeed, he seemed
+rather disgusted with Moore's sudden leap into favor. Certainly his
+hostility to The Pilot and to all that he stood for was none the less
+open and bitter.
+
+The hostility was more than usually marked at the service held on the
+Sunday following. It was, perhaps, thrown into stronger relief by the
+open and delighted approval of Hi, who was prepared to back up anything
+The Pilot would venture to say. Bill, who had not witnessed The Pilot's
+performance in the pitcher's box, but had only Hi's enthusiastic
+report to go upon, still preserved his judicial air. It is fair to say,
+however, that there was no mean-spirited jealousy in Bill's heart even
+though Hi had frankly assured him that The Pilot was "a demon," and
+could "give him points." Bill had great confidence in Hi's opinion upon
+baseball, but he was not prepared to surrender his right of private
+judgment in matters theological, so he waited for the sermon before
+committing himself to any enthusiastic approval. This service was an
+undoubted success. The singing was hearty, and insensibly the men fell
+into a reverent attitude during prayer. The theme, too, was one that
+gave little room for skepticism. It was the story of Zaccheus, and
+story-telling was Moore's strong point. The thing was well done.
+Vivid portraitures of the outcast, shrewd, converted publican and the
+supercilious, self-complacent, critical Pharisee were drawn with a few
+deft touches. A single sentence transferred them to the Foothills and
+arrayed them in cowboy garb. Bill was none too sure of himself, but
+Hi, with delightful winks, was indicating Bruce as the Pharisee, to the
+latter's scornful disgust. The preacher must have noticed, for with a
+very clever turn the Pharisee was shown to be the kind of man who likes
+to fit faults upon others. Then Bill, digging his elbows into Hi's ribs,
+said in an audible whisper:
+
+"Say, pardner, how does it fit now?"
+
+"You git out!" answered Hi, indignantly, but his confidence in his
+interpretation of the application was shaken. When Moore came to
+describe the Master and His place in that ancient group, we in the
+Stopping Place parlor fell under the spell of his eyes and voice, and
+our hearts were moved within us. That great Personality was made
+very real and very winning. Hi was quite subdued by the story and the
+picture. Bill was perplexed; it was all new to him; but Bruce was mainly
+irritated. To him it was all old and filled with memories he hated to
+face. At any rate he was unusually savage that evening, drank heavily
+and went home late, raging and cursing at things in general and The
+Pilot in particular--for Moore, in a timid sort of way, had tried to
+quiet him and help him to his horse.
+
+"Ornery sort o' beast now, ain't he?" said Hi, with the idea of
+comforting The Pilot, who stood sadly looking after Bruce disappearing
+in the gloom.
+
+"No! no!" he answered, quickly, "not a beast, but a brother."
+
+"Brother! Not much, if I know my relations!" answered Hi, disgustedly.
+
+"The Master thinks a good deal of him," was the earnest reply.
+
+"Git out!" said Hi, "you don't mean it! Why," he added, decidedly, "he's
+more stuck on himself than that mean old cuss you was tellin' about this
+afternoon, and without half the reason."
+
+But Moore only said, kindly, "Don't be hard on him, Hi," and turned
+away, leaving Hi and Bill gravely discussing the question, with the aid
+of several drinks of whisky. They were still discussing when, an hour
+later, they, too, disappeared into the darkness that swallowed up the
+trail to Ashley Ranch. That was the first of many such services. The
+preaching was always of the simplest kind, abstract questions being
+avoided and the concrete in those wonderful Bible tales, dressed in
+modern and in western garb, set forth. Bill and Hi were more than
+ever his friends and champions, and the latter was heard exultantly to
+exclaim to Bruce:
+
+"He ain't much to look at as a parson, but he's a-ketchin' his second
+wind, and 'fore long you won't see him for dust."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE LAST OF THE PERMIT SUNDAYS
+
+
+The spring "round-ups" were all over and Bruce had nothing to do but
+to loaf about the Stopping Place, drinking old Latour's bad whisky and
+making himself a nuisance. In vain The Pilot tried to win him with loans
+of books and magazines and other kindly courtesies. He would be decent
+for a day and then would break forth in violent argumentation against
+religion and all who held to it. He sorely missed The Duke, who was away
+south on one of his periodic journeys, of which no one knew anything
+or cared to ask. The Duke's presence always steadied Bruce and took
+the rasp out of his manners. It was rather a relief to all that he was
+absent from the next fortnightly service, though Moore declared he was
+ashamed to confess this relief.
+
+"I can't touch him," he said to me, after the service; "he is far too
+clever, but," and his voice was full of pain, "I'd give something to
+help him."
+
+"If he doesn't quit his nonsense," I replied, "he'll soon be past
+helping. He doesn't go out on his range, his few cattle wander
+everywhere, his shack is in a beastly state, and he himself is going
+to pieces, miserable fool that he is." For it did seem a shame that a
+fellow should so throw himself away for nothing.
+
+"You are hard," said Moore, with his eyes upon me.
+
+"Hard? Isn't it true?" I answered, hotly. "Then, there's his mother at
+home."
+
+"Yes, but can he help it? Is it all his fault?" he replied, with his
+steady eyes still looking into me.
+
+"His fault? Whose fault, then?"
+
+"What of the Noble Seven? Have they anything to do with this?" His voice
+was quiet, but there was an arresting intensity in it.
+
+"Well," I said, rather weakly, "a man ought to look after himself."
+
+"Yes!--and his brother a little." Then, he added: "What have any of you
+done to help him? The Duke could have pulled him up a year ago if he had
+been willing to deny himself a little, and so with all of you. You all
+do just what pleases you regardless of any other, and so you help one
+another down."
+
+I could not find anything just then to say, though afterwards many
+things came to me; for, though his voice was quiet and low, his eyes
+were glowing and his face was alight with the fire that burned within,
+and I felt like one convicted of a crime. This was certainly a
+new doctrine for the West; an uncomfortable doctrine to practice,
+interfering seriously with personal liberty, but in The Pilot's way
+of viewing things difficult to escape. There would be no end to one's
+responsibility. I refused to think it out.
+
+Within a fortnight we were thinking it out with some intentness. The
+Noble Seven were to have a great "blow-out" at the Hill brothers' ranch.
+The Duke had got home from his southern trip a little more weary-looking
+and a little more cynical in his smile. The "blow-out" was to be held
+on Permit Sunday, the alternate to the Preaching Sunday, which was a
+concession to The Pilot, secured chiefly through the influence of Hi
+and his baseball nine. It was something to have created the situation
+involved in the distinction between Preaching and Permit Sundays. Hi put
+it rather graphically. "The devil takes his innin's one Sunday and The
+Pilot the next," adding emphatically, "He hain't done much scorin'
+yit, but my money's on The Pilot, you bet!" Bill was more cautious and
+preferred to wait developments. And developments were rapid.
+
+The Hill brothers' meet was unusually successful from a social point
+of view. Several Permits had been requisitioned, and whisky and beer
+abounded. Races all day and poker all night and drinks of various brews
+both day and night, with varying impromptu diversions--such as shooting
+the horns off wandering steers--were the social amenities indulged in by
+the noble company. On Monday evening I rode out to the ranch, urged by
+Moore, who was anxious that someone should look after Bruce.
+
+"I don't belong to them," he said, "you do. They won't resent your
+coming."
+
+Nor did they. They were sitting at tea, and welcomed me with a shout.
+
+"Hello, old domine!" yelled Bruce, "where's your preacher friend?"
+
+"Where you ought to be, if you could get there--at home," I replied,
+nettled at his insolent tone.
+
+"Strike one!" called out Hi, enthusiastically, not approving Bruce's
+attitude toward his friend, The Pilot.
+
+"Don't be so acute," said Bruce, after the laugh had passed, "but have a
+drink."
+
+He was flushed and very shaky and very noisy. The Duke, at the head
+of the table, looked a little harder than usual, but, though pale, was
+quite steady. The others were all more or less nerve-broken, and about
+the room were the signs of a wild night. A bench was upset, while broken
+bottles and crockery lay strewn about over a floor reeking with filth.
+The disgust on my face called forth an apology from the younger Hill,
+who was serving up ham and eggs as best he could to the men lounging
+about the table.
+
+"It's my housemaid's afternoon out," he explained gravely.
+
+"Gone for a walk in the park," added an other.
+
+"Hope MISTER Connor will pardon the absence," sneered Bruce, in his most
+offensive manner.
+
+"Don't mind him," said Hi, under his breath, "the blue devils are
+runnin' him down."
+
+This became more evident as the evening went on. From hilarity Bruce
+passed to sullen ferocity, with spasms of nervous terror. Hi's attempts
+to soothe him finally drove him mad, and he drew his revolver, declaring
+he could look after himself, in proof of which he began to shoot out the
+lights.
+
+The men scrambled into safe corners, all but The Duke, who stood quietly
+by watching Bruce shoot. Then saying:
+
+"Let me have a try, Bruce," he reached across and caught his hand.
+
+"No! you don't," said Bruce, struggling. "No man gets my gun."
+
+He tore madly at the gripping hand with both of his, but in vain,
+calling out with frightful oaths:
+
+"Let go! let go! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
+
+With a furious effort he hurled himself back from the table, dragging
+The Duke partly across. There was a flash and a report and Bruce
+collapsed, The Duke still gripping him. When they lifted him up he was
+found to have an ugly wound in his arm, the bullet having passed through
+the fleshy part. I bound it up as best I could and tried to persuade him
+to go to bed. But he would go home. Nothing could stop him. Finally The
+Duke agreed to go with him, and off they set, Bruce loudly protesting
+that he could get home alone and did not want anyone.
+
+It was a dismal break-up to the meet, and we all went home feeling
+rather sick, so that it gave me no pleasure to find Moore waiting in my
+shack for my report of Bruce. It was quite vain for me to make light of
+the accident to him. His eyes were wide open with anxious fear when I
+had done.
+
+"You needn't tell me not to be anxious," he said, "you are anxious
+yourself. I see it, I feel it."
+
+"Well, there's no use trying to keep things from you," I replied, "but
+I am only a little anxious. Don't you go beyond me and work yourself up
+into a fever over it."
+
+"No," he answered quietly, "but I wish his mother were nearer."
+
+"Oh, bosh, it isn't coming to that; but I wish he were in better shape.
+He is broken up badly without this hole in him."
+
+He would not leave till I had promised to take him up the next day,
+though I was doubtful enough of his reception. But next day The Duke
+came down, his black bronco, Jingo, wet with hard riding.
+
+"Better come up, Connor," he said, gravely, "and bring your bromides
+along. He has had a bad night and morning and fell asleep only before
+I came away. I expect he'll wake in delirium. It's the whisky more than
+the bullet. Snakes, you know."
+
+In ten minutes we three were on the trail, for Moore, though not
+invited, quietly announced his intention to go with us.
+
+"Oh, all right," said The Duke, indifferently, "he probably won't
+recognize you any way."
+
+We rode hard for half an hour till we came within sight of Bruce's
+shack, which was set back into a little poplar bluff.
+
+"Hold up!" said The Duke. "Was that a shot?" We stood listening. A
+rifle-shot rang out, and we rode hard. Again The Duke halted us, and
+there came from the shack the sound of singing. It was an old Scotch
+tune.
+
+"The twenty-third Psalm," said Moore, in a low voice.
+
+We rode into the bluff, tied up our horses and crept to the back of the
+shack. Looking through a crack between the logs, I saw a gruesome thing.
+Bruce was sitting up in bed with a Winchester rifle across his knees and
+a belt of cartridges hanging over the post. His bandages were torn off,
+the blood from his wound was smeared over his bare arms and his pale,
+ghastly face; his eyes were wild with mad terror, and he was shouting at
+the top of his voice the words:
+
+     "The Lord's my shepherd, I'll not want,
+        He makes me down to lie
+      In pastures green, He leadeth me
+        The quiet waters by."
+
+Now and then he would stop to say in an awesome whisper, "Come out here,
+you little devils!" and bang would go his rifle at the stovepipe, which
+was riddled with holes. Then once more in a loud voice he would hurry to
+begin the Psalm,
+
+     "The Lord's my Shepherd."
+
+Nothing that my memory brings to me makes me chill like that
+picture--the low log shack, now in cheerless disorder; the ghastly
+object upon the bed in the corner, with blood-smeared face and arms and
+mad terror in the eyes; the awful cursings and more awful psalm-singing,
+punctuated by the quick report of the deadly rifle.
+
+For some moments we stood gazing at one another; then The Duke said, in
+a low, fierce tone, more to himself than to us:
+
+"This is the last. There'll be no more of this cursed folly among the
+boys."
+
+And I thought it a wise thing in The Pilot that he answered not a word.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE PILOT'S GRIP
+
+
+The situation was one of extreme danger--a madman with a Winchester
+rifle. Something must be done and quickly. But what? It would be death
+to anyone appearing at the door.
+
+"I'll speak; you keep your eyes on him," said The Duke.
+
+"Hello, Bruce! What's the row?" shouted The Duke.
+
+Instantly the singing stopped. A look of cunning delight came over his
+face as, without a word, he got his rifle ready pointed at the door.
+
+"Come in!" he yelled, after waiting for some moments. "Come in! You're
+the biggest of all the devils. Come on, I'll send you down where you
+belong. Come, what's keeping you?"
+
+Over the rifle-barrel his eyes gleamed with frenzied delight. We
+consulted as to a plan.
+
+"I don't relish a bullet much," I said.
+
+"There are pleasanter things," responded The Duke, "and he is a fairly
+good shot."
+
+Meantime the singing had started again, and, looking through the chink,
+I saw that Bruce had got his eye on the stovepipe again. While I was
+looking The Pilot slipped away from us toward the door.
+
+"Come back!" said the Duke, "don't be a fool! Come back, he'll shoot you
+dead!"
+
+Moore paid no heed to him, but stood waiting at the door. In a few
+moments Bruce blazed away again at the stovepipe. Immediately the Pilot
+burst in, calling out eagerly:
+
+"Did you get him?"
+
+"No!" said Bruce, disappointedly, "he dodged like the devil, as of
+course he ought, you know."
+
+"I'll get him," said Moore. "Smoke him out," proceeding to open the
+stove door.
+
+"Stop!" screamed Bruce, "don't open that door! It's full, I tell you."
+Moore paused. "Besides," went on Bruce, "smoke won't touch 'em."
+
+"Oh, that's all right," said Moore, coolly and with admirable quickness,
+"wood smoke, you know--they can't stand that."
+
+This was apparently a new idea in demonology for Bruce, for he sank
+back, while Moore lighted the fire and put on the tea-kettle. He looked
+round for the tea-caddy.
+
+"Up there," said Bruce, forgetting for the moment his devils, and
+pointing to a quaint, old-fashioned tea-caddy upon the shelf.
+
+Moore took it down, turned it in his hands and looked at Bruce.
+
+"Old country, eh?"
+
+"My mother's," said Bruce, soberly.
+
+"I could have sworn it was my aunt's in Balleymena," said Moore. "My
+aunt lived in a little stone cottage with roses all over the front of
+it." And on he went into an enthusiastic description of his early home.
+His voice was full of music, soft and soothing, and poor Bruce sank back
+and listened, the glitter fading from his eyes.
+
+The Duke and I looked at each other.
+
+"Not too bad, eh?" said The Duke, after a few moments' silence.
+
+"Let's put up the horses," I suggested. "They won't want us for half an
+hour."
+
+When we came in, the room had been set in order, the tea-kettle was
+singing, the bedclothes straightened out, and Moore had just finished
+washing the blood stains from Bruce's arms and neck.
+
+"Just in time," he said. "I didn't like to tackle these," pointing to
+the bandages.
+
+All night long Moore soothed and tended the sick man, now singing softly
+to him, and again beguiling him with tales that meant nothing, but that
+had a strange power to quiet the nervous restlessness, due partly to the
+pain of the wounded arm and partly to the nerve-wrecking from his months
+of dissipation. The Duke seemed uncomfortable enough. He spoke to Bruce
+once or twice, but the only answer was a groan or curse with an increase
+of restlessness.
+
+"He'll have a close squeak," said The Duke. The carelessness of the tone
+was a little overdone, but The Pilot was stirred up by it.
+
+"He has not been fortunate in his friends," he said, looking straight
+into his eyes.
+
+"A man ought to know himself when the pace is too swift," said The Duke,
+a little more quickly than was his wont.
+
+"You might have done anything with him. Why didn't you help him?"
+Moore's tones were stern and very steady, and he never moved his eyes
+from the other man's face, but the only reply he got was a shrug of the
+shoulders.
+
+When the gray of the morning was coming in at the window The Duke rose
+up, gave himself, a little shake, and said:
+
+"I am not of any service here. I shall come back in the evening."
+
+He went and stood for a few moments looking down upon the hot, fevered
+face; then, turning to me, he asked:
+
+"What do you think?"
+
+"Can't say! The bromide is holding him down just now. His blood is bad
+for that wound."
+
+"Can I get anything?" I knew him well enough to recognize the anxiety
+under his indifferent manner.
+
+"The Fort doctor ought to be got."
+
+He nodded and went out.
+
+"Have breakfast?" called out Moore from the door.
+
+"I shall get some at the Fort, thanks. They won't take any hurt from me
+there," he said, smiling his cynical smile.
+
+Moore opened his eyes in surprise.
+
+"What's that for?" he asked me.
+
+"Well, he is rather cut up, and you rather rubbed it into him, you
+know," I said, for I thought Moore a little hard.
+
+"Did I say anything untrue?"
+
+"Well, not untrue, perhaps; but truth is like medicine--not always good
+to take." At which Moore was silent till his patient needed him again.
+
+It was a weary day. The intense pain from the wound, and the high fever
+from the poison in his blood kept the poor fellow in delirium till
+evening, when The Duke rode up with the Fort doctor. Jingo appeared
+as nearly played out as a horse of his spirit ever allowed himself to
+become.
+
+"Seventy miles," said The Duke, swinging himself off the saddle. "The
+doctor was ten miles out. How is he?"
+
+I shook my head, and he led away his horse to give him a rub and a feed.
+
+Meantime the doctor, who was of the army and had seen service, was
+examining his patient. He grew more and more puzzled as he noted the
+various symptoms. Finally he broke out:
+
+"What have you been doing to him? Why is he in this condition? This
+fleabite doesn't account for all," pointing to the wound.
+
+We stood like children reproved. Then The Duke said, hesitatingly:
+
+"I fear, doctor, the life has been a little too hard for him. He had a
+severe nervous attack--seeing things, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know," stormed the old doctor. "I know you well enough, with
+your head of cast-iron and no nerves to speak of. I know the crowd and
+how you lead them. Infernal fools! You'll get your turn some day. I've
+warned you before."
+
+The Duke was standing up before the doctor during this storm, smiling
+slightly. All at once the smile faded out and he pointed to the bed.
+Bruce was sitting up quiet and steady. He stretched out his hand to The
+Duke.
+
+"Don't mind the old fool," he said, holding The Duke's hand and
+looking up at him as fondly as if he were a girl. "It's my own
+funeral--funeral?" he paused--"Perhaps it may be--who knows?--feel queer
+enough--but remember, Duke--it's my own fault--don't listen to those
+bally fools," looking towards Moore and the doctor. "My own fault"--his
+voice died down--"my own fault."
+
+The Duke bent over him and laid him back on the pillow, saying, "Thanks,
+old chap, you're good stuff. I'll not forget. Just keep quiet and you'll
+be all right." He passed his cool, firm hand over the hot brow of the
+man looking up at him with love in his eyes, and in a few moments Bruce
+fell asleep. Then The Duke lifted himself up, and facing the doctor,
+said in his coolest tone:
+
+"Your words are more true than opportune, doctor. Your patient will need
+all your attention. As for my morals, Mr. Moore kindly entrusts himself
+with the care of them." This with a bow toward The Pilot.
+
+"I wish him joy of his charge," snorted the doctor, turning again to the
+bed, where Bruce had already passed into delirium.
+
+The memory of that vigil was like a horrible nightmare for months.
+Moore lay on the floor and slept. The Duke rode off somewhither. The
+old doctor and I kept watch. All night poor Bruce raved in the wildest
+delirium, singing, now psalms, now songs, swearing at the cattle or his
+poker partners, and now and then, in quieter moments, he was back in his
+old home, a boy, with a boy's friends and sports. Nothing could check
+the fever. It baffled the doctor, who often, during the night, declared
+that there was "no sense in a wound like that working up such a fever,"
+adding curses upon the folly of The Duke and his Company.
+
+"You don't think he will not get better, doctor?" I asked, in answer to
+one of his outbreaks.
+
+"He ought to get over this," he answered, impatiently, "but I believe,"
+he added, deliberately, "he'll have to go."
+
+Everything stood still for a moment. It seemed impossible. Two days ago
+full of life, now on the way out. There crowded in upon me thoughts of
+his home; his mother, whose letters he used to show me full of anxious
+love; his wild life here, with all its generous impulses, its mistakes,
+its folly.
+
+"How long will he last?" I asked, and my lips were dry and numb.
+
+"Perhaps twenty-four hours, perhaps longer. He can't throw off the
+poison."
+
+The old doctor proved a true prophet. After another day of agonized
+delirium he sank into a stupor which lasted through the night.
+
+Then the change came. As the light began to grow at the eastern rim of
+the prairie and up the far mountains in the west, Bruce opened his eyes
+and looked about upon us. The doctor had gone; The Duke had not come
+back; Moore and I were alone. He gazed at us steadily for some moments;
+read our faces; a look of wonder came into his eyes.
+
+"Is it coming?" he asked in a faint, awed voice. "Do you really think I
+must go?"
+
+The eager appeal in his voice and the wistful longing in the wide-open,
+startled eyes were too much for Moore. He backed behind me and I could
+hear him weeping like a baby. Bruce heard him, too.
+
+"Is that The Pilot?" he asked. Instantly Moore pulled himself up, wiped
+his eyes and came round to the other side of the bed and looked down,
+smiling.
+
+"Do YOU say I am dying?" The voice was strained in its earnestness. I
+felt a thrill of admiration go through me as the Pilot answered in a
+sweet, clear voice: "They say so, Bruce. But you are not afraid?"
+
+Bruce kept his eyes on his face and answered with grave hesitation:
+
+"No--not--afraid--but I'd like to live a little longer. I've made such
+a mess of it, I'd like to try again." Then he paused, and his
+lips quivered a little. "There's my mother, you know," he added,
+apologetically, "and Jim." Jim was his younger brother and sworn chum.
+
+"Yes, I know, Bruce, but it won't be very long for them, too, and it's a
+good place."
+
+"Yes, I believe it all--always did--talked rot--you'll forgive me that?"
+
+"Don't; don't," said Moore quickly, with sharp pain in his voice, and
+Bruce smiled a little and closed his eyes, saying: "I'm tired." But he
+immediately opened them again and looked up.
+
+"What is it?" asked Moore, smiling down into his eyes.
+
+"The Duke," the poor lips whispered.
+
+"He is coming," said Moore, confidently, though how he knew I could not
+tell. But even as he spoke, looking out of the window, I saw Jingo come
+swinging round the bluff. Bruce heard the beat of his hoofs, smiled,
+opened his eyes and waited. The leap of joy in his eyes as The Duke came
+in, clean, cool and fresh as the morning, went to my heart.
+
+Neither man said a word, but Bruce took hold of The Duke's hand in both
+of his. He was fast growing weaker. I gave him brandy, and he recovered
+a little strength.
+
+"I am dying, Duke," he said, quietly. "Promise you won't blame
+yourself."
+
+"I can't, old man," said The Duke, with a shudder. "Would to heaven I
+could."
+
+"You were too strong for me, and you didn't think, did you?" and the
+weak voice had a caress in it.
+
+"No, no! God knows," said The Duke, hurriedly.
+
+There was a long silence, and again Bruce opened his eyes and whispered:
+
+"The Pilot."
+
+Moore came to him.
+
+"Read 'The Prodigal,'" he said faintly, and in Moore's clear, sweet
+voice the music of that matchless story fell upon our ears.
+
+Again Bruce's eyes summoned me. I bent over him.
+
+"My letter," he said, faintly, "in my coat--"
+
+I brought to him the last letter from his mother. He held the envelope
+before his eyes, then handed it to me, whispering:
+
+"Read."
+
+I opened the letter and looked at the words, "My darling Davie." My
+tongue stuck and not a sound could I make. Moore put out his hand and
+took it from me. The Duke rose to go out, calling me with his eyes, but
+Bruce motioned him to stay, and he sat down and bowed his head, while
+Moore read the letter.
+
+His tones were clear and steady till he came to the last words, when his
+voice broke and ended in a sob:
+
+"And oh, Davie, laddie, if ever your heart turns home again, remember
+the door is aye open, and it's joy you'll bring with you to us all."
+
+Bruce lay quite still, and, from his closed eyes, big tears ran down his
+cheeks. It was his last farewell to her whose love had been to him the
+anchor to all things pure here and to heaven beyond.
+
+He took the letter from Moore's hand, put it with difficulty to his
+lips, and then, touching the open Bible, he said, between his breaths:
+
+"It's--very like--there's really--no fear, is there?"
+
+"No, no!" said Moore, with cheerful, confident voice, though his, tears
+were flowing. "No fear of your welcome."
+
+His eyes met mine. I bent over him. "Tell her--" and his voice faded
+away.
+
+"What shall I tell her?" I asked, trying to recall him. But the message
+was never given. He moved one hand slowly toward The Duke till it
+touched his head. The Duke lifted his face and looked down at him, and
+then he did a beautiful thing for which I forgave him much. He stooped
+over and kissed the lips grown so white, and then the brow. The light
+came back into the eyes of the dying man, he smiled once more, and
+smilingly faced toward the Great Beyond. And the morning air, fresh from
+the sun-tipped mountains and sweet with the scent of the June roses,
+came blowing soft and cool through the open window upon the dead,
+smiling face. And it seemed fitting so. It came from the land of the
+Morning.
+
+Again The Duke did a beautiful thing; for, reaching across his dead
+friend, he offered his hand to The Pilot. "Mr. Moore," he said,
+with fine courtesy, "you are a brave man and a good man; I ask your
+forgiveness for much rudeness."
+
+But Moore only shook his head while he took the outstretched hand, and
+said, brokenly:
+
+"Don't! I can't stand it."
+
+"The Company of the Noble Seven will meet no more," said The Duke, with
+a faint smile.
+
+They did meet, however; but when they did, The Pilot was in the chair,
+and it was not for poker.
+
+The Pilot had "got his grip," as Bill said.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+GWEN
+
+
+It was not many days after my arrival in the Foothill country that I
+began to hear of Gwen. They all had stories of her. The details were not
+many, but the impression was vivid. She lived remote from that centre of
+civilization known as Swan Creek in the postal guide, but locally as
+Old Latour's, far up among the hills near the Devil's Lake, and from her
+father's ranch she never ventured. But some of the men had had glimpses
+of her and had come to definite opinions regarding her.
+
+"What is she like?" I asked Bill one day, trying to pin him down to
+something like a descriptive account of her.
+
+"Like! She's a terrer," he said, with slow emphasis, "a holy terrer."
+
+"But what is she like? What does she look like?" I asked impatiently.
+
+"Look like?" He considered a moment, looked slowly round as if searching
+for a simile, then answered: "I dunno."
+
+"Don't know? What do you mean? Haven't you seen her?"
+
+"Yeh! But she ain't like nothin'."
+
+Bill was quite decided upon this point.
+
+I tried again.
+
+"Well, what sort of hair has she got? She's got hair, I suppose?"
+
+"Hayer! Well, a few!" said Bill, with some choice combinations of
+profanity in repudiation of my suggestion. "Yards of it! Red!"
+
+"Git out!" contradicted Hi. "Red! Tain't no more red than mine!"
+
+Bill regarded Hi's hair critically.
+
+"What color do you put onto your old brush?" he asked cautiously.
+
+"'Tain't no difference. 'Tain't red, anyhow."
+
+"Red! Well, not quite exactly," and Bill went off into a low, long,
+choking chuckle, ejaculating now and then, "Red! Jee-mi-ny Ann! Red!"
+
+"No, Hi," he went on, recovering himself with the same abruptness as he
+used with his bronco, and looking at his friend with a face even more
+than usually solemn, "your hayer ain't red, Hi; don't let any of your
+relatives persuade you to that. 'Tain't red!" and he threatened to go
+off again, but pulled himself up with dangerous suddenness. "It may be
+blue, cerulyum blue or even purple, but red--!" He paused violently,
+looking at his friend as if he found him a new and interesting object
+of study upon which he could not trust himself to speak. Nor could he be
+induced to proceed with the description he had begun.
+
+But Hi, paying no attention to Bill's oration, took up the subject with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"She kin ride--she's a reg'lar buster to ride, ain't she, Bill?" Bill
+nodded. "She kin bunch cattle an' cut out an' yank a steer up to any
+cowboy on the range."
+
+"Why, how big is she?"
+
+"Big? Why, she's just a kid! 'Tain't the bigness of her, it's the nerve.
+She's got the coldest kind of nerve you ever seen. Hain't she, Bill?"
+And again Bill nodded.
+
+"'Member the day she dropped that steer, Bill?" went on Hi.
+
+"What was that?" I asked, eager for a yarn.
+
+"Oh, nuthin'," said Bill.
+
+"Nuthin'!" retorted Hi. "Pretty big nuthin'!"
+
+"What was it?" I urged.
+
+"Oh, Bill here did some funny work at old Meredith's round-up, but he
+don't speak of it. He's shy, you see," and Hi grinned.
+
+"Well, there ain't no occasion for your proceedin' onto that tact," said
+Bill disgustedly, and Hi loyally refrained, so I have never yet got the
+rights of the story. But from what I did hear I gathered that Bill, at
+the risk of his life, had pulled The Duke from under the hoofs of a mad
+steer, and that little Gwen had, in the coolest possible manner, "sailed
+in on her bronco" and, by putting two bullets into the steer's head, had
+saved them both from great danger, perhaps from death, for the rest of
+the cattle were crowding near. Of course Bill could never be persuaded
+to speak of the incident. A true western man will never hesitate to tell
+you what he can do, but of what he has done he does not readily speak.
+
+The only other item that Hi contributed to the sketch of Gwen was that
+her temper could blaze if the occasion demanded.
+
+"'Member young Hill, Bill?"
+
+Bill "'membered."
+
+"Didn't she cut into him sudden? Sarved him right, too."
+
+"What did she do?"
+
+"Cut him across the face with her quirt in good style."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Knockin' about her Indian Joe."
+
+Joe was, as I came to learn, Ponka's son and Gwen's most devoted slave.
+
+"Oh, she ain't no refrigerator."
+
+"Yes," assented Bill. "She's a leetle swift." Then, as if fearing he
+had been apologizing for her, he added, with the air of one settling the
+question: "But she's good stock! She suits me!"
+
+The Duke helped me to another side of her character.
+
+"She is a remarkable child," he said, one day. "Wild and shy as
+a coyote, but fearless, quite; and with a heart full of passions.
+Meredith, the Old Timer, you know, has kept her up there among the
+hills. She sees no one but himself and Ponka's Blackfeet relations, who
+treat her like a goddess and help to spoil her utterly. She knows their
+lingo and their ways--goes off with them for a week at a time."
+
+"What! With the Blackfeet?"
+
+"Ponka and Joe, of course, go along; but even without them she is as
+safe as if surrounded by the Coldstream Guards, but she has given them
+up for some time now."
+
+"And at home?" I asked. "Has she any education? Can she read or write?"
+
+"Not she. She can make her own dresses, moccasins and leggings. She can
+cook and wash--that is, when she feels in the mood. And she knows
+all about the birds and beasts and flowers and that sort of thing,
+but--education! Why, she is hardly civilized!"
+
+"What a shame!" I said. "How old is she?"
+
+"Oh, a mere child; fourteen or fifteen, I imagine; but a woman in many
+things."
+
+"And what does her father say to all this? Can he control her?"
+
+"Control!" said The Duke, in utter astonishment. "Why, bless your soul,
+nothing in heaven or earth could control HER. Wait till you see her
+stand with her proud little head thrown back, giving orders to Joe, and
+you will never again connect the idea of control with Gwen. She might
+be a princess for the pride of her. I've seen some, too, in my day, but
+none to touch her for sheer, imperial pride, little Lucifer that she
+is."
+
+"And how does her father stand her nonsense?" I asked, for I confess I
+was not much taken with the picture The Duke had drawn.
+
+"Her father simply follows behind her and adores, as do all things that
+come near her, down, or up, perhaps, to her two dogs--Wolf and Loo--for
+either of which she would readily die if need be. Still," he added,
+after a pause, "it IS a shame, as you say. She ought to know something
+of the refinements of civilization, to which, after all, she belongs,
+and from which none of us can hope to escape." The Duke was silent for
+a few moments, and then added, with some hesitation: "Then, too, she is
+quite a pagan; never saw a prayer-book, you know."
+
+And so it came about, chiefly through The Duke's influence, I imagine,
+that I was engaged by the Old Timer to go up to his ranch every week and
+teach his daughter something of the elementaries of a lady's education.
+
+My introduction was ominous of the many things I was to suffer of that
+same young maiden before I had finished my course with her. The Old
+Timer had given careful directions as to the trail that would lead me to
+the canyon where he was to meet me. Up the Swan went the trail, winding
+ever downward into deeper and narrower coulees and up to higher open
+sunlit slopes, till suddenly it settled into a valley which began with
+great width and narrowed to a canyon whose rocky sides were dressed out
+with shrubs and trailing vines and wet with trickling rivulets from the
+numerous springs that oozed and gushed from the black, glistening rocks.
+This canyon was an eerie place of which ghostly tales were told from
+the old Blackfeet times. And to this day no Blackfoot will dare to pass
+through this black-walled, oozy, glistening canyon after the moon has
+passed the western lip. But in the warm light of broad day the canyon
+was a good enough place; cool and sweet, and I lingered through, waiting
+for the Old Timer, who failed to appear till the shadows began to darken
+its western black sides.
+
+Out of the mouth of the canyon the trail climbed to a wide stretch of
+prairie that swept up over soft hills to the left and down to the bright
+gleaming waters of the Devil's Lake on the right. In the sunlight the
+lake lay like a gem radiant with many colors, the far side black in the
+shadow of the crowding pines, then in the middle deep, blue and purple,
+and nearer, many shades of emerald that ran quite to the white, sandy
+beach. Right in front stood the ranch buildings, upon a slight rising
+ground and surrounded by a sturdy palisade of upright pointed poles.
+This was the castle of the princess. I rode up to the open gate, then
+turned and stood to look down upon the marvellous lake shining and
+shimmering with its many radiant colors. Suddenly there was an awful
+roar, my pony shot round upon his hind legs after his beastly cayuse
+manner, deposited me sitting upon the ground and fled down the trail,
+pursued by two huge dogs that brushed past me as I fell. I was aroused
+from my amazement by a peal of laughter, shrill but full of music.
+Turning, I saw my pupil, as I guessed, standing at the head of a most
+beautiful pinto (spotted) pony with a heavy cattle quirt in her hand. I
+scrambled to my feet and said, somewhat angrily, I fear:
+
+"What are you laughing at? Why don't you call back your dogs? They will
+chase my pony beyond all reach."
+
+She lifted her little head, shook back her masses of brown-red hair,
+looked at me as if I were quite beneath contempt and said: "No, they
+will kill him."
+
+"Then," said I, for I was very angry, "I will kill them," pulling at the
+revolver in my belt.
+
+"Then," she said, and for the first time I noticed her eyes blue-black,
+with gray rims, "I will kill you," and she whipped out an ugly-looking
+revolver. From her face I had no doubt that she would not hesitate to do
+as she had said. I changed my tactics, for I was anxious about my pony,
+and said, with my best smile:
+
+"Can't you call them back? Won't they obey you?"
+
+Her face changed in a moment.
+
+"Is it your pony? Do you love him very much?"
+
+"Dearly!" I said, persuading myself of a sudden affection for the cranky
+little brute.
+
+She sprang upon her pinto and set off down the trail. The pony was now
+coursing up and down the slopes, doubling like a hare, instinctively
+avoiding the canyon where he would be cornered. He was mad with terror
+at the huge brutes that were silently but with awful and sure swiftness
+running him down.
+
+The girl on the pinto whistled shrilly, and called to her dogs: "Down,
+Wolf! Back, Loo!" but, running low, with long, stretched bodies, they
+heeded not, but sped on, ever gaining upon the pony that now circled
+toward the pinto. As they drew near in their circling, the girl urged
+her pinto to meet them, loosening her lariat as she went. As the pony
+neared the pinto he slackened his speed; immediately the nearer dog
+gathered herself in two short jumps and sprang for the pony's throat.
+But, even as she sprang, the lariat whirled round the girl's head
+and fell swift and sure about the dog's neck, and next moment she lay
+choking upon the prairie. Her mate paused, looked back, and gave up the
+chase. But dire vengeance overtook them, for, like one possessed, the
+girl fell upon them with her quirt and beat them one after the other
+till, in pity for the brutes, I interposed.
+
+"They shall do as I say or I shall kill them! I shall kill them!" she
+cried, raging and stamping.
+
+"Better shoot them," I suggested, pulling out my pistol.
+
+Immediately she flung herself upon the one that moaned and whined at her
+feet, crying:
+
+"If you dare! If you dare!" Then she burst into passionate sobbing.
+"You bad Loo! You bad, dear old Loo! But you WERE bad--you KNOW you
+were bad!" and so she went on with her arms about Loo's neck till Loo,
+whining and quivering with love and delight, threatened to go quite
+mad, and Wolf, standing majestically near, broke into short howls of
+impatience for his turn of caressing. They made a strange group, those
+three wild things, equally fierce and passionate in hate and in love.
+
+Suddenly the girl remembered me, and standing up she said, half ashamed:
+
+"They always obey ME. They are MINE, but they kill any strange thing
+that comes in through the gate. They are allowed to."
+
+"It is a pleasant whim."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I mean, isn't that dangerous to strangers?"
+
+"Oh, no one ever comes alone, except The Duke. And they keep off the
+wolves."
+
+"The Duke comes, does he?"
+
+"Yes!" and her eyes lit up. "He is my friend. He calls me his
+'princess,' and he teaches me to talk and tells me stories--oh,
+wonderful stories!"
+
+I looked in wonder at her face, so gentle, so girlish, and tried to
+think back to the picture of the girl who a few moments before had so
+coolly threatened to shoot me and had so furiously beaten her dogs.
+
+I kept her talking of The Duke as we walked back to the gate, watching
+her face the while. It was not beautiful; it was too thin, and the mouth
+was too large. But the teeth were good, and the eyes, blue-black with
+gray rims, looked straight at you; true eyes and brave, whether in love
+or in war. Her hair was her glory. Red it was, in spite of Hi's denial,
+but of such marvellous, indescribable shade that in certain lights, as
+she rode over the prairie, it streamed behind her like a purple banner.
+A most confusing and bewildering color, but quite in keeping with the
+nature of the owner.
+
+She gave her pinto to Joe and, standing at the door, welcomed me with
+a dignity and graciousness that made me think that The Duke was not far
+wrong when he named her "Princess."
+
+The door opened upon the main or living room. It was a long, apartment,
+with low ceiling and walls of hewn logs chinked and plastered and all
+beautifully whitewashed and clean. The tables, chairs and benches were
+all home-made. On the floor were magnificent skins of wolf, bear, musk
+ox and mountain goat. The walls were decorated with heads and horns of
+deer and mountain sheep, eagles' wings and a beautiful breast of a loon,
+which Gwen had shot and of which she was very proud. At one end of the
+room a huge stone fireplace stood radiant in its summer decorations of
+ferns and grasses and wild-flowers. At the other end a door opened
+into another room, smaller and richly furnished with relics of former
+grandeur.
+
+Everything was clean and well kept. Every nook, shelf and corner was
+decked with flowers and ferns from the canyon.
+
+A strange house it was, full of curious contrasts, but it fitted this
+quaint child that welcomed me with such gracious courtesy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+GWEN'S FIRST PRAYERS
+
+
+It was with hesitation, almost with fear, that I began with Gwen; but
+even had I been able to foresee the endless series of exasperations
+through which she was destined to conduct me, still would I have
+undertaken my task. For the child, with all her wilfulness, her tempers
+and her pride, made me, as she did all others, her willing slave.
+
+Her lessons went on, brilliantly or not at all, according to her sweet
+will. She learned to read with extraordinary rapidity, for she was eager
+to know more of that great world of which The Duke had told her such
+thrilling tales. Writing she abhorred. She had no one to write to. Why
+should she cramp her fingers over these crooked little marks? But she
+mastered with hardly a struggle the mysteries of figures, for she would
+have to sell her cattle, and "dad doesn't know when they are cheating."
+Her ideas of education were purely utilitarian, and what did not appear
+immediately useful she refused to trifle with. And so all through the
+following long winter she vexed my righteous soul with her wilfulness
+and pride. An appeal to her father was idle. She would wind her long,
+thin arms about his neck and let her waving red hair float over him
+until the old man was quite helpless to exert authority. The Duke could
+do most with her. To please him she would struggle with her crooked
+letters for an hour at a time, but even his influence and authority had
+its limits.
+
+"Must I?" she said one day, in answer to a demand of his for more
+faithful study; "must I?" And throwing up her proud little head, and
+shaking back with a trick she had her streaming red hair, she looked
+straight at him from her blue-gray eyes and asked the monosyllabic
+question, "Why?" And The Duke looked back at her with his slight smile
+for a few moments and then said in cold, even tones:
+
+"I really don't know why," and turned his back on her. Immediately she
+sprang at him, shook him by the arm, and, quivering with passion, cried:
+
+"You are not to speak to me like that, and you are not to turn your back
+that way!"
+
+"What a little princess it is," he said admiringly, "and what a time she
+will give herself some day!" Then he added, smiling sadly: "Was I rude,
+Gwen? Then I am sorry." Her rage was gone, and she looked as if she
+could have held him by the feet. As it was, too proud to show her
+feelings, she just looked at him with softening eyes, and then sat down
+to the work she had refused. This was after the advent of The Pilot at
+Swan Creek, and, as The Duke rode home with me that night, after long
+musing he said with hesitation: "She ought to have some religion, poor
+child; she will grow up a perfect little devil. The Pilot might be of
+service if you could bring him up. Women need that sort of thing; it
+refines, you know."
+
+"Would she have him?" I asked.
+
+"Question," he replied, doubtfully. "You might suggest it."
+
+Which I did, introducing somewhat clumsily, I fear, The Duke's name.
+
+"The Duke says he is to make me good!" she cried. "I won't have him, I
+hate him and you too!" And for that day she disdained all lessons, and
+when The Duke next appeared she greeted him with the exclamation, "I
+won't have your old Pilot, and I don't want to be good, and--and--you
+think he's no good yourself," at which the Duke opened his eyes.
+
+"How do you know? I never said so!"
+
+"You laughed at him to dad one day."
+
+"Did I?" said The Duke, gravely. "Then I hasten to assure, you that I
+have changed my mind. He is a good, brave man."
+
+"He falls off his horse," she said, with contempt.
+
+"I rather think he sticks on now," replied The Duke, repressing a smile.
+
+"Besides," she went on, "he's just a kid; Bill said so."
+
+"Well, he might be more ancient," acknowledged The Duke, "but in that he
+is steadily improving."
+
+"Anyway," with an air of finality, "he is not to come here."
+
+But he did come, and under her own escort, one threatening August
+evening.
+
+"I found him in the creek," she announced, with defiant shamefacedness,
+marching in The Pilot half drowned.
+
+"I think I could have crossed," he said, apologetically, "for Louis was
+getting on his feet again."
+
+"No, you wouldn't," she protested. "You would have been down into the
+canyon by now, and you ought to be thankful."
+
+"So I am," he hastened to say, "very! But," he added, unwilling to give
+up his contention, "I have crossed the Swan before."
+
+"Not when it was in flood."
+
+"Yes, when it was in flood, higher than now."
+
+"Not where the banks are rocky."
+
+"No-o!" he hesitated.
+
+"There, then, you WOULD have been drowned but for my lariat!" she cried,
+triumphantly.
+
+To this he doubtfully assented.
+
+They were much alike, in high temper, in enthusiasm, in vivid
+imagination, and in sensitive feeling. When the Old Timer came in Gwen
+triumphantly introduced The Pilot as having been rescued from a watery
+grave by her lariat, and again they fought out the possibilities
+of drowning and of escape till Gwen almost lost her temper, and was
+appeased only by the most profuse expressions of gratitude on the part
+of The Pilot for her timely assistance. The Old Timer was perplexed. He
+was afraid to offend Gwen and yet unwilling to be cordial to her guest.
+The Pilot was quick to feel this, and, soon after tea, rose to go.
+Gwen's disappointment showed in her face.
+
+"Ask him to stay, dad," she said, in a whisper. But the half-hearted
+invitation acted like a spur, and The Pilot was determined to set off.
+
+"There's a bad storm coming," she said; "and besides," she added,
+triumphantly "you can't cross the Swan."
+
+This settled it, and the most earnest prayers of the Old Timer could not
+have held him back.
+
+We all went down to see him cross, Gwen leading her pinto. The Swan was
+far over its banks, and in the middle running swift and strong.
+Louis snorted, refused and finally plunged. Bravely he swam, till the
+swift-running water struck him, and over he went on his side, throwing
+his rider into the water. But The Pilot kept his head, and, holding
+by the stirrups, paddled along by Louis' side. When they were half-way
+across Louis saw that he had no chance of making the landing; so, like
+a sensible horse, he turned and made for the shore. Here, too, the banks
+were high, and the pony began to grow discouraged.
+
+"Let him float down further!" shrieked Gwen, in anxious excitement; and,
+urging her pinto down the bank, she coaxed the struggling pony down the
+stream till opposite a shelf of rock level with the high water. Then she
+threw her lariat, and, catching Louis about the neck and the horn of
+his saddle, she held taut, till, half drowned, he scrambled up the bank,
+dragging The Pilot with him.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad!" she said, almost tearfully. "You see, you couldn't
+get across."
+
+The Pilot staggered to his feet, took a step toward her, gasped out:
+
+"I can!" and pitched headlong. With a little cry she flew to him, and
+turned him over on his back. In a few moments he revived, sat up, and
+looked about stupidly.
+
+"Where's Louis?" he said, with his face toward the swollen stream.
+
+"Safe enough," she answered; "but you must come in, the rain is just
+going to pour."
+
+But The Pilot seemed possessed.
+
+"No, I'm going across," he said, rising.
+
+Gwen was greatly distressed.
+
+"But your poor horse," she said, cleverly changing her ground; "he is
+quite tired out."
+
+The Old Timer now joined earnestly in urging him to stay till the storm
+was past. So, with a final look at the stream, The Pilot turned toward
+the house.
+
+Of course I knew what would happen. Before the evening was over he had
+captured the household. The moment he appeared with dry things on he ran
+to the organ, that had stood for ten years closed and silent, opened
+it and began to play. As he played and sang song after song, the Old
+Timer's eyes began to glisten under his shaggy brows. But when he
+dropped into the exquisite Irish melody, "Oft in the Stilly Night," the
+old man drew a hard breath and groaned out to me:
+
+"It was her mother's song," and from that time The Pilot had him fast.
+It was easy to pass to the old hymn, "Nearer, My God, to Thee," and then
+The Pilot said simply, "May we have prayers?" He looked at Gwen, but she
+gazed blankly at him and then at her father.
+
+"What does he say, dad?"
+
+It was pitiful to see the old man's face grow slowly red under the deep
+tan, as he said:
+
+"You may, sir. There's been none here for many years, and the worse for
+us." He rose slowly, went into the inner room and returned with a Bible.
+
+"It's her mother's," he said, in a voice deep with emotion. "I put it
+in her trunk the day I laid her out yonder under the pines." The Pilot,
+without looking at him, rose and reverently took the book in both his
+hands and said gently:
+
+"It was a sad day for you, but for her--" He paused. "You did not grudge
+it to her?"
+
+"Not now, but then, yes! I wanted her, we needed her." The Old Timer's
+tears were flowing.
+
+The Pilot put his hand caressingly upon the old man's shoulder as if he
+had been his father, and said in his clear, sweet voice, "Some day you
+will go to her."
+
+Upon this scene poor Gwen gazed with eyes wide open with amazement and
+a kind of fear. She had never seen her father weep since the awful day
+that she could never forget, when he had knelt in dumb agony beside the
+bed on which her mother lay white and still; nor would he heed her till,
+climbing up, she tried to make her mother waken and hear her cries. Then
+he had caught her up in his arms, pressing her with tears and great sobs
+to his heart. To-night she seemed to feel that something was wrong. She
+went and stood by her father, and, stroking his gray hair kindly, she
+said:
+
+"What is he saying, daddy? Is he making you cry?" She looked at The
+Pilot defiantly.
+
+"No, no, child," said the old man, hastily, "sit here and listen."
+
+And while the storm raved outside we three sat listening to that ancient
+story of love ineffable. And, as the words fell like sweet music upon
+our ears, the old man sat with eyes that looked far away, while the
+child listened with devouring eagerness.
+
+"Is it a fairy tale, daddy?" she asked, as The Pilot paused. "It isn't
+true, is it?" and her voice had a pleading note hard for the old man to
+bear.
+
+"Yes, yes, my child," said he, brokenly. "God forgive me!"
+
+"Of course it's true," said The Pilot, quickly. "I'll read it all to you
+to-morrow. It's a beautiful story!"
+
+"No," she said, imperiously, "to-night. Read it now! Go on!" she said,
+stamping her foot, "don't you hear me?"
+
+The Pilot gazed in surprise at her, and then turning to the old man,
+said:
+
+"Shall I?"
+
+The Old Timer simply nodded and the reading went on. Those were not my
+best days, and the faith of my childhood was not as it had been; but, as
+The Pilot carried us through those matchless scenes of self-forgetting
+love and service the rapt wonder in the child's face as she listened,
+the appeal in her voice as, now to her father, and now to me, she
+cried: "Is THAT true, too? Is it ALL true?" made it impossible for me
+to hesitate in my answer. And I was glad to find it easy to give my firm
+adherence to the truth of all that tale of wonder. And, as more and more
+it grew upon The Pilot that the story he was reading, so old to him and
+to all he had ever met, was new to one in that listening group, his face
+began to glow and his eyes to blaze, and he saw and showed me things
+that night I had never seen before, nor have I seen them since. The
+great figure of the Gospels lived, moved before our eyes. We saw Him
+bend to touch the blind, we heard Him speak His marvellous teaching, we
+felt the throbbing excitement of the crowds that pressed against Him.
+
+Suddenly The Pilot stopped, turned over the leaves and began again: "And
+He led them out as far as to Bethany. And He lifted up His hands and
+blessed them. And it came to pass as He blessed them He was parted from
+them and a cloud received Him out of their sight." There was silence for
+some minutes, then Gwen said:
+
+"Where did He go?"
+
+"Up into Heaven," answered The Pilot, simply.
+
+"That's where mother is," she said to her father, who nodded in reply.
+
+"Does He know?" she asked. The old man looked distressed.
+
+"Of course He does," said The Pilot, "and she sees Him all the time."
+
+"Oh, daddy!" she cried, "isn't that good?"
+
+But the old man only hid his face in his hands and groaned.
+
+"Yes," went on The Pilot, "and He sees us, too, and hears us speak, and
+knows our thoughts."
+
+Again the look of wonder and fear came into her eyes, but she said no
+word. The experiences of the evening had made the world new to her. It
+could never be the same to her again. It gave me a queer feeling to see
+her, when we three kneeled to pray, stand helplessly looking on, not
+knowing what to do, then sink beside her father, and, winding her arms
+about his neck, cling to him as the words of prayer were spoken into the
+ear of Him whom no man can see, but who we believe is near to all that
+call upon Him.
+
+Those were Gwen's first "prayers," and in them Gwen's part was small,
+for fear and wonder filled her heart; but the day was to come, and all
+too soon, when she should have to pour out her soul with strong crying
+and tears. That day came and passed, but the story of it is not to be
+told here.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+GWEN'S CHALLENGE
+
+
+Gwen was undoubtedly wild and, as The Sky Pilot said, wilful and wicked.
+Even Bronco Bill and Hi Kendal would say so, without, of course, abating
+one jot of their admiration for her. For fourteen years she had lived
+chiefly with wild things. The cattle on the range, wild as deer, the
+coyotes, the jack-rabbits and the timber wolves were her mates and her
+instructors. From these she learned her wild ways. The rolling prairie
+of the Foothill country was her home. She loved it and all things that
+moved upon it with passionate love, the only kind she was capable of.
+And all summer long she spent her days riding up and down the range
+alone, or with her father, or with Joe, or, best of all, with The
+Duke, her hero and her friend. So she grew up strong, wholesome and
+self-reliant, fearing nothing alive and as untamed as a yearling range
+colt.
+
+She was not beautiful. The winds and sun had left her no complexion to
+speak of, but the glory of her red hair, gold-red, with purple sheen,
+nothing could tarnish. Her eyes, too, deep blue with rims of gray, that
+flashed with the glint of steel or shone with melting light as of the
+stars, according to her mood--those Irish, warm, deep eyes of hers were
+worth a man's looking at.
+
+Of course, all spoiled her. Ponka and her son Joe grovelled in abjectest
+adoration, while her father and all who came within touch of her simply
+did her will. Even The Duke, who loved her better than anything else,
+yielded lazy, admiring homage to his Little Princess, and certainly,
+when she stood straight up with her proud little gold-crowned head
+thrown back, flashing forth wrath or issuing imperious commands, she
+looked a princess, all of her.
+
+It was a great day and a good day for her when she fished The Sky Pilot
+out of the Swan and brought him home, and the night of Gwen's first
+"prayers," when she heard for the first time the story of the Man of
+Nazareth, was the best of all her nights up to that time. All through
+the winter, under The Pilot's guidance, she, with her father, the Old
+Timer, listening near, went over and over that story so old now to many,
+but ever becoming new, till a whole new world of mysterious Powers
+and Presences lay open to her imagination and became the home of great
+realities. She was rich in imagination and, when The Pilot read Bunyan's
+immortal poem, her mother's old "Pilgrim's Progress," she moved and
+lived beside the hero of that tale, backing him up in his fights and
+consumed with anxiety over his many impending perils, till she had him
+safely across the river and delivered into the charge of the shining
+ones.
+
+The Pilot himself, too, was a new and wholesome experience. He was the
+first thing she had yet encountered that refused submission, and the
+first human being that had failed to fall down and worship. There was
+something in him that would not ALWAYS yield, and, indeed, her pride
+and her imperious tempers he met with surprise and sometimes with a pity
+that verged toward contempt. With this she was not well pleased and not
+infrequently she broke forth upon him. One of these outbursts is stamped
+upon my mind, not only because of its unusual violence, but chiefly
+because of the events which followed. The original cause of her rage was
+some trifling misdeed of the unfortunate Joe; but when I came upon the
+scene it was The Pilot who was occupying her attention. The expression
+of surprise and pity on his face appeared to stir her up.
+
+"How dare you look at me like that?" she cried.
+
+"How very extraordinary that you can't keep hold of yourself better!" he
+answered.
+
+"I can!" she stamped, "and I shall do as I like!"
+
+"It is a great pity," he said, with provoking calm, "and besides, it is
+weak and silly." His words were unfortunate.
+
+"Weak!" she gasped, when her breath came back to her. "Weak!"
+
+"Yes," he said, "very weak and childish."
+
+Then she could have cheerfully put him to a slow and cruel death. When
+she had recovered a little she cried vehemently:
+
+"I'm not weak! I'm strong! I'm stronger than you are! I'm strong
+as--as--a man!"
+
+I do not suppose she meant the insinuation; at any rate The Pilot
+ignored it and went on.
+
+"You're not strong enough to keep your temper down." And then, as she
+had no reply ready, he went on, "And really, Gwen, it is not right. You
+must not go on in this way."
+
+Again his words were unfortunate.
+
+"MUST NOT!" she cried, adding an inch to her height. "Who says so?"
+
+"God!" was the simple, short answer.
+
+She was greatly taken back, and gave a quick glance over her shoulder as
+if to see Him, who would dare to say MUST NOT to her; but, recovering,
+she answered sullenly:
+
+"I don't care!"
+
+"Don't care for God?" The Pilot's voice was quiet and solemn, but
+something in his manner angered her, and she blazed forth again.
+
+"I don't care for anyone, and I SHALL do as I like."
+
+The Pilot looked at her sadly for a moment, and then said slowly:
+
+"Some day, Gwen, you will not be able to do as you like."
+
+I remember well the settled defiance in her tone and manner as she took
+a step nearer him and answered in a voice trembling with passion:
+
+"Listen! I have always done as I like, and I shall do as I like till I
+die!" And she rushed forth from the house and down toward the canyon,
+her refuge from all disturbing things, and chiefly from herself.
+
+I could not shake off the impression her words made upon me. "Pretty
+direct, that," I said to The Pilot, as we rode away. "The declaration
+may be philosophically correct, but it rings uncommonly like a challenge
+to the Almighty. Throws down the gauntlet, so to speak."
+
+But The Pilot only said, "Don't! How can you?"
+
+Within a week her challenge was accepted, and how fiercely and how
+gallantly did she struggle to make it good!
+
+It was The Duke that brought me the news, and as he told me the story
+his gay, careless self-command for once was gone. For in the gloom
+of the canyon where he overtook me I could see his face gleaming out
+ghastly white, and even his iron nerve could not keep the tremor from
+his voice.
+
+"I've just sent up the doctor," was his answer to my greeting. "I looked
+for you last night, couldn't find you, and so rode off to the Fort."
+
+"What's up?" I said, with fear in my heart, for no light thing moved The
+Duke.
+
+"Haven't you heard? It's Gwen," he said, and the next minute or two he
+gave to Jingo, who was indulging in a series of unexpected plunges. When
+Jingo was brought down, The Duke was master of himself and told his tale
+with careful self-control.
+
+Gwen, on her father's buckskin bronco, had gone with The Duke to the big
+plain above the cut-bank where Joe was herding the cattle. The day
+was hot and a storm was in the air. They found Joe riding up and down,
+singing to keep the cattle quiet, but having a hard time to hold the
+bunch from breaking. While The Duke was riding around the far side of
+the bunch, a cry from Gwen arrested his attention. Joe was in trouble.
+His horse, a half-broken cayuse, had stumbled into a badger-hole and had
+bolted, leaving Joe to the mercy of the cattle. At once they began to
+sniff suspiciously at this phenomenon, a man on foot, and to follow
+cautiously on his track. Joe kept his head and walked slowly out, till
+all at once a young cow began to bawl and to paw the ground. In another
+minute one, and then another of the cattle began to toss their heads and
+bunch and bellow till the whole herd of two hundred were after Joe.
+Then Joe lost his head and ran. Immediately the whole herd broke into a
+thundering gallop with heads and tails aloft and horns rattling like the
+loading of a regiment of rifles.
+
+"Two more minutes," said The Duke, "would have done for Joe, for I could
+never have reached him; but, in spite of my most frantic warnings and
+signalings, right into the face of that mad, bellowing, thundering
+mass of steers rode that little girl. Nerve! I have some myself, but I
+couldn't have done it. She swung her horse round Joe and sailed out with
+him, with the herd bellowing at the tail of her bronco. I've seen some
+cavalry things in my day, but for sheer cool bravery nothing touches
+that."
+
+"How did it end? Did they run them down?" I asked, with terror at such a
+result.
+
+"No, they crowded her toward the cut-bank, and she was edging them off
+and was almost past, when they came to a place where the bank bit in,
+and her iron-mouthed brute wouldn't swerve, but went pounding on, broke
+through, plunged; she couldn't spring free because of Joe, and pitched
+headlong over the bank, while the cattle went thundering past. I flung
+myself off Jingo and slid down somehow into the sand, thirty feet below.
+Here was Joe safe enough, but the bronco lay with a broken leg, and half
+under him was Gwen. She hardly knew she was hurt, but waved her hand to
+me and cried out, 'Wasn't that a race? I couldn't swing this hard-headed
+brute. Get me out.' But even as she spoke the light faded from her eyes,
+she stretched out her hands to me, saying faintly, 'Oh, Duke,' and lay
+back white and still. We put a bullet into the buckskin's head, and
+carried her home in our jackets, and there she lies without a sound from
+her poor, white lips."
+
+The Duke was badly cut up. I had never seen him show any sign of grief
+before, but as he finished the story he stood ghastly and shaking. He
+read my surprise in my face and said:
+
+"Look here, old chap, don't think me quite a fool. You can't know what
+that little girl has done for me these years. Her trust in me--it is
+extraordinary how utterly she trusts me--somehow held me up to my best
+and back from perdition. It is the one bright spot in my life in this
+blessed country. Everyone else thinks me a pleasant or unpleasant kind
+of fiend."
+
+I protested rather faintly.
+
+"Oh, don't worry your conscience," he answered, with a slight return
+of his old smile, "a fuller knowledge would only justify the opinion."
+Then, after a pause, he added: "But if Gwen goes, I must pull out, I
+could not stand it."
+
+As we rode up, the doctor came out.
+
+"Well, what do you think?" asked The Duke.
+
+"Can't say yet," replied the old doctor, gruff with long army practice,
+"bad enough. Good night."
+
+But The Duke's hand fell upon his shoulder with a grip that must have
+got to the bone, and in a husky voice he asked:
+
+"Will she live?"
+
+The doctor squirmed, but could not shake off that crushing grip.
+
+"Here, you young tiger, let go! What do you think I am made of?" he
+cried, angrily. "I didn't suppose I was coming to a bear's den, or I
+should have brought a gun."
+
+It was only by the most complete apology that The Duke could mollify the
+old doctor sufficiently to get his opinion.
+
+"No, she will not die! Great bit of stuff! Better she should die,
+perhaps! But can't say yet for two weeks. Now remember," he added
+sharply, looking into The Duke's woe-stricken face, "her spirits must be
+kept up. I have lied most fully and cheerfully to them inside; you must
+do the same," and the doctor strode away, calling out:
+
+"Joe! Here, Joe! Where is he gone? Joe, I say! Extraordinary selection
+Providence makes at times; we could have spared that lazy half-breed
+with pleasure! Joe! Oh, here you are! Where in thunder--" But here the
+doctor stopped abruptly. The agony in the dark face before him was too
+much even for the bluff doctor. Straight and stiff Joe stood by the
+horse's head till the doctor had mounted, then with a great effort he
+said:
+
+"Little miss, she go dead?"
+
+"Dead!" called out the doctor, glancing at the open window. "Why,
+bless your old copper carcass, no! Gwen will show you yet how to rope a
+steer."
+
+Joe took a step nearer, and lowering his tone said:
+
+"You speak me true? Me man, Me no papoose." The piercing black eyes
+searched the doctor's face. The doctor hesitated a moment, and then,
+with an air of great candor, said cheerily:
+
+"That's all right, Joe. Miss Gwen will cut circles round your old cayuse
+yet. But remember," and the doctor was very impressive, "you must make
+her laugh every day."
+
+Joe folded his arms across his breast and stood like a statue till the
+doctor rode away; then turning to us he grunted out:
+
+"Him good man, eh?"
+
+"Good man," answered The Duke, adding, "but remember, Joe, what he told
+you to do. Must make her laugh every day."
+
+Poor Joe! Humor was not his forte, and his attempt in this direction
+in the weeks that followed would have been humorous were they not so
+pathetic. How I did my part I cannot tell. Those weeks are to me now
+like the memory of an ugly nightmare. The ghostly old man moving out
+and in of his little daughter's room in useless, dumb agony; Ponka's
+woe-stricken Indian face; Joe's extraordinary and unusual but loyal
+attempts at fun-making grotesquely sad, and The Duke's unvarying and
+invincible cheeriness; these furnish light and shade for the picture my
+memory brings me of Gwen in those days.
+
+For the first two weeks she was simply heroic. She bore her pain without
+a groan, submitted to the imprisonment which was harder than pain with
+angelic patience. Joe, The Duke and I carried out our instructions with
+careful exactness to the letter. She never doubted, and we never let her
+doubt but that in a few weeks she would be on the pinto's back again and
+after the cattle. She made us pass our word for this till it seemed as
+if she must have read the falsehoods on our brows.
+
+"To lie cheerfully with her eyes upon one's face calls for more than I
+possess," said The Duke one day. "The doctor should supply us tonics. It
+is an arduous task."
+
+And she believed us absolutely, and made plans for the fall "round-up,"
+and for hunts and rides till one's heart grew sick. As to the ethical
+problem involved, I decline to express an opinion, but we had no need
+to wait for our punishment. Her trust in us, her eager and confident
+expectation of the return of her happy, free, outdoor life; these
+brought to us, who knew how vain they were, their own adequate
+punishment for every false assurance we gave. And how bright and brave
+she was those first days! How resolute to get back to the world of air
+and light outside!
+
+But she had need of all her brightness and courage and resolution before
+she was done with her long fight.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+GWEN'S CANYON
+
+
+Gwen's hope and bright courage, in spite of all her pain, were wonderful
+to witness. But all this cheery hope and courage and patience snuffed
+out as a candle, leaving noisome darkness to settle down in that
+sick-room from the day of the doctor's consultation.
+
+The verdict was clear and final. The old doctor, who loved Gwen as his
+own, was inclined to hope against hope, but Fawcett, the clever young
+doctor from the distant town, was positive in his opinion. The scene is
+clear to me now, after many years. We three stood in the outer room; The
+Duke and her father were with Gwen. So earnest was the discussion that
+none of us heard the door open just as young Fawcett was saying in
+incisive tones:
+
+"No! I can see no hope. The child can never walk again."
+
+There was a cry behind us.
+
+"What! Never walk again! It's a lie!" There stood the Old Timer, white,
+fierce, shaking.
+
+"Hush!" said the old doctor, pointing at the open door. He was too late.
+Even as he spoke, there came from the inner room a wild, unearthly
+cry as of some dying thing and, as we stood gazing at one another with
+awe-stricken faces, we heard Gwen's voice as in quick, sharp pain.
+
+"Daddy! daddy! come! What do they say? Tell me, daddy. It is not true!
+It is not true! Look at me, daddy!"
+
+She pulled up her father's haggard face from the bed.
+
+"Oh, daddy, daddy, you know it's true. Never walk again!"
+
+She turned with a pitiful cry to The Duke, who stood white and stiff
+with arms drawn tight across his breast on the other side of the bed.
+
+"Oh, Duke, did you hear them? You told me to be brave, and I tried not
+to cry when they hurt me. But I can't be brave! Can I, Duke? Oh, Duke!
+Never to ride again!"
+
+She stretched out her hands to him. But The Duke, leaning over her and
+holding her hands fast in his, could only say brokenly over and over:
+"Don't, Gwen! Don't, Gwen dear!"
+
+But the pitiful, pleading voice went on.
+
+"Oh, Duke! Must I always lie here? Must, I? Why must I?"
+
+"God knows," answered The Duke bitterly, under his breath, "I don't!"
+
+She caught at the word.
+
+"Does He?" she cried, eagerly. Then she paused suddenly, turned to me
+and said: "Do you remember he said some day I could not do as I liked?"
+
+I was puzzled.
+
+"The Pilot," she cried, impatiently, "don't you remember? And I said I
+should do as I liked till I died."
+
+I nodded my head and said: "But you know you didn't mean it."
+
+"But I did, and I do," she cried, with passionate vehemence, "and I will
+do as I like! I will not lie here! I will ride! I will! I will! I will!"
+and she struggled up, clenched her fists, and sank back faint and weak.
+It was not a pleasant sight, but gruesome. Her rage against that Unseen
+Omnipotence was so defiant and so helpless.
+
+Those were dreadful weeks to Gwen and to all about her. The constant
+pain could not break her proud spirit; she shed no tears; but she
+fretted and chafed and grew more imperiously exacting every day. Ponka
+and Joe she drove like a slave master, and even her father, when he
+could not understand her wishes, she impatiently banished from her room.
+Only The Duke could please or bring her any cheer, and even The Duke
+began to feel that the day was not far off when he, too, would fail, and
+the thought made him despair. Her pain was hard to bear, but harder than
+the pain was her longing for the open air and the free, flower-strewn,
+breeze-swept prairie. But most pitiful of all were the days when, in her
+utter weariness and uncontrollable unrest, she would pray to be taken
+down into the canyon.
+
+"Oh, it is so cool and shady," she would plead, "and the flowers up in
+the rocks and the vines and things are all so lovely. I am always better
+there. I know I should be better," till The Duke would be distracted and
+would come to me and wonder what the end would be.
+
+One day, when the strain had been more terrible than usual, The Duke
+rode down to me and said:
+
+"Look here, this thing can't go on. Where is The Pilot gone? Why doesn't
+he stay where he belongs? I wish to Heaven he would get through with his
+absurd rambling."
+
+"He's gone where he was sent," I replied shortly. "You don't set much
+store by him when he does come round. He is gone on an exploring trip
+through the Dog Lake country. He'll be back by the end of next week."
+
+"I say, bring him up, for Heaven's sake," said The Duke, "he may be of
+some use, and anyway it will be a new face for her, poor child." Then he
+added, rather penitently: "I fear this thing is getting on to my nerves.
+She almost drove me out to-day. Don't lay it up against me, old chap."
+
+It was a new thing to hear The Duke confess his need of any man, much
+less penitence for a fault. I felt my eyes growing dim, but I said,
+roughly:
+
+"You be hanged! I'll bring The Pilot up when he comes."
+
+It was wonderful how we had all come to confide in The Pilot during
+his year of missionary work among us. Somehow the cowboy's name of "Sky
+Pilot" seemed to express better than anything else the place he held
+with us. Certain it is, that when, in their dark hours, any of the
+fellows felt in need of help to strike the "upward trail," they went to
+The Pilot; and so the name first given in chaff came to be the name
+that expressed most truly the deep and tender feeling these rough,
+big-hearted men cherished for him. When The Pilot came home I carefully
+prepared him for his trial, telling all that Gwen had suffered and
+striving to make him feel how desperate was her case when even The Duke
+had to confess himself beaten. He did not seem sufficiently impressed.
+Then I pictured for him all her fierce wilfulness and her fretful
+humors, her impatience with those who loved her and were wearing out
+their souls and bodies for her. "In short," I concluded, "she doesn't
+care a rush for anything in heaven or earth, and will yield to neither
+man nor God."
+
+The Pilot's eyes had been kindling as I talked, but he only answered,
+quietly:
+
+"What could you expect?"
+
+"Well, I do think she might show some signs of gratitude and some
+gentleness towards those ready to die for her."
+
+"Oh, you do!" said he, with high scorn. "You all combine to ruin her
+temper and disposition with foolish flattery and weak yielding to her
+whims, right or wrong; you smile at her imperious pride and encourage
+her wilfulness, and then not only wonder at the results, but blame her,
+poor child, for all. Oh, you are a fine lot, The Duke and all of you!"
+
+He had a most exasperating ability for putting one in the wrong, and
+I could only think of the proper and sufficient reply long after the
+opportunity for making it had passed. I wondered what The Duke would say
+to this doctrine. All the following day, which was Sunday, I could see
+that Gwen was on The Pilot's mind. He was struggling with the problem of
+pain.
+
+Monday morning found us on the way to the Old Timer's ranch. And what
+a morning it was! How beautiful our world seemed! About us rolled the
+round-topped, velvet hills, brown and yellow or faintly green, spreading
+out behind us to the broad prairie, and before, clambering up and up
+to meet the purple bases of the great mountains that lay their mighty
+length along the horizon and thrust up white, sunlit peaks into the blue
+sky. On the hillsides and down in the sheltering hollows we could see
+the bunches of cattle and horses feeding upon the rich grasses. High
+above, the sky, cloudless and blue, arched its great kindly roof from
+prairie to mountain peaks, and over all, above, below, upon prairie,
+hillsides and mountains, the sun poured his floods of radiant yellow
+light.
+
+As we followed the trail that wound up and into the heart of these
+rounded hills and ever nearer to the purple mountains, the morning
+breeze swept down to meet us, bearing a thousand scents, and filling us
+with its own fresh life. One can know the quickening joyousness of these
+Foothill breezes only after he has drunk with wide-open mouth, deep and
+full of them.
+
+Through all this mingling beauty of sunlit hills and shady hollows and
+purple, snow-peaked mountains, we rode with hardly a word, every minute
+adding to our heart-filling delight, but ever with the thought of
+the little room where, shut in from all this outside glory, lay Gwen,
+heart-sore with fretting and longing. This must have been in The Pilot's
+mind, for he suddenly held up his horse and burst out:
+
+"Poor Gwen, how she loves all this!--it is her very life. How can she
+help fretting the heart out of her? To see this no more!" He flung
+himself off his bronco and said, as if thinking aloud: "It is too awful!
+Oh, it is cruel! I don't wonder at her! God help me, what can I say to
+her?"
+
+He threw himself down upon the grass and turned over on his face. After
+a few minutes he appealed to me, and his face was sorely troubled.
+
+"How can one go to her? It seems to me sheerest mockery to speak of
+patience and submission to a wild young thing from whom all this
+is suddenly snatched forever--and this was very life to her, too,
+remember."
+
+Then he sprang up and we rode hard for an hour, till we came to the
+mouth of the canyon. Here the trail grew difficult and we came to a
+walk. As we went down into the cool depths the spirit of the canyon came
+to meet us and took The Pilot in its grip. He rode in front, feasting
+his eyes on all the wonders in that storehouse of beauty. Trees of many
+kinds deepened the shadows of the canyon. Over us waved the big elms
+that grew up here and there out of the bottom, and around their feet
+clustered low cedars and hemlocks and balsams, while the sturdy, rugged
+oaks and delicate, trembling poplars clung to the rocky sides and
+clambered up and out to the canyon's sunny lips. Back of all, the great
+black rocks, decked with mossy bits and clinging things, glistened cool
+and moist between the parting trees. From many an oozy nook the dainty
+clematis and columbine shook out their bells, and, lower down, from
+beds of many-colored moss the late wind-flower and maiden-hair and tiny
+violet lifted up brave, sweet faces. And through the canyon the Little
+Swan sang its song to rocks and flowers and overhanging trees, a song
+of many tones, deep-booming where it took its first sheer plunge,
+gay-chattering where it threw itself down the ragged rocks, and
+soft-murmuring where it lingered about the roots of the loving,
+listening elms. A cool, sweet, soothing place it was, with all its
+shades and sounds and silences, and, lest it should be sad to any, the
+sharp, quick sunbeams danced and laughed down through all its leaves
+upon mosses, flowers and rocks. No wonder that The Pilot, drawing a deep
+breath as he touched the prairie sod again, said:
+
+"That does me good. It is better at times even than the sunny hills.
+This was Gwen's best spot."
+
+I saw that the canyon had done its work with him. His face was strong
+and calm as the hills on a summer morning, and with this face he looked
+in upon Gwen. It was one of her bad days and one of her bad moods, but
+like a summer breeze he burst into the little room.
+
+"Oh, Gwen!" he cried, without a word of greeting, much less of
+Commiseration, "we have had such a ride!" And he spread out the sunlit,
+round-topped hills before her, till I could feel their very breezes in
+my face. This The Duke had never dared to do, fearing to grieve her with
+pictures of what she should look upon no more. But, as The Pilot talked,
+before she knew, Gwen was out again upon her beloved hills, breathing
+their fresh, sunny air, filling her heart with their multitudinous
+delights, till her eyes grew bright and the lines of fretting smoothed
+out of her face and she forgot her pain. Then, before she could
+remember, he had her down into the canyon, feasting her heart with its
+airs and sights and sounds. The black, glistening rocks, tricked out
+with moss and trailing vines, the great elms and low green cedars, the
+oaks and shivering poplars, the clematis and columbine hanging from
+the rocky nooks, and the violets and maiden-hair deep bedded in their
+mosses. All this and far more he showed her with a touch so light as not
+to shake the morning dew from bell or leaf or frond, and with a voice so
+soft and full of music as to fill our hearts with the canyon's mingling
+sounds, and, as I looked upon her face, I said to myself: "Dear old
+Pilot! for this I shall always love you well." As poor Gwen listened,
+the rapture of it drew the big tears down her cheeks--alas! no longer
+brown, but white, and for that day at least the dull, dead weariness was
+lifted from her heart.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE CANYON FLOWERS
+
+
+The Pilot's first visit to Gwen had been a triumph. But none knew better
+than he that the fight was still to come, for deep in Gwen's heart were
+thoughts whose pain made her forget all other.
+
+"Was it God let me fall?" she asked abruptly one day, and The Pilot
+knew the fight was on; but he only answered, looking fearlessly into her
+eyes:
+
+"Yes, Gwen dear."
+
+"Why did He let me fall?" and her voice was very deliberate.
+
+"I don't know, Gwen dear," said The Pilot steadily. "He knows."
+
+"And does He know I shall never ride again? Does He know how long the
+days are, and the nights when I can't sleep? Does He know?"
+
+"Yes, Gwen dear," said The Pilot, and the tears were standing in his
+eyes, though his voice was still steady enough.
+
+"Are you sure He knows?" The voice was painfully intense.
+
+"Listen to me, Gwen," began The Pilot, in great distress, but she cut
+him short.
+
+"Are you quite sure He knows? Answer me!" she cried, with her old
+imperiousness.
+
+"Yes, Gwen, He knows all about you."
+
+"Then what do you think of Him, just because He's big and strong,
+treating a little girl that way?" Then she added, viciously: "I hate
+Him! I don't care! I hate Him!"
+
+But The Pilot did not wince. I wondered how he would solve that problem
+that was puzzling, not only Gwen, but her father and The Duke, and all
+of us--the WHY of human pain.
+
+"Gwen," said The Pilot, as if changing the subject, "did it hurt to put
+on the plaster jacket?"
+
+"You just bet!" said Gwen, lapsing in her English, as The Duke was not
+present; "it was worse than anything--awful! They had to straighten me
+out, you know," and she shuddered at the memory of that pain.
+
+"What a pity your father or The Duke was not here!" said The Pilot,
+earnestly.
+
+"Why, they were both here!"
+
+"What a cruel shame!" burst out The Pilot. "Don't they care for you any
+more?"
+
+"Of course they do," said Gwen, indignantly.
+
+"Why didn't they stop the doctors from hurting you so cruelly?"
+
+"Why, they let the doctors. It is going to help me to sit up and perhaps
+to walk about a little," answered Gwen, with blue-gray eyes open wide.
+
+"Oh," said The Pilot, "it was very mean to stand by and see you hurt
+like that."
+
+"Why, you silly," replied Owen, impatiently, "they want my back to get
+straight and strong."
+
+"Oh, then they didn't do it just for fun or for nothing?" said The
+Pilot, innocently.
+
+Gwen gazed at him in amazed and speechless wrath, and he went on:
+
+"I mean they love you though they let you be hurt; or rather they let
+the doctors hurt you BECAUSE they loved you and wanted to make you
+better."
+
+Gwen kept her eyes fixed with curious earnestness upon his face till the
+light began to dawn.
+
+"Do you mean," she began slowly, "that though God let me fall, He loves
+me?"
+
+The Pilot nodded; he could not trust his voice.
+
+"I wonder if that can be true," she said, as if to herself; and soon
+we said good-by and came away--The Pilot, limp and voiceless, but I
+triumphant, for I began to see a little light for Gwen.
+
+But the fight was by no means over; indeed, it was hardly well begun.
+For when the autumn came, with its misty, purple days, most glorious of
+all days in the cattle country, the old restlessness came back and the
+fierce refusal of her lot. Then came the day of the round-up. Why should
+she have to stay while all went after the cattle? The Duke would
+have remained, but she impatiently sent him away. She was weary and
+heart-sick, and, worst of all, she began to feel that most terrible of
+burdens, the burden of her life to others. I was much relieved when The
+Pilot came in fresh and bright, waving a bunch of wild-flowers in his
+hand.
+
+"I thought they were all gone," he cried. "Where do you think I found
+them? Right down by the big elm root," and, though he saw by the
+settled gloom of her face that the storm was coming, he went bravely on
+picturing the canyon in all the splendor of its autumn dress. But the
+spell would not work. Her heart was out on the sloping hills, where the
+cattle were bunching and crowding with tossing heads and rattling horns,
+and it was in a voice very bitter and impatient that she cried:
+
+"Oh, I am sick of all this! I want to ride! I want to see the cattle
+and the men and--and--and all the things outside." The Pilot was cowboy
+enough to know the longing that tugged at her heart for one wild race
+after the calves or steers, but he could only say:
+
+"Wait, Gwen. Try to be patient."
+
+"I am patient; at least I have been patient for two whole months, and
+it's no use, and I don't believe God cares one bit!"
+
+"Yes, He does, Gwen, more than any of us," replied The Pilot, earnestly.
+
+"No, He does not care," she answered, with angry emphasis, and The Pilot
+made no reply.
+
+"Perhaps," she went on, hesitatingly, "He's angry because I said I
+didn't care for Him, you remember? That was very wicked. But don't you
+think I'm punished nearly enough now? You made me very angry, and I
+didn't really mean it."
+
+Poor Gwen! God had grown to be very real to her during these weeks
+of pain, and very terrible. The Pilot looked down a moment into the
+blue-gray eyes, grown so big and so pitiful, and hurriedly dropping on
+his knees beside the bed he said, in a very unsteady voice:
+
+"Oh, Gwen, Gwen, He's not like that. Don't you remember how Jesus was
+with the poor sick people? That's what He's like."
+
+"Could Jesus make me well?"
+
+"Yes, Gwen."
+
+"Then why doesn't He?" she asked; and there was no impatience now, but
+only trembling anxiety as she went on in a timid voice: "I asked Him to,
+over and over, and said I would wait two months, and now it's more than
+three. Are you quite sure He hears now?" She raised herself on her elbow
+and gazed searchingly into The Pilot's face. I was glad it was not into
+mine. As she uttered the words, "Are you quite sure?" one felt that
+things were in the balance. I could not help looking at The Pilot with
+intense anxiety. What would he answer? The Pilot gazed out of the window
+upon the hills for a few moments. How long the silence seemed! Then,
+turning, looked into the eyes that searched his so steadily and answered
+simply:
+
+"Yes, Gwen, I am quite sure!" Then, with quick inspiration, he got her
+mother's Bible and said: "Now, Gwen, try to see it as I read." But,
+before he read, with the true artist's instinct he created the proper
+atmosphere. By a few vivid words he made us feel the pathetic
+loneliness of the Man of Sorrows in His last sad days. Then he read that
+masterpiece of all tragic picturing, the story of Gethsemane. And as he
+read we saw it all. The garden and the trees and the sorrow-stricken
+Man alone with His mysterious agony. We heard the prayer so pathetically
+submissive and then, for answer, the rabble and the traitor.
+
+Gwen was far too quick to need explanation, and The Pilot only said,
+"You see, Gwen, God gave nothing but the best--to His own Son only the
+best."
+
+"The best? They took Him away, didn't they?" She knew the story well.
+
+"Yes, but listen." He turned the leaves rapidly and read: "'We see Jesus
+for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor.' That is how He
+got His Kingdom."
+
+Gwen listened silent but unconvinced, and then said slowly:
+
+"But how can this be best for me? I am no use to anyone. It can't be
+best to just lie here and make them all wait on me, and--and--I did
+want to help daddy--and--oh--I know they will get tired of me! They are
+getting tired already--I--I--can't help being hateful."
+
+She was by this time sobbing as I had never heard her before--deep,
+passionate sobs. Then again the Pilot had an inspiration.
+
+"Now, Gwen," he said severely, "you know we're not as mean as that, and
+that you are just talking nonsense, every word. Now I'm going to smooth
+out your red hair and tell you a story."
+
+"It's NOT red," she cried, between her sobs. This was her sore point.
+
+"It is red, as red can be; a beautiful, shining purple RED," said The
+Pilot emphatically, beginning to brush.
+
+"Purple!" cried Gwen, scornfully.
+
+"Yes, I've seen it in the sun, purple. Haven't you?" said The Pilot,
+appealing to me. "And my story is about the canyon, our canyon, your
+canyon, down there."
+
+"Is it true?" asked Gwen, already soothed by the cool, quick-moving
+hands.
+
+"True? It's as true as--as--" he glanced round the room, "as the
+Pilgrim's Progress." This was satisfactory, and the story went on.
+
+"At first there were no canyons, but only the broad, open prairie. One
+day the Master of the Prairie, walking out over his great lawns, where
+were only grasses, asked the Prairie, 'Where are your flowers?' and the
+Prairie said, 'Master, I have no seeds.' Then he spoke to the birds,
+and they carried seeds of every kind of flower and strewed them far and
+wide, and soon the Prairie bloomed with crocuses and roses and buffalo
+beans and the yellow crowfoot and the wild sunflowers and the red lilies
+all the summer long. Then the Master came and was well pleased; but he
+missed the flowers he loved best of all, and he said to the Prairie:
+'Where are the clematis and the columbine, the sweet violets and wind
+flowers, and all the ferns and flowering shrubs?' And again he spoke to
+the birds, and again they carried all the seeds and strewed them far and
+wide. But, again, when the Master came, he could not find the flowers he
+loved best of all, and he said: 'Where are those, my sweetest flowers?'
+and the Prairie cried sorrowfully: 'Oh, Master, I cannot keep the
+flowers, for the winds sweep fiercely, and the sun beats upon my
+breast, and they wither up and fly away.' Then the Master spoke to the
+Lightning, and with one swift blow the Lightning cleft the Prairie to
+the heart. And the Prairie rocked and groaned in agony, and for many a
+day moaned bitterly over its black, jagged, gaping wound. But the Little
+Swan poured its waters through the cleft, and carried down deep black
+mould, and once more the birds carried seeds and strewed them in the
+canyon. And after a long time the rough rocks were decked out with soft
+mosses and trailing vines, and all the nooks were hung with clematis
+and columbine, and great elms lifted their huge tops high up into
+the sunlight, and down about their feet clustered the low cedars and
+balsams, and everywhere the violets and wind-flower and maiden-hair grew
+and bloomed, till the canyon became the Masters place for rest and peace
+and joy."
+
+The quaint tale was ended, and Gwen lay quiet for some moments, then
+said gently:
+
+"Yes! The canyon flowers are much the best. Tell me what it means."
+
+Then The Pilot read to her: "The fruits--I'll read 'flowers'--of the
+Spirit are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness,
+faith, meekness, self-control, and some of these grow only in the
+canyon."
+
+"Which are the canyon flowers?" asked Gwen softly, and The Pilot
+answered:
+
+"Gentleness, meekness, self-control; but though the others, love, joy,
+peace, bloom in the open, yet never with so rich a bloom and so sweet a
+perfume as in the canyon."
+
+For a long time Gwen lay quite still, and then said wistfully, while her
+lip trembled:
+
+"There are no flowers in my canyon, but only ragged rocks."
+
+"Some day they will bloom, Gwen dear; He will find them, and we, too,
+shall see them."
+
+Then he said good-by and took me away. He had done his work that day.
+
+We rode through the big gate, down the sloping hill, past the smiling,
+twinkling little lake, and down again out of the broad sunshine into
+the shadows and soft lights of the canyon. As we followed the trail
+that wound among the elms and cedars, the very air was full of gentle
+stillness; and as we moved we seemed to feel the touch of loving hands
+that lingered while they left us, and every flower and tree and vine
+and shrub and the soft mosses and the deep-bedded ferns whispered, as we
+passed, of love and peace and joy.
+
+To The Duke it was all a wonder, for as the days shortened outside they
+brightened inside; and every day, and more and more Gwen's room became
+the brightest spot in all the house, and when he asked The Pilot:
+
+"What did you do to the Little Princess, and what's all this about the
+canyon and its flowers?" The Pilot said, looking wistfully into The
+Duke's eyes:
+
+"The fruits of the Spirit are love, peace, long-suffering, gentleness,
+goodness, faith, meekness, self-control, and some of these are found
+only in the canyon," and The Duke, standing up straight, handsome and
+strong, looked back at The Pilot and said, putting out his hand:
+
+"Do you know, I believe you're right."
+
+"Yes, I'm quite sure," answered The Pilot, simply. Then, holding The
+Duke's hand as long as one man dare hold another's, he added: "When you
+come to your canyon, remember."
+
+"When I come!" said The Duke, and a quick spasm of pain passed over his
+handsome face--"God help me, it's not too far away now." Then he smiled
+again his old, sweet smile, and said:
+
+"Yes, you are all right, for, of all flowers I have seen, none are
+fairer or sweeter than those that are waving in Gwen's Canyon."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BILL'S BLUFF
+
+
+The Pilot had set his heart upon the building of a church in the Swan
+Creek district, partly because he was human and wished to set a mark
+of remembrance upon the country, but more because he held the sensible
+opinion, that a congregation, as a man, must have a home if it is to
+stay.
+
+All through the summer he kept setting this as an object at once
+desirable and possible to achieve. But few were found to agree with him.
+
+Little Mrs. Muir was of the few, and she was not to be despised, but her
+influence was neutralized by the solid immobility of her husband. He had
+never done anything sudden in his life. Every resolve was the result of
+a long process of mind, and every act of importance had to be previewed
+from all possible points. An honest man, strongly religious, and a great
+admirer of The Pilot, but slow-moving as a glacier, although with plenty
+of fire in him deep down.
+
+"He's soond at the hairt, ma man Robbie," his wife said to The Pilot,
+who was fuming and fretting at the blocking of his plans, "but he's
+terrible deleeberate. Bide ye a bit, laddie. He'll come tae."
+
+"But meantime the summer's going and nothing will be done," was The
+Pilot's distressed and impatient answer.
+
+So a meeting was called to discuss the question of building a church,
+with the result that the five men and three women present decided that
+for the present nothing could be done. This was really Robbie's opinion,
+though he refused to do or say anything but grunt, as The Pilot said
+to me afterwards, in a rage. It is true, Williams, the storekeeper just
+come from "across the line," did all the talking, but no one paid
+much attention to his fluent fatuities except as they represented the
+unexpressed mind of the dour, exasperating little Scotchman, who sat
+silent but for an "ay" now and then, so expressive and conclusive that
+everyone knew what he meant, and that discussion was at an end. The
+schoolhouse was quite sufficient for the present; the people were too
+few and too poor and they were getting on well under the leadership of
+their present minister. These were the arguments which Robbie's "ay"
+stamped as quite unanswerable.
+
+It was a sore blow to The Pilot, who had set his heart upon a church,
+and neither Mrs. Muir's "hoots" at her husband's slowness nor her
+promises that she "wad mak him hear it" could bring comfort or relieve
+his gloom.
+
+In this state of mind he rode up with me to pay our weekly visit to the
+little girl shut up in her lonely house among the hills.
+
+It had become The Pilot's custom during these weeks to turn for cheer to
+that little room, and seldom was he disappointed. She was so bright, so
+brave, so cheery, and so full of fun, that gloom faded from her presence
+as mist before the sun, and impatience was shamed into content.
+
+Gwen's bright face--it was almost always bright now--and her bright
+welcome did something for The Pilot, but the feeling of failure was upon
+him, and failure to his enthusiastic nature was worse than pain. Not
+that he confessed either to failure or gloom; he was far too true a
+man for that; but Gwen felt his depression in spite of all his brave
+attempts at brightness, and insisted that he was ill, appealing to me.
+
+"Oh, it's only his church," I said, proceeding to give her an account
+of Robbie Muir's silent, solid inertness, and how he had blocked The
+Pilot's scheme.
+
+"What a shame!" cried Gwen, indignantly. "What a bad man he must be!"
+
+The Pilot smiled. "No, indeed," he answered; "why, he's the best man in
+the place, but I wish he would say or do something. If he would only get
+mad and swear I think I should feel happier."
+
+Gwen looked quite mystified.
+
+"You see, he sits there in solemn silence looking so tremendously wise
+that most men feel foolish if they speak, while as for doing anything
+the idea appears preposterous, in the face of his immovableness."
+
+"I can't bear him!" cried Gwen. "I should like to stick pins in him."
+
+"I wish some one would," answered The Pilot. "It would make him seem
+more human if he could be made to jump."
+
+"Try again," said Gwen, "and get someone to make him jump."
+
+"It would be easier to build the church," said The Pilot, gloomily.
+
+"I could make him jump," said Gwen, viciously, "and I WILL," she added,
+after a pause.
+
+"You!" answered The Pilot, opening his eyes. "How?"
+
+"I'll find some way," she replied, resolutely.
+
+And so she did, for when the next meeting was called to consult as to
+the building of a church, the congregation, chiefly of farmers and their
+wives, with Williams, the storekeeper, were greatly surprised to see
+Bronco Bill, Hi, and half a dozen ranchers and cowboys walk in at
+intervals and solemnly seat themselves. Robbie looked at them with
+surprise and a little suspicion. In church matters he had no dealings
+with the Samaritans from the hills, and while, in their unregenerate
+condition, they might be regarded as suitable objects of missionary
+effort, as to their having any part in the direction, much less control,
+of the church policy--from such a notion Robbie was delivered by his
+loyal adherence to the scriptural injunction that he should not cast
+pearls before swine.
+
+The Pilot, though surprised to see Bill and the cattle men, was none the
+less delighted, and faced the meeting with more confidence. He stated
+the question for discussion: Should a church building be erected this
+summer in Swan Creek? and he put his case well. He showed the need of a
+church for the sake of the congregation, for the sake of the men in the
+district, the families growing up, the incoming settlers, and for the
+sake of the country and its future. He called upon all who loved their
+church and their country to unite in this effort. It was an enthusiastic
+appeal and all the women and some of the men were at once upon his side.
+
+Then followed dead, solemn silence. Robbie was content to wait till
+the effect of the speech should be dissipated in smaller talk. Then he
+gravely said:
+
+"The kirk wad be a gran' thing, nae doot, an' they wad a'
+dootless"--with a suspicious glance toward Bill--"rejoice in its
+erection. But we maun be cautious, an' I wad like to enquire hoo much
+money a kirk cud be built for, and whaur the money wad come frae?"
+
+The Pilot was ready with his answer. The cost would be $1,200. The
+Church Building Fund would contribute $200, the people could give $300
+in labor, and the remaining $700 he thought could be raised in the
+district in two years' time.
+
+"Ay," said Robbie, and the tone and manner were sufficient to drench any
+enthusiasm with the chilliest of water. So much was this the case that
+the chairman, Williams, seemed quite justified in saying:
+
+"It is quite evident that the opinion of the meeting is adverse to any
+attempt to load the community with a debt of one thousand dollars,"
+and he proceeded with a very complete statement of the many and various
+objections to any attempt at building a church this year. The people
+were very few, they were dispersed over a large area, they were not
+interested sufficiently, they were all spending money and making little
+in return; he supposed, therefore, that the meeting might adjourn.
+
+Robbie sat silent and expressionless in spite of his little wife's
+anxious whispers and nudges. The Pilot looked the picture of woe, and
+was on the point of bursting forth, when the meeting was startled by
+Bill.
+
+"Say, boys! they hain't much stuck on their shop, heh?" The low,
+drawling voice was perfectly distinct and arresting.
+
+"Hain't got no use for it, seemingly," was the answer from the dark
+corner.
+
+"Old Scotchie takes his religion out in prayin', I guess," drawled in
+Bill, "but wants to sponge for his plant."
+
+This reference to Robbie's proposal to use the school moved the
+youngsters to tittering and made the little Scotchman squirm, for he
+prided himself upon his independence.
+
+"There ain't $700 in the hull blanked outfit." This was a stranger's
+voice, and again Robbie squirmed, for he rather prided himself also on
+his ability to pay his way.
+
+"No good!" said another emphatic voice. "A blanked lot o' psalm-singing
+snipes."
+
+"Order, order!" cried the chairman.
+
+"Old Windbag there don't see any show for swipin' the collection, with
+Scotchie round," said Hi, with a following ripple of quiet laughter, for
+Williams' reputation was none too secure.
+
+Robbie was in a most uncomfortable state of mind. So unusually stirred
+was he that for the first time in his history he made a motion.
+
+"I move we adjourn, Mr. Chairman," he said, in a voice which actually
+vibrated with emotion.
+
+"Different here! eh, boys?" drawled Bill.
+
+"You bet," said Hi, in huge delight. "The meetin' ain't out yit."
+
+"Ye can bide till mor-r-nin'," said Robbie, angrily. "A'm gaen hame,"
+beginning to put on his coat.
+
+"Seems as if he orter give the password," drawled Bill.
+
+"Right you are, pardner," said Hi, springing to the door and waiting in
+delighted expectation for his friend's lead.
+
+Robbie looked at the door, then at his wife, hesitated a moment, I have
+no doubt wishing her home. Then Bill stood up and began to speak.
+
+"Mr. Chairman, I hain't been called on for any remarks--"
+
+"Go on!" yelled his friends from the dark corner. "Hear! hear!"
+
+"An' I didn't feel as if this war hardly my game, though The Pilot ain't
+mean about invitin' a feller on Sunday afternoons. But them as runs the
+shop don't seem to want us fellers round too much."
+
+Robbie was gazing keenly at Bill, and here shook his head, muttering
+angrily: "Hoots, nonsense! ye're welcome eneuch."
+
+"But," went on Bill, slowly, "I guess I've been on the wrong track.
+I've been a-cherishin' the opinion" ["Hear! hear!" yelled his admirers],
+"cherishin' the opinion," repeated Bill, "that these fellers," pointing
+to Robbie, "was stuck on religion, which I ain't much myself, and reely
+consarned about the blocking ov the devil, which The Pilot says can't be
+did without a regular Gospel factory. O' course, it tain't any biznis
+ov mine, but if us fellers was reely only sot on anything condoocin',"
+["Hear! hear!" yelled Hi, in ecstasy], "condoocin'," repeated Bill
+slowly and with relish, "to the good ov the Order" (Bill was a
+brotherhood man), "I b'lieve I know whar five hundred dollars mebbe cud
+per'aps be got."
+
+"You bet your sox," yelled the strange voice, in chorus with other
+shouts of approval.
+
+"O' course, I ain't no bettin' man," went on Bill, insinuatingly, "as a
+regular thing, but I'd gamble a few jist here on this pint; if the boys
+was stuck on anythin' costin' about seven hundred dollars, it seems to
+me likely they'd git it in about two days, per'aps."
+
+Here Robbie grunted out an "ay" of such fulness of contemptuous unbelief
+that Bill paused, and, looking over Robbie's head, he drawled out, even
+more slowly and mildly:
+
+"I ain't much given to bettin', as I remarked before, but, if a man
+shakes money at me on that proposition, I'd accommodate him to a limited
+extent." ["Hear! hear! Bully boy!" yelled Hi again, from the door.] "Not
+bein' too bold, I cherish the opinion" [again yells of approval from
+the corner], "that even for this here Gospel plant, seein' The Pilot's
+rather sot onto it, I b'lieve the boys could find five hundred dollars
+inside ov a month, if perhaps these fellers cud wiggle the rest out ov
+their pants."
+
+Then Robbie was in great wrath and, stung by the taunting, drawling
+voice beyond all self-command, he broke out suddenly:
+
+"Ye'll no can mak that guid, I doot."
+
+"D'ye mean I ain't prepared to back it up?"
+
+"Ay," said Robbie, grimly.
+
+"'Tain't likely I'll be called on; I guess $500 is safe enough," drawled
+Bill, cunningly drawing him on. Then Robbie bit.
+
+"Oo ay!" said he, in a voice of quiet contempt, "the twa hunner wull be
+here and 'twull wait ye long eneuch, I'se warrant ye."
+
+Then Bill nailed him.
+
+"I hain't got my card case on my person," he said, with a slight grin.
+
+"Left it on the pianner," suggested Hi, who was in a state of great
+hilarity at Bill's success in drawing the Scottie.
+
+"But," Bill proceeded, recovering himself, and with increasing suavity,
+"if some gentleman would mark down the date of the almanac I cherish the
+opinion" [cheers from the corner] "that in one month from to-day there
+will be five hundred dollars lookin' round for two hundred on that there
+desk mebbe, or p'raps you would incline to two fifty," he drawled, in
+his most winning tone to Robbie, who was growing more impatient every
+moment.
+
+"Nae matter tae me. Ye're haverin' like a daft loon, ony way."
+
+"You will make a memento of this slight transaction, boys, and per'aps
+the schoolmaster will write it down," said Bill.
+
+It was all carefully taken down, and amid much enthusiastic confusion
+the ranchers and their gang carried Bill off to Old Latour's to "licker
+up," while Robbie, in deep wrath but in dour silence, went off through
+the dark with his little wife following some paces behind him. His
+chief grievance, however, was against the chairman for "allooin' sic a
+disorderly pack o' loons tae disturb respectable fowk," for he could
+not hide the fact that he had been made to break through his accustomed
+defence line of immovable silence. I suggested, conversing with him next
+day upon the matter, that Bill was probably only chaffing.
+
+"Ay," said Robbie, in great disgust, "the daft eejut, he wad mak a fule
+o' onything or onybuddie."
+
+That was the sorest point with poor Robbie. Bill had not only cast
+doubts upon his religious sincerity, which the little man could not
+endure, but he had also held him up to the ridicule of the community,
+which was painful to his pride. But when he understood, some days later,
+that Bill was taking steps to back up his offer and had been heard to
+declare that "he'd make them pious ducks take water if he had to put up
+a year's pay," Robbie went quietly to work to make good his part of the
+bargain. For his Scotch pride would not suffer him to refuse a challenge
+from such a quarter.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+BILL'S PARTNER
+
+
+The next day everyone was talking of Bill's bluffing the church people,
+and there was much quiet chuckling over the discomfiture of Robbie Muir
+and his party.
+
+The Pilot was equally distressed and bewildered, for Bill's conduct, so
+very unusual, had only one explanation--the usual one for any folly in
+that country.
+
+"I wish he had waited till after the meeting to go to Latour's. He
+spoiled the last chance I had. There's no use now," he said, sadly.
+
+"But he may do something," I suggested.
+
+"Oh, fiddle!" said The Pilot, contemptuously. "He was only giving Muir
+'a song and dance,' as he would say. The whole thing is off."
+
+But when I told Gwen the story of the night's proceedings, she went into
+raptures over Bill's grave speech and his success in drawing the canny
+Scotchman.
+
+"Oh, lovely! dear old Bill and his 'cherished opinion.' Isn't he just
+lovely? Now he'll do something."
+
+"Who, Bill?"
+
+"No, that stupid Scottie." This was her name for the immovable Robbie.
+
+"Not he, I'm afraid. Of course Bill was just bluffing him. But it was
+good sport."
+
+"Oh, lovely! I knew he'd do something."
+
+"Who? Scottie?" I asked, for her pronouns were perplexing.
+
+"No!" she cried, "Bill! He promised he would, you know," she added.
+
+"So you were at the bottom of it?" I said, amazed.
+
+"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she kept crying, shrieking with laughter over
+Bill's cherishing opinions and desires. "I shall be ill. Dear old Bill.
+He said he'd 'try to get a move on to him.'"
+
+Before I left that day, Bill himself came to the Old Timer's ranch,
+inquiring in a casual way "if the 'boss' was in."
+
+"Oh, Bill!" called out Gwen, "come in here at once; I want you."
+
+After some delay and some shuffling with hat and spurs, Bill lounged
+in and set his lank form upon the extreme end of a bench at the door,
+trying to look unconcerned as he remarked: "Gittin' cold. Shouldn't
+wonder if we'd have a little snow."
+
+"Oh, come here," cried Gwen, impatiently, holding out her hand. "Come
+here and shake hands."
+
+Bill hesitated, spat out into the other room his quid of tobacco, and
+swayed awkwardly across the room toward the bed, and, taking Gwen's
+hand, he shook it up and down, and hurriedly said:
+
+"Fine day, ma'am; hope I see you quite well."
+
+"No; you don't," cried Gwen, laughing immoderately, but keeping hold
+of Bill's hand, to his great confusion. "I'm not well a bit, but I'm a
+great deal better since hearing of your meeting, Bill."
+
+To this Bill made no reply, being entirely engrossed in getting his
+hard, bony, brown hand out of the grasp of the white, clinging fingers.
+
+"Oh, Bill," went on Gwen, "it was delightful! How did you do it?"
+
+But Bill, who had by this time got back to his seat at the door,
+pretended ignorance of any achievement calling for remark. He "hadn't
+done nothin' more out ov the way than usual."
+
+"Oh, don't talk nonsense!" cried Gwen, impatiently. "Tell me how you got
+Scottie to lay you two hundred and fifty dollars."
+
+"Oh, that!" said Bill, in great surprise; "that ain't nuthin' much.
+Scottie riz slick enough."
+
+"But how did you get him?" persisted Gwen. "Tell me, Bill," she added,
+in her most coaxing voice.
+
+"Well," said Bill, "it was easy as rollin' off a log. I made the remark
+as how the boys ginerally put up for what they wanted without no fuss,
+and that if they was sot on havin' a Gospel shack I cherished the
+opinion"--here Gwen went off into a smothered shriek, which made Bill
+pause and look at her in alarm.
+
+"Go on," she gasped.
+
+"I cherished the opinion," drawled on Bill, while Gwen stuck her
+handkerchief into her mouth, "that mebbe they'd put up for it the seven
+hundred dollars, and, even as it was, seein' as The Pilot appeared to be
+sot on to it, if them fellers would find two hundred and fifty I cher--"
+another shriek from Gwen cut him suddenly short.
+
+"It's the rheumaticks, mebbe," said Bill, anxiously. "Terrible bad
+weather for 'em. I get 'em myself."
+
+"No, no," said Gwen, wiping away her tears and subduing her laughter.
+"Go on, Bill."
+
+"There ain't no more," said Bill. "He bit, and the master here put it
+down."
+
+"Yes, it's here right enough," I said, "but I don't suppose you mean to
+follow it up, do you?"
+
+"You don't, eh? Well, I am not responsible for your supposin', but them
+that is familiar with Bronco Bill generally expects him to back up his
+undertakin's."
+
+"But how in the world can you get five hundred dollars from the cowboys
+for a church?"
+
+"I hain't done the arithmetic yet, but it's safe enough. You see, it
+ain't the church altogether, it's the reputation of the boys."
+
+"I'll help, Bill," said Gwen.
+
+Bill nodded his head slowly and said: "Proud to have you," trying hard
+to look enthusiastic.
+
+"You don't think I can," said Gwen. Bill protested against such an
+imputation. "But I can. I'll get daddy and The Duke, too."
+
+"Good line!" said Bill, slapping his knee.
+
+"And I'll give all my money, too, but it isn't very much," she added,
+sadly.
+
+"Much!" said Bill, "if the rest of the fellows play up to that lead
+there won't be any trouble about that five hundred."
+
+Gwen was silent for some time, then said with an air of resolve:
+
+"I'll give my pinto!"
+
+"Nonsense!" I exclaimed, while Bill declared "there warn't no call."
+
+"Yes. I'll give the Pinto!" said Gwen, decidedly. "I'll not need him any
+more," her lips quivered, and Bill coughed and spat into the next room,
+"and besides, I want to give something I like. And Bill will sell him
+for me!"
+
+"Well," said Bill, slowly, "now come to think, it'll be purty hard to
+sell that there pinto." Gwen began to exclaim indignantly, and Bill
+hurried on to say, "Not but what he ain't a good leetle horse for his
+weight, good leetle horse, but for cattle--"
+
+"Why, Bill, there isn't a better cattle horse anywhere!"
+
+"Yes, that's so," assented Bill. "That's so, if you've got the rider,
+but put one of them rangers on to him and it wouldn't be no fair show."
+Bill was growing more convinced every moment that the pinto wouldn't
+sell to any advantage. "Ye see," he explained carefully and cunningly,
+"he ain't a horse you could yank round and slam into a bunch of steers
+regardless."
+
+Gwen shuddered. "Oh, I wouldn't think of selling him to any of those
+cowboys." Bill crossed his legs and hitched round uncomfortably on his
+bench. "I mean one of those rough fellows that don't know how to treat
+a horse." Bill nodded, looking relieved. "I thought that some one like
+you, Bill, who knew how to handle a horse--"
+
+Gwen paused, and then added: "I'll ask The Duke."
+
+"No call for that," said Bill, hastily, "not but what The Dook ain't all
+right as a jedge of a horse, but The Dook ain't got the connection, it
+ain't his line." Bill hesitated. "But, if you are real sot on to sellin'
+that pinto, come to think I guess I could find a sale for him, though,
+of course, I think perhaps the figger won't be high."
+
+And so it was arranged that the pinto should be sold and that Bill
+should have the selling of it.
+
+It was characteristic of Gwen that she would not take farewell of the
+pony on whose back she had spent so many hours of freedom and delight.
+When once she gave him up she refused to allow her heart to cling to him
+any more.
+
+It was characteristic, too, of Bill that he led off the pinto after
+night had fallen, so that "his pardner" might be saved the pain of the
+parting.
+
+"This here's rather a new game for me, but when my pardner," here he
+jerked his head towards Gwen's window, "calls for trumps, I'm blanked if
+I don't throw my highest, if it costs a leg."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+BILL'S FINANCING
+
+
+Bill's method of conducting the sale of the pinto was eminently
+successful as a financial operation, but there are those in the Swan
+Creek country who have never been able to fathom the mystery attaching
+to the affair. It was at the fall round-up, the beef round-up, as it
+is called, which this year ended at the Ashley Ranch. There were
+representatives from all the ranches and some cattle-men from across
+the line. The hospitality of the Ashley Ranch was up to its own
+lofty standard, and, after supper, the men were in a state of high
+exhilaration. The Hon. Fred and his wife, Lady Charlotte, gave
+themselves to the duties of their position as hosts for the day with a
+heartiness and grace beyond praise. After supper the men gathered round
+the big fire, which was piled up before the long, low shed, which stood
+open in front. It was a scene of such wild and picturesque interest as
+can only be witnessed in the western ranching country. About the fire,
+most of them wearing "shaps" and all of them wide, hard-brimmed cowboy
+hats, the men grouped themselves, some reclining upon skins thrown upon
+the ground, some standing, some sitting, smoking, laughing, chatting,
+all in highest spirits and humor. They had just got through with their
+season of arduous and, at times, dangerous toil. Their minds were full
+of their long, hard rides, their wild and varying experiences with mad
+cattle and bucking broncos, their anxious watchings through hot nights,
+when a breath of wind or a coyote's howl might set the herd off in
+a frantic stampede, their wolf hunts and badger fights and all the
+marvellous adventures that fill up a cowboy's summer. Now these were all
+behind them. To-night they were free men and of independent means, for
+their season's pay was in their pockets. The day's excitement, too, was
+still in their blood, and they were ready for anything.
+
+Bill, as king of the bronco-busters, moved about with the slow, careless
+indifference of a man sure of his position and sure of his ability to
+maintain it.
+
+He spoke seldom and slowly, was not as ready-witted as his partner, Hi
+Kendal, but in act he was swift and sure, and "in trouble" he could
+be counted on. He was, as they said, "a white man; white to the back,"
+which was understood to sum up the true cattle man's virtues.
+
+"Hello, Bill," said a friend, "where's Hi? Hain't seen him around!"
+
+"Well, don't jest know. He was going to bring up my pinto."
+
+"Your pinto? What pinto's that? You hain't got no pinto!"
+
+"Mebbe not," said Bill, slowly, "but I had the idee before you spoke
+that I had."
+
+"That so? Whar'd ye git him? Good for cattle?" The crowd began to
+gather.
+
+Bill grew mysterious, and even more than usually reserved.
+
+"Good fer cattle! Well, I ain't much on gamblin', but I've got a leetle
+in my pants that says that there pinto kin outwork any blanked bronco in
+this outfit, givin' him a fair show after the cattle."
+
+The men became interested.
+
+"Whar was he raised?"
+
+"Dunno."
+
+"Whar'd ye git him? Across the line?"
+
+"No," said Bill stoutly, "right in this here country. The Dook there
+knows him."
+
+This at once raised the pinto several points. To be known, and, as
+Bill's tone indicated, favorably known by The Duke, was a testimonial to
+which any horse might aspire.
+
+"Whar'd ye git him, Bill? Don't be so blanked oncommunicatin'!" said an
+impatient voice.
+
+Bill hesitated; then, with an apparent burst of confidence, he assumed
+his frankest manner and voice, and told his tale.
+
+"Well," he said, taking a fresh chew and offering his plug to his
+neighbor, who passed it on after helping himself, "ye see, it was like
+this. Ye know that little Meredith gel?"
+
+Chorus of answers: "Yes! The red-headed one. I know! She's a
+daisy!--reg'lar blizzard!--lightnin' conductor!"
+
+Bill paused, stiffened himself a little, dropped his frank air and
+drawled out in cool, hard tones: "I might remark that that young lady
+is, I might persoom to say, a friend of mine, which I'm prepared to back
+up in my best style, and if any blanked blanked son of a street sweeper
+has any remark to make, here's his time now!"
+
+In the pause that followed murmurs were heard extolling the many
+excellences of the young lady in question, and Bill, appeased, yielded
+to the requests for the continuance of his story, and, as he described
+Gwen and her pinto and her work on the ranch, the men, many of whom had
+had glimpses of her, gave emphatic approval in their own way. But as he
+told of her rescue of Joe and of the sudden calamity that had befallen
+her a great stillness fell upon the simple, tender-hearted fellows,
+and they listened with their eyes shining in the firelight with growing
+intentness. Then Bill spoke of The Pilot and how he stood by her and
+helped her and cheered her till they began to swear he was "all right";
+"and now," concluded Bill, "when The Pilot is in a hole she wants to
+help him out."
+
+"O' course," said one. "Right enough. How's she going to work it?" said
+another.
+
+"Well, he's dead set on to buildin' a meetin'-house, and them fellows
+down at the Creek that does the prayin' and such don't seem to back him
+up!"
+
+"Whar's the kick, Bill?"
+
+"Oh, they don't want to go down into their clothes and put up for it."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Why, he only asked 'em for seven hundred the hull outfit, and would
+give 'em two years, but they bucked--wouldn't look at it."
+
+[Chorus of expletives descriptive of the characters and personal
+appearance and belongings of the congregation of Swan Creek.]
+
+"Were you there, Bill? What did you do?"
+
+"Oh," said Bill, modestly, "I didn't do much. Gave 'em a little bluff."
+
+"No! How? What? Go on, Bill."
+
+But Bill remained silent, till under strong pressure, and, as if making
+a clean breast of everything, he said:
+
+"Well, I jest told 'em that if you boys made such a fuss about anythin'
+like they did about their Gospel outfit, an' I ain't sayin' anythin'
+agin it, you'd put up seven hundred without turnin' a hair."
+
+"You're the stuff, Bill! Good man! You're talkin' now! What did they say
+to that, eh, Bill?"
+
+"Well," said Bill, slowly, "they CALLED me!"
+
+"No! That so? An' what did you do, Bill?"
+
+"Gave 'em a dead straight bluff!"
+
+[Yells of enthusiastic approval.]
+
+"Did they take you, Bill?"
+
+"Well, I reckon they did. The master, here, put it down."
+
+Whereupon I read the terms of Bill's bluff.
+
+There was a chorus of very hearty approvals of Bill's course in "not
+taking any water" from that variously characterized "outfit." But the
+responsibility of the situation began to dawn upon them when some one
+asked:
+
+"How are you going about it, Bill?"
+
+"Well," drawled Bill, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, "there's
+that pinto."
+
+"Pinto be blanked!" said young Hill. "Say, boys, is that little girl
+going to lose that one pony of hers to help out her friend The Pilot?
+Good fellow, too, he is! We know he's the right sort."
+
+[Chorus of, "Not by a long sight; not much; we'll put up the stuff!
+Pinto!"]
+
+"Then," went on Bill, even more slowly, "there's The Pilot; he's going
+for to ante up a month's pay; 'taint much, o' course--twenty-eight a
+month and grub himself. He might make it two," he added, thoughtfully.
+But Bill's proposal was scorned with contemptuous groans. "Twenty-eight
+a month and grub himself o' course ain't much for a man to save money
+out ov to eddicate himself." Bill continued, as if thinking aloud, "O'
+course he's got his mother at home, but she can't make much more than
+her own livin', but she might help him some."
+
+This was altogether too much for the crowd. They consigned Bill and his
+plans to unutterable depths of woe.
+
+"O' course," Bill explained, "it's jest as you boys feel about it. Mebbe
+I was, bein' hot, a little swift in givin' 'em the bluff."
+
+"Not much, you wasn't! We'll see you out! That's the talk! There's
+between twenty and thirty of us here."
+
+"I should be glad to contribute thirty or forty if need be," said The
+Duke, who was standing not far off, "to assist in the building of a
+church. It would be a good thing, and I think the parson should be
+encouraged. He's the right sort."
+
+"I'll cover your thirty," said young Hill; and so it went from one to
+another in tens and fifteens and twenties, till within half an hour I
+had entered three hundred and fifty dollars in my book, with Ashley yet
+to hear from, which meant fifty more. It was Bill's hour of triumph.
+
+"Boys," he said, with solemn emphasis, "ye're all white. But that leetle
+pale-faced gel, that's what I'm thinkin' on. Won't she open them big
+eyes ov hers! I cherish the opinion that this'll tickle her some."
+
+The men were greatly pleased with Bill and even more pleased with
+themselves. Bill's picture of the "leetle gel" and her pathetically
+tragic lot had gone right to their hearts and, with men of that stamp,
+it was one of their few luxuries to yield to their generous impulses.
+The most of them had few opportunities of lavishing love and sympathy
+upon worthy objects and, when the opportunity came, all that was best in
+them clamored for expression.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+HOW THE PINTO SOLD
+
+
+The glow of virtuous feeling following the performance of their generous
+act prepared the men for a keener enjoyment than usual of a night's
+sport. They had just begun to dispose themselves in groups about the
+fire for poker and other games when Hi rode up into the light and with
+him a stranger on Gwen's beautiful pinto pony.
+
+Hi was evidently half drunk and, as he swung himself of his bronco,
+he saluted the company with a wave of the hand and hoped he saw them
+"kickin'."
+
+Bill, looking curiously at Hi, went up to the pinto and, taking him by
+the head, led him up into the light, saying:
+
+"See here, boys, there's that pinto of mine I was telling you about; no
+flies on him, eh?"
+
+"Hold on there! Excuse me!" said the stranger, "this here hoss belongs
+to me, if paid-down money means anything in this country."
+
+"The country's all right," said Bill in an ominously quiet voice, "but
+this here pinto's another transaction, I reckon."
+
+"The hoss is mine, I say, and what's more, I'm goin' to hold him," said
+the stranger in a loud voice.
+
+The men began to crowd around with faces growing hard. It was dangerous
+in that country to play fast and loose with horses.
+
+"Look a-hyar, mates," said the stranger, with a Yankee drawl, "I ain't
+no hoss thief, and if I hain't bought this hoss reg'lar and paid down
+good money then it ain't mine--if I have it is. That's fair, ain't it?"
+
+At this Hi pulled himself together, and in a half-drunken tone declared
+that the stranger was all right, and that he had bought the horse fair
+and square, and "there's your dust," said Hi, handing a roll to Bill.
+But with a quick movement Bill caught the stranger by the leg, and,
+before a word could be said, he was lying flat on the ground.
+
+"You git off that pony," said Bill, "till this thing is settled."
+
+There was something so terrible in Bill's manner that the man contented
+himself with blustering and swearing, while Bill, turning to Hi, said:
+
+"Did you sell this pinto to him?"
+
+Hi was able to acknowledge that, being offered a good price, and knowing
+that his partner was always ready for a deal, he had transferred the
+pinto to the stranger for forty dollars.
+
+Bill was in distress, deep and poignant. "'Taint the horse, but the
+leetle gel," he explained; but his partner's bargain was his, and
+wrathful as he was, he refused to attempt to break the bargain.
+
+At this moment the Hon. Fred, noting the unusual excitement about the
+fire, came up, followed at a little distance by his wife and The Duke.
+
+"Perhaps he'll sell," he suggested.
+
+"No," said Bill sullenly, "he's a mean cuss."
+
+"I know him," said the Hon. Fred, "let me try him." But the stranger
+declared the pinto suited him down to the ground and he wouldn't take
+twice his money for him.
+
+"Why," he protested, "that there's what I call an unusual hoss, and down
+in Montana for a lady he'd fetch up to a hundred and fifty dollars." In
+vain they haggled and bargained; the man was immovable. Eighty dollars
+he wouldn't look at, a hundred hardly made him hesitate. At this point
+Lady Charlotte came down into the light and stood by her husband,
+who explained the circumstances to her. She had already heard Bill's
+description of Gwen's accident and of her part in the church-building
+schemes. There was silence for a few moments as she stood looking at the
+beautiful pony.
+
+"What a shame the poor child should have to part with the dear little
+creature!" she said in a low tone to her husband. Then, turning to the
+stranger, she said in clear, sweet tones:
+
+"What do you ask for him?" He hesitated and then said, lifting his hat
+awkwardly in salute: "I was just remarking how that pinto would fetch
+one hundred and fifty dollars down into Montana. But seein' as a lady is
+enquirin', I'll put him down to one hundred and twenty-five."
+
+"Too much," she said promptly, "far too much, is it not, Bill?"
+
+"Well," drawled Bill, "if 'twere a fellar as was used to ladies he'd
+offer you the pinto, but he's too pizen mean even to come down to the
+even hundred."
+
+The Yankee took him up quickly. "Wall, if I were so blanked--pardon,
+madam"--taking off his hat, "used to ladies as some folks would like to
+think themselves, I'd buy that there pinto and make a present of it to
+this here lady as stands before me." Bill twisted uneasily.
+
+"But I ain't goin' to be mean; I'll put that pinto in for the even money
+for the lady if any man cares to put up the stuff."
+
+"Well, my dear," said the Hon. Fred with a bow, "we cannot well let that
+gage lie." She turned and smiled at him and the pinto was transferred
+to the Ashley stables, to Bill's outspoken delight, who declared he
+"couldn't have faced the music if that there pinto had gone across the
+line." I confess, however, I was somewhat surprised at the ease with
+which Hi escaped his wrath, and my surprise was in no way lessened when
+I saw, later in the evening, the two partners with the stranger taking
+a quiet drink out of the same bottle with evident mutual admiration and
+delight.
+
+"You're an A1 corker, you are! I'll be blanked if you ain't a bird--a
+singin' bird--a reg'lar canary," I heard Hi say to Bill.
+
+But Bill's only reply was a long, slow wink which passed into a frown
+as he caught my eye. My suspicion was aroused that the sale of the pinto
+might bear investigation, and this suspicion was deepened when Gwen next
+week gave me a rapturous account of how splendidly Bill had disposed
+of the pinto, showing me bills for one hundred and fifty dollars! To my
+look of amazement, Gwen replied:
+
+"You see, he must have got them bidding against each other, and besides,
+Bill says pintos are going up."
+
+Light began to dawn upon me, but I only answered that I knew they had
+risen very considerably in value within a month. The extra fifty was
+Bill's.
+
+I was not present to witness the finishing of Bill's bluff, but was told
+that when Bill made his way through the crowded aisle and laid his five
+hundred and fifty dollars on the schoolhouse desk the look of disgust,
+surprise and finally of pleasure on Robbie's face, was worth a hundred
+more. But Robbie was ready and put down his two hundred with the single
+remark:
+
+"Ay! ye're no as daft as ye look," mid roars of laughter from all.
+
+Then The Pilot, with eyes and face shining, rose and thanked them all;
+but when he told of how the little girl in her lonely shack in the hills
+thought so much of the church that she gave up for it her beloved pony,
+her one possession, the light from his eyes glowed in the eyes of all.
+
+But the men from the ranches who could understand the full meaning
+of her sacrifice and who also could realize the full measure of her
+calamity, were stirred to their hearts' depths, so that when Bill
+remarked in a very distinct undertone, "I cherish the opinion that this
+here Gospel shop wouldn't be materializin' into its present shape but
+for that leetle gel," there rose growls of approval in a variety of
+tones and expletives that left no doubt that his opinion was that of
+all.
+
+But though The Pilot never could quite get at the true inwardness of
+Bill's measures and methods, and was doubtless all the more comfortable
+in mind for that, he had no doubt that while Gwen's influence was the
+moving spring of action, Bill's bluff had a good deal to do with
+the "materializin'" of the first church in Swan Creek, and in this
+conviction, I share.
+
+Whether the Hon. Fred ever understood the peculiar style of Bill's
+financing, I do not quite know. But if he ever did come to know, he was
+far too much of a man to make a fuss. Besides, I fancy the smile on his
+lady's face was worth some large amount to him. At least, so the look of
+proud and fond love in his eyes seemed to say as he turned away with her
+from the fire the night of the pinto's sale.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE LADY CHARLOTTE
+
+
+The night of the pinto's sale was a night momentous to Gwen, for then it
+was that the Lady Charlotte's interest in her began. Momentous, too, to
+the Lady Charlotte, for it was that night that brought The Pilot into
+her life.
+
+I had turned back to the fire around which the men had fallen into
+groups prepared to have an hour's solid delight, for the scene was full
+of wild and picturesque beauty to me, when The Duke came and touched me
+on the shoulder.
+
+"Lady Charlotte would like to see you."
+
+"And why, pray?"
+
+"She wants to hear about this affair of Bill's."
+
+We went through the kitchen into the large dining-room, at one end of
+which was a stone chimney and fireplace. Lady Charlotte had declared
+that she did not much care what kind of a house the Hon. Fred would
+build for her, but that she must have a fireplace.
+
+She was very beautiful--tall, slight and graceful in every line. There
+was a reserve and a grand air in her bearing that put people in awe of
+her. This awe I shared; but as I entered the room she welcomed me with
+such kindly grace that I felt quite at ease in a moment.
+
+"Come and sit by me," she said, drawing an armchair into the circle
+about the fire. "I want you to tell us all about a great many things."
+
+"You see what you're in for, Connor," said her husband. "It is a serious
+business when my lady takes one in hand."
+
+"As he knows to his cost," she said, smiling and shaking her head at her
+husband.
+
+"So I can testify," put in The Duke.
+
+"Ah! I can't do anything with you," she replied, turning to him.
+
+"Your most abject slave," he replied with a profound bow.
+
+"If you only were," smiling at him--a little sadly, I thought--"I'd keep
+you out of all sorts of mischief."
+
+"Quite true, Duke," said her husband, "just look at me."
+
+The Duke gazed at him a moment or two. "Wonderful!" he murmured, "what a
+deliverance!"
+
+"Nonsense!" broke in Lady Charlotte. "You are turning my mind away from
+my purpose."
+
+"Is it possible, do you think?" said The Duke to her husband.
+
+"Not in the very least," he replied, "if my experience goes for
+anything."
+
+But Lady Charlotte turned her back upon them and said to me:
+
+"Now, tell me first about Bill's encounter with that funny little
+Scotchman."
+
+Then I told her the story of Bill's bluff in my best style, imitating,
+as I have some small skill in doing, the manner and speech of the
+various actors in the scene. She was greatly amused and interested.
+
+"And Bill has really got his share ready," she cried. "It is very clever
+of him."
+
+"Yes," I replied, "but Bill is only the very humble instrument, the
+moving spirit is behind."
+
+"Oh, yes, you mean the little girl that owns the pony," she said.
+"That's another thing you must tell me about."
+
+"The Duke knows more than I," I replied, shifting the burden to him; "my
+acquaintance is only of yesterday; his is lifelong."
+
+"Why have you never told me of her?" she demanded, turning to the Duke.
+
+"Haven't I told you of the little Meredith girl? Surely I have," said
+The Duke, hesitatingly.
+
+"Now, you know quite well you have not, and that means you are deeply
+interested. Oh, I know you well," she said, severely.
+
+"He is the most secretive man," she went on to me, "shamefully and
+ungratefully reserved."
+
+The Duke smiled; then said, lazily: "Why, she's just a child. Why should
+you be interested in her? No one was," he added sadly, "till misfortune
+distinguished her."
+
+Her eyes grew soft, and her gay manner changed, and she said to The Duke
+gently: "Tell me of her now."
+
+It was evidently an effort, but he began his story of Gwen from the time
+he saw her first, years ago, playing in and out of her father's rambling
+shack, shy and wild as a young fox. As he went on with his tale, his
+voice dropped into a low, musical tone, and he seemed as if dreaming
+aloud. Unconsciously he put into the tale much of himself, revealing how
+great an influence the little child had had upon him, and how empty of
+love his life had been in this lonely land. Lady Charlotte listened
+with face intent upon him, and even her bluff husband was conscious that
+something more than usual was happening. He had never heard The Duke
+break through his proud reserve before.
+
+But when The Duke told the story of Gwen's awful fall, which he did with
+great graphic power, a little red spot burned upon the Lady Charlotte's
+pale cheek, and, as The Duke finished his tale with the words, "It was
+her last ride," she covered her face with her hands and cried:
+
+"Oh, Duke, it is horrible to think of! But what splendid courage!"
+
+"Great stuff! eh, Duke?" cried the Hon. Fred, kicking a burning log
+vigorously.
+
+But The Duke made no reply.
+
+"How is she now, Duke?" said Lady Charlotte. The Duke looked up as
+from a dream. "Bright as the morning," he said. Then, in reply to Lady
+Charlotte's look of wonder, he added:
+
+"The Pilot did it. Connor will tell you. I don't understand it."
+
+"Nor do I, either. But I can tell you only what I saw and heard," I
+answered.
+
+"Tell me," said Lady Charlotte very gently.
+
+Then I told her how, one by one, we had failed to help her, and how
+The Pilot had ridden up that morning through the canyon, and how he had
+brought the first light and peace to her by his marvellous pictures of
+the flowers and ferns and trees and all the wonderful mysteries of that
+wonderful canyon.
+
+"But that wasn't all," said the Duke quickly, as I stopped.
+
+"No," I said slowly, "that was NOT all by a long way; but the rest I
+don't understand. That's The Pilot's secret."
+
+"Tell me what he did," said Lady Charlotte, softly, once more. "I want
+to know."
+
+"I don't think I can," I replied. "He simply read out of the Scriptures
+to her and talked."
+
+Lady Charlotte looked disappointed.
+
+"Is that all?" she said.
+
+"It is quite enough for Gwen," said The Duke confidently, "for there she
+lies, often suffering, always longing for the hills and the free air,
+but with her face radiant as the flowers of the beloved canyon."
+
+"I must see her," said Lady Charlotte, "and that wonderful Pilot."
+
+"You'll be disappointed in him," said The Duke.
+
+"Oh, I've see him and heard him, but I don't know him," she replied.
+"There must be something in him that one does not see at first."
+
+"So I have discovered," said The Duke, and with that the subject was
+dropped, but not before the Lady Charlotte made me promise to take her
+to Gwen, The Duke being strangely unwilling to do this for her.
+
+"You'll be disappointed," he said. "She is only a simple little child."
+
+But Lady Charlotte thought differently, and, having made up her mind
+upon the matter, there was nothing for it, as her husband said, but "for
+all hands to surrender and the sooner the better."
+
+And so the Lady Charlotte had her way, which, as it turned out, was much
+the wisest and best.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THROUGH GWEN'S WINDOW
+
+
+When I told The Pilot of Lady Charlotte's purpose to visit Gwen, he was
+not too well pleased.
+
+"What does she want with Gwen?" he said impatiently. "She will just put
+notions into her head and make the child discontented."
+
+"Why should she?" said I.
+
+"She won't mean to, but she belongs to another world, and Gwen cannot
+talk to her without getting glimpses of a life that will make her long
+for what she can never have," said The Pilot.
+
+"But suppose it is not idle curiosity in Lady Charlotte," I suggested.
+
+"I don't say it is quite that," he answered, "but these people love a
+sensation."
+
+"I don't think you know Lady Charlotte," I replied. "I hardly think from
+her tone the other night that she is a sensation hunter."
+
+"At any rate," he answered, decidedly, "she is not to worry poor Gwen."
+
+I was a little surprised at his attitude, and felt that he was unfair to
+Lady Charlotte, but I forbore to argue with him on the matter. He could
+not bear to think of any person or thing threatening the peace of his
+beloved Gwen.
+
+The very first Saturday after my promise was given we were surprised
+to see Lady Charlotte ride up to the door of our shack in the early
+morning.
+
+"You see, I am not going to let you off," she said, as I greeted her.
+"And the day is so very fine for a ride."
+
+I hastened to apologize for not going to her, and then to get out of my
+difficulty, rather meanly turned toward The Pilot, and said:
+
+"The Pilot doesn't approve of our visit."
+
+"And why not, may I ask?" said Lady Charlotte, lifting her eyebrows.
+
+The Pilot's face burned, partly with wrath at me, and partly with
+embarrassment; for Lady Charlotte had put on her grand air. But he stood
+to his guns.
+
+"I was saying, Lady Charlotte," he said, looking straight into her eyes,
+"that you and Gwen have little in common--and--and--" he hesitated.
+
+"Little in common!" said Lady Charlotte quietly. "She has suffered
+greatly."
+
+The Pilot was quick to catch the note of sadness in her voice.
+
+"Yes," he said, wondering at her tone, "she has suffered greatly."
+
+"And," continued Lady Charlotte, "she is bright as the morning, The Duke
+says." There was a look of pain in her face.
+
+The Pilot's face lit up, and he came nearer and laid his hand
+caressingly upon her beautiful horse.
+
+"Yes, thank God!" he said quickly, "bright as the morning."
+
+"How can that be?" she asked, looking down into his face. "Perhaps she
+would tell me."
+
+"Lady Charlotte," said The Pilot with a sudden flush, "I must ask your
+pardon. I was wrong. I thought you--" he paused; "but go to Gwen, she
+will tell you, and you will do her good."
+
+"Thank you," said Lady Charlotte, putting out her hand, "and perhaps you
+will come and see me, too."
+
+The Pilot promised and stood looking after us as we rode up the trail.
+
+"There is something more in your Pilot than at first appears," she said.
+"The Duke was quite right."
+
+"He is a great man," I said with enthusiasm; "tender as a woman and with
+the heart of a hero."
+
+"You and Bill and The Duke seem to agree about him," she said, smiling.
+
+Then I told her tales of The Pilot, and of his ways with the men, till
+her blue eyes grew bright and her beautiful face lost its proud look.
+
+"It is perfectly amazing," I said, finishing my story, "how these
+devil-may-care rough fellows respect him, and come to him in all sorts
+of trouble. I can't understand it, and yet he is just a boy."
+
+"No, not amazing," said Lady Charlotte slowly. "I think I understand it.
+He has a true man's heart; and holds a great purpose in it. I've seen
+men like that. Not clergymen, I mean, but men with a great purpose."
+
+Then, after a moment's thought, she added: "But you ought to care for
+him better. He does not look strong."
+
+"Strong!" I exclaimed quickly, with a queer feeling of resentment at my
+heart. "He can do as much riding as any of us."
+
+"Still," she replied, "there's something in his face that would make his
+mother anxious." In spite of my repudiation of her suggestion, I found
+myself for the next few minutes thinking of how he would come exhausted
+and faint from his long rides, and I resolved that he must have a rest
+and change.
+
+It was one of those early September days, the best of all in the western
+country, when the light falls less fiercely through a soft haze that
+seems to fill the air about you, and that grows into purple on the far
+hilltops. By the time we reached the canyon the sun was riding high and
+pouring its rays full into all the deep nooks where the shadows mostly
+lay.
+
+There were no shadows to-day, except such as the trees cast upon the
+green moss beds and the black rocks. The tops of the tall elms were sere
+and rusty, but the leaves of the rugged oaks that fringed the canyon's
+lips shone a rich and glossy brown. All down the sides the poplars and
+delicate birches, pale yellow, but sometimes flushing into orange and
+red, stood shimmering in the golden light, while here and there the
+broad-spreading, feathery sumachs made great splashes of brilliant
+crimson upon the yellow and gold. Down in the bottom stood the cedars
+and the balsams, still green. We stood some moments silently gazing into
+this tangle of interlacing boughs and shimmering leaves, all glowing in
+yellow light, then Lady Charlotte broke the silence in tones soft and
+reverent as if she stood in a great cathedral.
+
+"And this is Gwen's canyon!"
+
+"Yes, but she never sees it now," I said, for I could never ride through
+without thinking of the child to whose heart this was so dear, but whose
+eyes never rested upon it. Lady Charlotte made no reply, and we took the
+trail that wound down into this maze of mingling colors and lights
+and shadows. Everywhere lay the fallen leaves, brown and yellow and
+gold;--everywhere on our trail, on the green mosses and among the
+dead ferns. And as we rode, leaves fluttered down from the trees above
+silently through the tangled boughs, and lay with the others on moss and
+rock and beaten trail.
+
+The flowers were all gone; but the Little Swan sang as ever its
+many-voiced song, as it flowed in pools and eddies and cascades, with
+here and there a golden leaf upon its black waters. Ah! how often in
+weary, dusty days these sights and sounds and silences have come to me
+and brought my heart rest!
+
+As we began to climb up into the open, I glanced at my companion's face.
+The canyon had done its work with her as with all who loved it. The
+touch of pride that was the habit of her face was gone, and in its place
+rested the earnest wonder of a little child, while in her eyes lay the
+canyon's tender glow. And with this face she looked in upon Gwen.
+
+And Gwen, who had been waiting for her, forgot all her nervous fear, and
+with hands outstretched, cried out in welcome:
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! You've seen it and I know you love it! My canyon, you
+know!" she went on, answering Lady Charlotte's mystified look.
+
+"Yes, dear child," said Lady Charlotte, bending over the pale face with
+its halo of golden hair, "I love it." But she could get no further,
+for her eyes were full of tears. Gwen gazed up into the beautiful face,
+wondering at her silence, and then said gently:
+
+"Tell me how it looks to-day! The Pilot always shows it to me. Do you
+know," she added, thoughtfully, "The Pilot looks like it himself. He
+makes me think of it, and--and--" she went on shyly, "you do, too."
+
+By this time Lady Charlotte was kneeling by the couch, smoothing the
+beautiful hair and gently touching the face so pale and lined with pain.
+
+"That is a great honor, truly," she said brightly through her tears--"to
+be like your canyon and like your Pilot, too."
+
+Gwen nodded, but she was not to be denied.
+
+"Tell me how it looks to-day," she said. "I want to see it. Oh, I want
+to see it!"
+
+Lady Charlotte was greatly moved by the yearning in the voice, but,
+controlling herself, she said gaily:
+
+"Oh, I can't show it to you as your Pilot can, but I'll tell you what I
+saw."
+
+"Turn me where I can see," said Gwen to me, and I wheeled her toward the
+window and raised her up so that she could look down the trail toward
+the canyon's mouth.
+
+"Now," she said, after the pain of the lifting had passed, "tell me,
+please."
+
+Then Lady Charlotte set the canyon before her in rich and radiant
+coloring, while Gwen listened, gazing down upon the trail to where the
+elm tops could be seen, rusty and sere.
+
+"Oh, it is lovely!" said Gwen, "and I see it so well. It is all there
+before me when I look through my window."
+
+But Lady Charlotte looked at her, wondering to see her bright smile, and
+at last she could not help the question:
+
+"But don't you weary to see it with your own eyes?"
+
+"Yes," said Gwen gently, "often I want and want it, oh, so much!"
+
+"And then, Gwen, dear, how can you bear it?" Her voice was eager and
+earnest. "Tell me, Gwen. I have heard all about your canyon flowers, but
+I can't understand how the fretting and the pain went away."
+
+Gwen looked at her first in amazement, and then in dawning
+understanding.
+
+"Have you a canyon, too?" she asked, gravely.
+
+Lady Charlotte paused a moment, then nodded. It did appear strange to me
+that she should break down her proud reserve and open her heart to this
+child.
+
+"And there are no flowers, Gwen, not one," she said rather bitterly,
+"nor sun nor seeds nor soil, I fear."
+
+"Oh, if The Pilot were here, he would tell you."
+
+At this point, feeling that they would rather be alone, I excused myself
+on the pretext of looking after the horses.
+
+What they talked of during the next hour I never knew, but when
+I returned to the room Lady Charlotte was reading slowly and with
+perplexed face to Gwen out of her mother's Bible the words "for the
+suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor."
+
+"You see even for Him, suffering," Gwen said eagerly, "but I can't
+explain. The Pilot will make it clear." Then the talk ended.
+
+We had lunch with Gwen--bannocks and fresh sweet milk and
+blueberries--and after an hour of gay fun we came away.
+
+Lady Charlotte kissed her tenderly as she bade Gwen good-by.
+
+"You must let me come again and sit at your window," she said, smiling
+down upon the wan face.
+
+"Oh, I shall watch for you. How good that will be!" cried Gwen,
+delightedly. "How many come to see me! You make five." Then she added,
+softly: "You will write your letter." But Lady Charlotte shook her head.
+
+"I can't do that, I fear," she said, "but I shall think of it."
+
+It was a bright face that looked out upon us through the open window as
+we rode down the trail. Just before we took the dip into the canyon, I
+turned to wave my hand.
+
+"Gwen's friends always wave from here," I said, wheeling my bronco.
+
+Again and again Lady Charlotte waved her handkerchief.
+
+"How beautiful, but how wonderful!" she said as if to herself. "Truly,
+HER canyon is full of flowers."
+
+"It is quite beyond me," I answered. "The Pilot may explain."
+
+"Is there anything your Pilot can't do?" said Lady Charlotte.
+
+"Try him," I ventured.
+
+"I mean to," she replied, "but I cannot bring anyone to my canyon, I
+fear," she added in an uncertain voice.
+
+As I left her at her door she thanked me with courteous grace.
+
+"You have done a great deal for me," she said, giving me her hand. "It
+has been a beautiful, a wonderful day."
+
+When I told the Pilot all the day's doings, he burst out:
+
+"What a stupid and self-righteous fool I have been! I never thought
+there could be any canyon in her life. How short our sight is!" and all
+that night I could get almost no words from him.
+
+That was the first of many visits to Gwen. Not a week passed but Lady
+Charlotte took the trail to the Meredith ranch and spent an hour at
+Gwen's window. Often The Pilot found her there. But though they were
+always pleasant hours to him, he would come home in great trouble about
+Lady Charlotte.
+
+"She is perfectly charming and doing Gwen no end of good, but she is
+proud as an archangel. Has had an awful break with her family at home,
+and it is spoiling her life. She told me so much, but she will allow no
+one to touch the affair."
+
+But one day we met her riding toward the village. As we drew near, she
+drew up her horse and held up a letter.
+
+"Home!" she said. "I wrote it to-day, and I must get it off
+immediately."
+
+The Pilot understood her at once, but he only said:
+
+"Good!" but with such emphasis that we both laughed.
+
+"Yes, I hope so," she said with the red beginning to show in her cheek.
+"I have dropped some seed into my canyon."
+
+"I think I see the flowers beginning to spring," said The Pilot.
+
+She shook her head doubtfully and replied:
+
+"I shall ride up and sit with Gwen at her window."
+
+"Do," replied The Pilot, "the light is good there. Wonderful things are
+to be seen through Gwen's window."
+
+"Yes," said Lady Charlotte softly. "Dear Gwen!--but I fear it is often
+made bright with tears."
+
+As she spoke she wheeled her horse and cantered off, for her own tears
+were not far away. I followed her in thought up the trail winding
+through the round-topped hills and down through the golden lights of the
+canyon and into Gwen's room. I could see the pale face, with its golden
+aureole, light up and glow, as they sat before the window while Lady
+Charlotte would tell her how Gwen's Canyon looked to-day and how in her
+own bleak canyon there was the sign of flowers.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+HOW BILL FAVORED "HOME-GROWN INDUSTRIES"
+
+
+The building of the Swan Creek Church made a sensation in the country,
+and all the more that Bronco Bill was in command.
+
+"When I put up money I stay with the game," he announced; and stay he
+did, to the great benefit of the work and to the delight of The Pilot,
+who was wearing his life out in trying to do several men's work. It was
+Bill that organized the gangs for hauling stone for the foundation and
+logs for the walls. It was Bill that assigned the various jobs to those
+volunteering service. To Robbie Muir and two stalwart Glengarry men from
+the Ottawa lumber region, who knew all about the broadaxe, he gave the
+hewing down of the logs that formed the walls. And when they had done,
+Bill declared they were "better 'an a sawmill." It was Bill, too, that
+did the financing, and his passage with Williams, the storekeeper from
+"the other side" who dealt in lumber and building material, was such as
+established forever Bill's reputation in finance.
+
+With The Pilot's plans in his hands he went to Williams, seizing a time
+when the store was full of men after their mail matter.
+
+"What do you think ov them plans?" he asked innocently.
+
+Williams was voluble with opinions and criticism and suggestions, all of
+which were gratefully, even humbly received.
+
+"Kind ov hard to figger out jest how much lumber 'll go into the shack,"
+said Bill; "ye see the logs makes a difference."
+
+To Williams the thing was simplicity itself, and, after some figuring,
+he handed Bill a complete statement of the amount of lumber of all kinds
+that would be required.
+
+"Now, what would that there come to?"
+
+Williams named his figure, and then Bill entered upon negotiations.
+
+"I aint no man to beat down prices. No, sir, I say give a man his
+figger. Of course, this here aint my funeral; besides, bein' a Gospel
+shop, the price naterally would be different." To this the boys all
+assented and Williams looked uncomfortable.
+
+"In fact," and Bill adopted his public tone to Hi's admiration and joy,
+"this here's a public institooshun" (this was Williams' own thunder),
+"condoocin' to the good of the community" (Hi slapped his thigh and
+squirted half way across the store to signify his entire approval), "and
+I cherish the opinion"--(delighted chuckle from Hi)--"that public men
+are interested in this concern."
+
+"That's so! Right you are!" chorused the boys gravely.
+
+Williams agreed, but declared he had thought of all this in making his
+calculation. But seeing it was a church, and the first church and their
+own church, he would make a cut, which he did after more figuring. Bill
+gravely took the slip of paper and put it into his pocket without a
+word. By the end of the week, having in the meantime ridden into town
+and interviewed the dealers there, Bill sauntered into the store and
+took up his position remote from Williams.
+
+"You'll be wanting that sheeting, won't you, next week, Bill?" said
+Williams.
+
+"What sheetin' 's that?"
+
+"Why, for the church. Aint the logs up?"
+
+"Yes, that's so. I was just goin' to see the boys here about gettin' it
+hauled," said Bill.
+
+"Hauled!" said Williams, in amazed indignation. "Aint you goin' to stick
+to your deal?"
+
+"I generally make it my custom to stick to my deals," said Bill, looking
+straight at Williams.
+
+"Well, what about your deal with me last Monday night?" said Williams,
+angrily.
+
+"Let's see. Last Monday night," said Bill, apparently thinking back;
+"can't say as I remember any pertickler deal. Any ov you fellers
+remember?"
+
+No one could recall any deal.
+
+"You don't remember getting any paper from me, I suppose?" said
+Williams, sarcastically.
+
+"Paper! Why, I believe I've got that there paper onto my person at
+this present moment," said Bill, diving into his pocket and drawing out
+Williams' estimate. He spent a few moments in careful scrutiny.
+
+"There ain't no deal onto this as I can see," said Bill, gravely passing
+the paper to the boys, who each scrutinized it and passed it on with a
+shake of the head or a remark as to the absence of any sign of a deal.
+Williams changed his tone. For his part, he was indifferent in the
+matter.
+
+Then Bill made him an offer.
+
+"Ov course, I believe in supportin' home-grown industries, and if you
+can touch my figger I'd be uncommonly glad to give you the contract."
+
+But Bill's figure, which was quite fifty per cent. lower than Williams'
+best offer, was rejected as quite impossible.
+
+"Thought I'd make you the offer," said Bill, carelessly, "seein' as
+you're institootin' the trade and the boys here 'll all be buildin'
+more or less, and I believe in standin' up for local trades and
+manufactures." There were nods of approval on all sides, and Williams
+was forced to accept, for Bill began arranging with the Hill brothers
+and Hi to make an early start on Monday. It was a great triumph, but
+Bill displayed no sign of elation; he was rather full of sympathy
+for Williams, and eager to help on the lumber business as a local
+"institooshun."
+
+Second in command in the church building enterprise stood Lady
+Charlotte, and under her labored the Hon. Fred, The Duke, and, indeed,
+all the company of the Noble Seven. Her home became the centre of a new
+type of social life. With exquisite tact, and much was needed for this
+kind of work, she drew the bachelors from their lonely shacks and
+from their wild carousals, and gave them a taste of the joys of a pure
+home-life, the first they had had since leaving the old homes years ago.
+And then she made them work for the church with such zeal and diligence
+that her husband and The Duke declared that ranching had become quite an
+incidental interest since the church-building had begun. But The Pilot
+went about with a radiant look on his pale face, while Bill gave it
+forth as his opinion, "though she was a leetle high in the action, she
+could hit an uncommon gait."
+
+With such energy did Bill push the work of construction that by the
+first of December the church stood roofed, sheeted, floored and ready
+for windows, doors and ceiling, so that The Pilot began to hope that he
+should see the desire of his heart fulfilled--the church of Swan Creek
+open for divine service on Christmas Day.
+
+During these weeks there was more than church-building going on, for
+while the days were given to the shaping of logs, and the driving of
+nails and the planing of boards, the long winter evenings were spent in
+talk around the fire in my shack, where The Pilot for some months past
+had made his home and where Bill, since the beginning of the church
+building, had come "to camp." Those were great nights for The Pilot and
+Bill, and, indeed, for me, too, and the other boys, who, after a day's
+work on the church, were always brought in by Bill or The Pilot.
+
+Great nights for us all they were. After bacon and beans and bannocks,
+and occasionally potatoes, and rarely a pudding, with coffee, rich
+and steaming, to wash all down, pipes would follow, and then yarns of
+adventures, possible and impossible, all exciting and wonderful, and all
+received with the greatest credulity.
+
+If, however, the powers of belief were put to too great a strain by a
+tale of more than ordinary marvel, Bill would follow with one of such
+utter impossibility that the company would feel that the limit had been
+reached, and the yarns would cease. But after the first week most of the
+time was given to The Pilot, who would read to us of the deeds of the
+mighty men of old, who had made and wrecked empires.
+
+What happy nights they were to those cowboys, who had been cast up like
+driftwood upon this strange and lonely shore! Some of them had never
+known what it was to have a thought beyond the work and sport of the
+day. And the world into which The Pilot was ushering them was all new
+and wonderful to them. Happy nights, without a care, but that The Pilot
+would not get the ghastly look out of his face, and laughed at the idea
+of going away till the church was built. And, indeed, we would all have
+sorely missed him, and so he stayed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+HOW BILL HIT THE TRAIL
+
+
+When "the crowd" was with us The Pilot read us all sorts of tales of
+adventures in all lands by heroes of all ages, but when we three sat
+together by our fire The Pilot would always read us tales of the heroes
+of sacred story, and these delighted Bill more than those of any of
+the ancient empires of the past. He had his favorites. Abraham, Moses,
+Joshua, Gideon, never failed to arouse his admiration. But Jacob was to
+him always "a mean cuss," and David he could not appreciate. Most of
+all he admired Moses and the Apostle Paul, whom he called "that little
+chap." But, when the reading was about the One Great Man that moved
+majestic amid the gospel stories, Bill made no comments; He was too high
+for approval.
+
+By and by Bill began to tell these tales to the boys, and one night,
+when a quiet mood had fallen upon the company, Bill broke the silence.
+
+"Say, Pilot, where was it that the little chap got mixed up into that
+riot?"
+
+"Riot!" said The Pilot.
+
+"Yes; you remember when he stood off the whole gang from the stairs?"
+
+"Oh, yes, at Jerusalem!"
+
+"Yes, that's the spot. Perhaps you would read that to the boys. Good
+yarn! Little chap, you know, stood up and told 'em they were all sorts
+of blanked thieves and cut-throats, and stood 'em off. Played it alone,
+too."
+
+Most of the boys failed to recognize the story in its new dress. There
+was much interest.
+
+"Who was the duck? Who was the gang? What was the row about?"
+
+"The Pilot here'll tell you. If you'd kind o' give 'em a lead before you
+begin, they'd catch on to the yarn better." This last to The Pilot, who
+was preparing to read.
+
+"Well, it was at Jerusalem," began The Pilot, when Bill interrupted:
+
+"If I might remark, perhaps it might help the boys on to the trail
+mebbe, if you'd tell 'em how the little chap struck his new gait." So he
+designated the Apostle's conversion.
+
+Then The Pilot introduced the Apostle with some formality to the
+company, describing with such vivid touches his life and early training,
+his sudden wrench from all he held dear, under the stress of a new
+conviction, his magnificent enthusiasm and courage, his tenderness and
+patience, that I was surprised to find myself regarding him as a sort of
+hero, and the boys were all ready to back him against any odds. As The
+Pilot read the story of the Arrest at Jerusalem, stopping now and then
+to picture the scene, we saw it all and were in the thick of it. The
+raging crowd hustling and beating the life out of the brave little man,
+the sudden thrust of the disciplined Roman guard through the mass, the
+rescue, the pause on the stairway, the calm face of the little hero
+beckoning for a hearing, the quieting of the frantic, frothing mob, the
+fearless speech--all passed before us. The boys were thrilled.
+
+"Good stuff, eh?"
+
+"Ain't he a daisy?"
+
+"Daisy! He's a whole sunflower patch!"
+
+"Yes," drawled Bill, highly appreciating their marks of approval.
+"That's what I call a partickler fine character of a man. There ain't no
+manner of insecks on to him."
+
+"You bet!" said Hi.
+
+"I say," broke in one of the boys, who was just emerging from the
+tenderfoot stage, "o' course that's in the Bible, ain't it?"
+
+The Pilot assented.
+
+"Well, how do you know it's true?"
+
+The Pilot was proceeding to elaborate his argument when Bill cut in
+somewhat more abruptly than was his wont.
+
+"Look here, young feller!" Bill's voice was in the tone of command. The
+man looked as he was bid. "How do you know anything's true? How do you
+know The Pilot here's true when he speaks? Can't you tell by the feel?
+You know by the sound of his voice, don't you?" Bill paused and the
+young fellow agreed readily.
+
+"Well how do you know a blanked son of a she jackass when you see him?"
+Again Bill paused. There was no reply.
+
+"Well," said Bill, resuming his deliberate drawl. "I'll give you the
+information without extra charge. It's by the sound he makes when he
+opens his blanked jaw."
+
+"But," went on the young skeptic, nettled at the laugh that went round,
+"that don't prove anything. You know," turning to The Pilot, "that there
+are heaps of people who don't believe the Bible."
+
+The Pilot nodded.
+
+"Some of the smartest, best-educated men are agnostics," proceeded the
+young man, warming to his theme, and failing to notice the stiffening of
+Bill's lank figure. "I don't know but what I am one myself."
+
+"That so?" said Bill, with sudden interest.
+
+"I guess so," was the modest reply.
+
+"Got it bad?" went on Bill, with a note of anxiety in his tone.
+
+But the young man turned to The Pilot and tried to open a fresh
+argument.
+
+"Whatever he's got," said Bill to the others, in a mild voice, "it's
+spoilin' his manners."
+
+"Yes," went on Bill, meditatively, after the slight laugh had died,
+"it's ruinin' to the judgment. He don't seem to know when he interferes
+with the game. Pity, too."
+
+Still the argument went on.
+
+"Seems as if he ought to take somethin'," said Bill, in a voice
+suspiciously mild. "What would you suggest?"
+
+"A walk, mebbe!" said Hi, in delighted expectation.
+
+"I hold the opinion that you have mentioned an uncommonly vallable
+remedy, better'n Pain Killer almost."
+
+Bill rose languidly.
+
+"I say," he drawled, tapping the young fellow, "it appears to me a
+little walk would perhaps be good, mebbe."
+
+"All right, wait till I get my cap," was the unsuspecting reply.
+
+"I don't think perhaps you won't need it, mebbe. I cherish the opinion
+you'll, perhaps, be warm enough." Bill's voice had unconsciously passed
+into a sterner tone. Hi was on his feet and at the door.
+
+"This here interview is private AND confidential," said Bill to his
+partner.
+
+"Exactly," said Hi, opening the door. At this the young fellow, who was
+a strapping six-footer, but soft and flabby, drew back and refused to
+go. He was too late. Bill's grip was on his collar and out they went
+into the snow, and behind them Hi closed the door. In vain the young
+fellow struggled to wrench himself free from the hands that had him by
+the shoulder and the back of the neck. I took it all in from the window.
+He might have been a boy for all the effect his plungings had upon the
+long, sinewy arms that gripped him so fiercely. After a minute's furious
+struggle the young fellow stood quiet, when Bill suddenly shifted his
+grip from the shoulder to the seat of his buckskin trousers. Then began
+a series of evolutions before the house--up and down, forward and back,
+which the unfortunate victim, with hands wildly clutching at empty
+air, was quite powerless to resist till he was brought up panting and
+gasping, subdued, to a standstill.
+
+"I'll larn you agnostics and several other kinds of ticks," said Bill,
+in a terrible voice, his drawl lengthening perceptibly. "Come round
+here, will you, and shove your blanked second-handed trash down our
+throats?" Bill paused to get words; then, bursting out in rising wrath:
+
+"There ain't no sootable words for sich conduct. By the livin' Jeminy--"
+He suddenly swung his prisoner off his feet, lifted him bodily, and held
+him over his head at arm's length. "I've a notion to--"
+
+"Don't! don't! for Heaven's sake!" cried the struggling wretch, "I'll
+stop it! I will!"
+
+Bill at once lowered him and set him on his feet.
+
+"All right! Shake!" he said, holding out his hand, which the other took
+with caution.
+
+It was a remarkably sudden conversion and lasting in its effects. There
+was no more agnosticism in the little group that gathered around The
+Pilot for the nightly reading.
+
+The interest in the reading kept growing night by night.
+
+"Seems as if The Pilot was gittin' in his work," said Bill to me; and
+looking at the grave, eager faces, I agreed. He was getting in his work
+with Bill, too; though perhaps Bill did not know it. I remember one
+night, when the others had gone, The Pilot was reading to us the Parable
+of the Talents, Bill was particularly interested in the servant who
+failed in his duty.
+
+"Ornery cuss, eh?" he remarked; "and gall, too, eh? Served him blamed
+well right, in my opinion!"
+
+But when the practical bearing of the parable became clear to him, after
+long silence, he said, slowly:
+
+"Well, that there seems to indicate that it's about time for me to get
+a rustle on." Then, after another silence, he said, hesitatingly, "This
+here church-buildin' business now, do you think that'll perhaps count,
+mebbe? I guess not, eh? 'Tain't much, o' course, anyway." Poor Bill, he
+was like a child, and The Pilot handled him with a mother's touch.
+
+"What are you best at, Bill?"
+
+"Bronco-bustin' and cattle," said Bill, wonderingly; "that's my line."
+
+"Well, Bill, my line is preaching just now, and piloting, you know." The
+Pilot's smile was like a sunbeam on a rainy day, for there were tears in
+his eyes and voice. "And we have just got to be faithful. You see
+what he says: 'Well done, good and FAITHFUL servant. Thou hast been
+FAITHFUL.'"
+
+Bill was puzzled.
+
+"Faithful!" he repeated. "Does that mean with the cattle, perhaps?"
+
+"Yes, that's just it, Bill, and with everything else that comes your
+way."
+
+And Bill never forgot that lesson, for I heard him, with a kind of quiet
+enthusiasm, giving it to Hi as a great find. "Now, I call that a fair
+deal," he said to his friend; "gives every man a show. No cards up the
+sleeve."
+
+"That's so," was Hi's thoughtful reply; "distributes the trumps."
+
+Somehow Bill came to be regarded as an authority upon questions of
+religion and morals. No one ever accused him of "gettin' religion." He
+went about his work in his slow, quiet way, but he was always sharing
+his discoveries with "the boys." And if anyone puzzled him with
+subtleties he never rested till he had him face to face with The
+Pilot. And so it came that these two drew to each other with more than
+brotherly affection. When Bill got into difficulty with problems that
+have vexed the souls of men far wiser than he, The Pilot would either
+disentangle the knots or would turn his mind to the verities that stood
+out sure and clear, and Bill would be content.
+
+"That's good enough for me," he would say, and his heart would be at
+rest.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+HOW THE SWAN CREEK CHURCH WAS OPENED
+
+
+When, near the end of the year, The Pilot fell sick, Bill nursed him
+like a mother and sent him off for a rest and change to Gwen, forbidding
+him to return till the church was finished and visiting him twice a
+week. The love between the two was most beautiful, and, when I find my
+heart grow hard and unbelieving in men and things, I let my mind wander
+back to a scene that I came upon in front of Gwen's house. These two
+were standing alone in the clear moonlight, Bill with his hand upon The
+Pilot's shoulder, and The Pilot with his arm around Bill's neck.
+
+"Dear old Bill," The Pilot was saying, "dear old Bill," and the voice
+was breaking into a sob. And Bill, standing stiff and straight, looked
+up at the stars, coughed and swallowed hard for some moments, and said,
+in a queer, croaky voice:
+
+"Shouldn't wonder if a Chinook would blow up."
+
+"Chinook?" laughed The Pilot, with a catch in his voice. "You dear old
+humbug," and he stood watching till the lank form swayed down into the
+canyon.
+
+The day of the church opening came, as all days, however long waited
+for, will come--a bright, beautiful Christmas Day. The air was still and
+full of frosty light, as if arrested by a voice of command, waiting the
+word to move. The hills lay under their dazzling coverlets, asleep. Back
+of all, the great peaks lifted majestic heads out of the dark forests
+and gazed with calm, steadfast faces upon the white, sunlit world.
+To-day, as the light filled up the cracks that wrinkled their hard
+faces, they seemed to smile, as if the Christmas joy had somehow moved
+something in their old, stony hearts.
+
+The people were all there--farmers, ranchers, cowboys, wives and
+children--all happy, all proud of their new church, and now all
+expectant, waiting for The Pilot and the Old Timer, who were to drive
+down if The Pilot was fit and were to bring Gwen if the day was fine. As
+the time passed on, Bill, as master of ceremonies, began to grow uneasy.
+Then Indian Joe appeared and handed a note to Bill. He read it, grew
+gray in the face and passed it to me. Looking, I saw in poor, wavering
+lines the words, "Dear Bill. Go on with the opening. Sing the Psalm,
+you know the one, and say a prayer, and oh, come to me quick, Bill. Your
+Pilot."
+
+Bill gradually pulled himself together, announced in a strange voice,
+"The Pilot can't come," handed me the Psalm, and said:
+
+"Make them sing."
+
+It was that grand Psalm for all hill peoples, "I to the hills will lift
+mine eyes," and with wondering faces they sang the strong, steadying
+words. After the Psalm was over the people sat and waited, Bill looked
+at the Hon. Fred Ashley, then at Robbie Muir, then said to me in a low
+voice:
+
+"Kin you make a prayer?"
+
+I shook my head, ashamed as I did so of my cowardice.
+
+Again Bill paused, then said:
+
+"The Pilot says there's got to be a prayer. Kin anyone make one?"
+
+Again dead, solemn silence.
+
+Then Hi, who was near the back, said, coming to his partner's help:
+
+"What's the matter with you trying, yourself, Bill?"
+
+The red began to come up in Bill's white face.
+
+"'Taint in my line. But The Pilot says there's got to be a prayer, and
+I'm going to stay with the game." Then, leaning on the pulpit, he said:
+
+"Let's pray," and began:
+
+"God Almighty, I ain't no good at this, and perhaps you'll understand if
+I don't put things right." Then a pause followed, during which I heard
+some of the women beginning to sob.
+
+"What I want to say," Bill went on, "is, we're mighty glad about this
+church, which we know it's you and The Pilot that's worked it. And we're
+all glad to chip in."
+
+Then again he paused, and, looking up, I saw his hard, gray face working
+and two tears stealing down his cheeks. Then he started again:
+
+"But about The Pilot--I don't want to persoom--but if you don't mind,
+we'd like to have him stay--in fact, don't see how we kin do without
+him--look at all the boys here; he's just getting his work in and is
+bringin' 'em right along, and, God Almighty, if you take him away it
+might be a good thing for himself, but for us--oh, God," the voice
+quivered and was silent "Amen."
+
+Then someone, I think it must have been the Lady Charlotte, began: "Our
+Father," and all joined that could join, to the end. For a few moments
+Bill stood up, looking at them silently. Then, as if remembering his
+duty, he said:
+
+"This here church is open. Excuse me."
+
+He stood at the door, gave a word of direction to Hi, who had followed
+him out, and leaping on his bronco shook him out into a hard gallop.
+
+The Swan Creek Church was opened. The form of service may not have been
+correct, but, if great love counts for anything and appealing faith,
+then all that was necessary was done.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE PILOT'S LAST PORT
+
+
+In the old times a funeral was regarded in the Swan Creek country as a
+kind of solemn festivity. In those days, for the most part, men died in
+their boots and were planted with much honor and loyal libation. There
+was often neither shroud nor coffin, and in the Far West many a poor
+fellow lies as he fell, wrapped in his own or his comrade's blanket.
+
+It was the manager of the X L Company's ranch that introduced crape.
+The occasion was the funeral of one of the ranch cowboys, killed by his
+bronco, but when the pall-bearers and mourners appeared with bands and
+streamers of crape, this was voted by the majority as "too gay." That
+circumstance alone was sufficient to render that funeral famous, but it
+was remembered, too, as having shocked the proprieties in another and
+more serious manner. No one would be so narrow-minded as to object to
+the custom of the return procession falling into a series of horse-races
+of the wildest description, and ending up at Latour's in a general
+riot. But to race with the corpse was considered bad form. The
+"corpse-driver," as he was called, could hardly be blamed on this
+occasion. His acknowledged place was at the head of the procession, and
+it was a point of honor that that place should be retained. The fault
+clearly lay with the driver of the X L ranch sleigh, containing the
+mourners (an innovation, by the way), who felt aggrieved that Hi Kendal,
+driving the Ashley team with the pall-bearers (another innovation),
+should be given the place of honor next the corpse. The X L driver
+wanted to know what, in the name of all that was black and blue, the
+Ashley Ranch had to do with the funeral? Whose was that corpse, anyway?
+Didn't it belong to the X L ranch? Hi, on the other hand, contended that
+the corpse was in charge of the pall-bearers. "It was their duty to see
+it right to the grave, and if they were not on hand, how was it goin' to
+get there? They didn't expect it would git up and get there by itself,
+did they? Hi didn't want no blanked mourners foolin' round that corp
+till it was properly planted; after that they might git in their
+work." But the X L driver could not accept this view, and at the first
+opportunity slipped past Hi and his pall-bearers and took the place next
+the sleigh that carried the coffin. It is possible that Hi might have
+borne with this affront and loss of position with even mind, but the
+jeering remarks of the mourners as they slid past triumphantly could not
+be endured, and the next moment the three teams were abreast in a race
+as for dear life. The corpse-driver, having the advantage of the beaten
+track, soon left the other two behind running neck and neck for second
+place, which was captured finally by Hi and maintained to the grave
+side, in spite of many attempts on the part of the X L's. The whole
+proceeding, however, was considered quite improper, and at Latour's,
+that night, after full and bibulous discussion, it was agreed that the
+corpse-driver fairly distributed the blame. "For his part," he said, "he
+knew he hadn't ought to make no corp git any such move on, but he wasn't
+goin' to see that there corp take second place at his own funeral.
+Not if he could help it. And as for the others, he thought that the
+pall-bearers had a blanked sight more to do with the plantin' than them
+giddy mourners."
+
+But when they gathered at the Meredith ranch to carry out The Pilot
+to his grave it was felt that the Foothill Country was called to a new
+experience. They were all there. The men from the Porcupine and from
+beyond the Fort, the Police with the Inspector in command, all the
+farmers for twenty miles around, and of course all the ranchers and
+cowboys of the Swan Creek country. There was no effort at repression.
+There was no need, for in the cowboys, for the first time in their
+experience, there was no heart for fun. And as they rode up and hitched
+their horses to the fence, or drove their sleighs into the yard and
+took off the bells, there was no loud-voiced salutation, no guying nor
+chaffing, but with silent nod they took their places in the crowd about
+the door or passed into the kitchen.
+
+The men from the Porcupine could not quite understand the gloomy
+silence. It was something unprecedented in a country where men laughed
+all care to scorn and saluted death with a nod. But they were quick to
+read signs, and with characteristic courtesy they fell in with the mood
+they could not understand. There is no man living so quick to feel your
+mood, and so ready to adapt himself to it, as is the true Westerner.
+
+This was the day of the cowboy's grief. To the rest of the community
+The Pilot was preacher; to them he was comrade and friend. They had been
+slow to admit him to their confidence, but steadily he had won his place
+with them, till within the last few months they had come to count him as
+of themselves. He had ridden the range with them; he had slept in their
+shacks and cooked his meals on their tin stoves; and, besides, he was
+Bill's chum. That alone was enough to give him a right to all they
+owned. He was theirs, and they were only beginning to take full pride in
+him when he passed out from them, leaving an emptiness in their life new
+and unexplained. No man in that country had ever shown concern for them,
+nor had it occurred to them that any man could, till The Pilot came.
+It took them long to believe that the interest he showed in them was
+genuine and not simply professional. Then, too, from a preacher they
+had expected chiefly pity, warning, rebuke. The Pilot astonished them
+by giving them respect, admiration, and open-hearted affection. It was
+months before they could get over their suspicion that he was humbugging
+them. When once they did, they gave him back without knowing it all the
+trust and love of their big, generous hearts. He had made this world new
+to some of them, and to all had given glimpses of the next. It was no
+wonder that they stood in dumb groups about the house where the man, who
+had done all this for them and had been all this to them lay dead.
+
+There was no demonstration of grief. The Duke was in command, and his
+quiet, firm voice, giving directions, helped all to self-control. The
+women who were gathered in the middle room were weeping quietly. Bill
+was nowhere to be seen, but near the inner door sat Gwen in her chair,
+with Lady Charlotte beside her, holding her hand. Her face, worn with
+long suffering, was pale, but serene as the morning sky, and with not a
+trace of tears. As my eye caught hers, she beckoned me to her.
+
+"Where's Bill?" she said. "Bring him in."
+
+I found him at the back of the house.
+
+"Aren't you coming in, Bill?" I said.
+
+"No; I guess there's plenty without me," he said, in his slow way.
+
+"You'd better come in; the service is going to begin," I urged.
+
+"Don't seem as if I cared for to hear anythin' much. I ain't much used
+to preachin', anyway," said Bill, with careful indifference, but he
+added to himself, "except his, of course."
+
+"Come in, Bill," I urged. "It will look queer, you know," but Bill
+replied:
+
+"I guess I'll not bother," adding, after a pause: "You see, there's them
+wimmin turnin' on the waterworks, and like as not they'd swamp me sure."
+
+"That's so," said Hi, who was standing near, in silent sympathy with his
+friend's grief.
+
+I reported to Gwen, who answered in her old imperious way, "Tell him I
+want him." I took Bill the message.
+
+"Why didn't you say so before?" he said, and, starting up, he passed
+into the house and took up his position behind Gwen's chair. Opposite,
+and leaning against the door, stood The Duke, with a look of quiet
+earnestness on his handsome face. At his side stood the Hon.
+Fred Ashley, and behind him the Old Timer, looking bewildered and
+woe-stricken. The Pilot had filled a large place in the old man's life.
+The rest of the men stood about the room and filled the kitchen beyond,
+all quiet, solemn, sad.
+
+In Gwen's room, the one farthest in, lay The Pilot, stately and
+beautiful under the magic touch of death. And as I stood and looked down
+upon the quiet face I saw why Gwen shed no tear, but carried a look of
+serene triumph. She had read the face aright. The lines of weariness
+that had been growing so painfully clear the last few months were
+smoothed out, the look of care was gone, and in place of weariness and
+care, was the proud smile of victory and peace. He had met his foe and
+was surprised to find his terror gone.
+
+The service was beautiful in its simplicity. The minister, The Pilot's
+chief, had come out from town to take charge. He was rather a little
+man, but sturdy and well set. His face was burnt and seared with the
+suns and frosts he had braved for years. Still in the prime of his
+manhood, his hair and beard were grizzled and his face deep-lined, for
+the toils and cares of a pioneer missionary's life are neither few nor
+light. But out of his kindly blue eye looked the heart of a hero, and
+as he spoke to us we felt the prophet's touch and caught a gleam of the
+prophet's fire.
+
+"I have fought the fight," he read. The ring in his voice lifted up all
+our heads, and, as he pictured to us the life of that battered hero who
+had written these words, I saw Bill's eyes begin to gleam and his lank
+figure straighten out its lazy angles. Then he turned the leaves quickly
+and read again, "Let not your heart be troubled . . . in my father's
+house are many mansions." His voice took a lower, sweeter tone; he
+looked over our heads, and for a few moments spoke of the eternal hope.
+Then he came back to us, and, looking round into the faces turned so
+eagerly to him, talked to us of The Pilot--how at the first he had sent
+him to us with fear and trembling--he was so young--but how he had come
+to trust in him and to rejoice in his work, and to hope much from his
+life. Now it was all over; but he felt sure his young friend had not
+given his life in vain. He paused as he looked from one to the other,
+till his eyes rested on Gwen's face. I was startled, as I believe he
+was, too, at the smile that parted her lips, so evidently saying: "Yes,
+but how much better I know than you."
+
+"Yes," he went on, after a pause, answering her smile, "you all know
+better than I that his work among you will not pass away with his
+removal, but endure while you live," and the smile on Gwen's face grew
+brighter. "And now you must not grudge him his reward and his rest . . .
+and his home." And Bill, nodding his head slowly, said under his breath,
+"That's so."
+
+Then they sang that hymn of the dawning glory of Immanuel's land,--Lady
+Charlotte playing the organ and The Duke leading with clear, steady
+voice verse after verse. When they came to the last verse the minister
+made a sign and, while they waited, he read the words:
+
+
+     "I've wrestled on towards heaven
+      'Gainst storm, and wind, and tide."
+
+
+And so on to that last victorious cry,--
+
+
+     "I hail the glory dawning
+      In Immanuel's Land."
+
+
+For a moment it looked as if the singing could not go on, for tears
+were on the minister's face and the women were beginning to sob, but The
+Duke's clear, quiet voice caught up the song and steadied them all to
+the end.
+
+After the prayer they all went in and looked at The Pilot's face and
+passed out, leaving behind only those that knew him best. The Duke and
+the Hon. Fred stood looking down upon the quiet face.
+
+"The country has lost a good man, Duke," said the Hon. Fred. The Duke
+bowed silently. Then Lady Charlotte came and gazed a moment.
+
+"Dear Pilot," she whispered, her tears falling fast. "Dear, dear Pilot!
+Thank God for you! You have done much for me." Then she stooped and
+kissed him on his cold lips and on his forehead.
+
+Then Gwen seemed to suddenly waken as from a dream. She turned and,
+looking up in a frightened way, said to Bill hurriedly:
+
+"I want to see him again. Carry me!"
+
+And Bill gathered her up in his arms and took her in. As they looked
+down upon the dead face with its look of proud peace and touched with
+the stateliness of death, Gwen's fear passed away. But when The Duke
+made to cover the face, Gwen drew a sharp breath and, clinging to Bill,
+said, with a sudden gasp:
+
+"Oh, Bill, I can't bear it alone. I'm afraid alone."
+
+She was thinking of the long, weary days of pain before her that she
+must face now without The Pilot's touch and smile and voice.
+
+"Me, too," said Bill, thinking of the days before him. He could have
+said nothing better. Gwen looked in his face a moment, then said:
+
+"We'll help each other," and Bill, swallowing hard, could only nod his
+head in reply. Once more they looked upon The Pilot, leaning down and
+lingering over him, and then Gwen said quietly:
+
+"Take me away, Bill," and Bill carried her into the outer room. Turning
+back I caught a look on The Duke's face so full of grief that I could
+not help showing my amazement. He noticed and said:
+
+"The best man I ever knew, Connor. He has done something for me too.
+. . . I'd give the world to die like that."
+
+Then he covered the face.
+
+We sat Gwen's window, Bill, with Gwen in his arms, and I watching.
+Down the sloping, snow-covered hill wound the procession of sleighs and
+horsemen, without sound of voice or jingle of bell till, one by one,
+they passed out of our sight and dipped down into the canyon. But we
+knew every step of the winding trail and followed them in fancy through
+that fairy scene of mystic wonderland. We knew how the great elms and
+the poplars and the birches clinging to the snowy sides interlaced their
+bare boughs into a network of bewildering complexity, and how the cedars
+and balsams and spruces stood in the bottom, their dark boughs weighted
+down with heavy white mantles of snow, and how every stump and fallen
+log and rotting stick was made a thing of beauty by the snow that had
+fallen so gently on them in that quiet spot. And we could see the rocks
+of the canyon sides gleam out black from under overhanging snow-banks,
+and we could hear the song of the Swan in its many tones, now under
+an icy sheet, cooing comfortably, and then bursting out into sunlit
+laughter and leaping into a foaming pool, to glide away smoothly
+murmuring its delight to the white banks that curved to kiss the dark
+water as it fled. And where the flowers had been, the violets and the
+wind-flowers and the clematis and the columbine and all the ferns and
+flowering shrubs, there lay the snow. Everywhere the snow, pure, white,
+and myriad-gemmed, but every flake a flower's shroud.
+
+Out where the canyon opened to the sunny, sloping prairie, there they
+would lay The Pilot to sleep, within touch of the canyon he loved, with
+all its sleeping things. And there he lies to this time. But Spring has
+come many times to the canyon since that winter day, and has called to
+the sleeping flowers, summoning them forth in merry troops, and ever
+more and more till the canyon ripples with them. And lives are like
+flowers. In dying they abide not alone, but sow themselves and bloom
+again with each returning spring, and ever more and more.
+
+For often during the following years, as here and there I came upon one
+of those that companied with us in those Foothill days, I would catch a
+glimpse in word and deed and look of him we called, first in jest, but
+afterwards with true and tender feeling we were not ashamed to own, our
+Sky Pilot.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sky Pilot, by Ralph Connor
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Sky Pilot, by Ralph Connor
+#8 in our series by Ralph Connor
+
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+Title: The Sky Pilot
+Full Title:  Sky Pilot:  A Tale of the Foothills
+
+Author: Ralph Connor
+
+Release Date: May, 2002  [Etext #3248]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 03/01/01]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Sky Pilot, by Ralph Connor
+****This file should be named skypt10.txt or skypt10.zip*****
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, skypt11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, skypt10a.txt
+
+This etext was produced by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com.
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+This etext was produced by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SKY PILOT
+
+A TALE OF THE FOOTHILLS
+
+
+by Ralph Connor
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+The measure of a man's power to help his brother is the measure of
+the love in the heart of him and of the faith he has that at last
+the good will win.  With this love that seeks not its own and this
+faith that grips the heart of things, he goes out to meet many
+fortunes, but not that of defeat.
+
+This story is of the people of the Foothill Country; of those men
+of adventurous spirit, who left homes of comfort, often of luxury,
+because of the stirring in them to be and to do some worthy thing;
+and of those others who, outcast from their kind, sought to find in
+these valleys, remote and lonely, a spot where they could forget
+and be forgotten.
+
+The waving skyline of the Foothills was the boundary of their
+lookout upon life.  Here they dwelt safe from the scanning of the
+world, freed from all restraints of social law, denied the gentler
+influences of home and the sweet uplift of a good woman's face.
+What wonder if, with the new freedom beating in their hearts and
+ears, some rode fierce and hard the wild trail to the cut-bank of
+destruction!
+
+The story is, too, of how a man with vision beyond the waving
+skyline came to them with firm purpose to play the brother's part,
+and by sheer love of them and by faith in them, win them to believe
+that life is priceless, and that it is good to be a man.
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+I.  The Foothills Country
+
+II.  The Company of the Noble Seven
+
+III.  The Coming of the Pilot
+
+IV.  The Pilot's Measure
+
+V.  First Blood
+
+VI.  His Second Wind
+
+VII.  The Last of the Permit Sundays
+
+VIII.  The Pilot's Grip
+
+IX.  Gwen
+
+X.  Gwen's First Prayers
+
+XI.  Gwen's Challenge
+
+XII.  Gwen's Canyon
+
+XIII.  The Canyon Flowers
+
+XIV.  Bill's Bluff
+
+XV.  Bill's Partner
+
+XVI.  Bill's Financing
+
+XVII.  How the Pinto Sold
+
+XVIII.  The Lady Charlotte
+
+XIX.  Through Gwen's Window
+
+XX.  How Bill Favored "Home-Grown Industries"
+
+XXI.  How Bill Hit the Trail
+
+XXII.  How the Swan Creek Church was Opened
+
+XXIII.  The Pilot's Last Port
+
+
+
+
+THE SKY PILOT
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE FOOTHILLS COUNTRY
+
+
+Beyond the great prairies and in the shadow of the Rockies lie the
+Foothills.  For nine hundred miles the prairies spread themselves
+out in vast level reaches, and then begin to climb over softly
+rounded mounds that ever grow higher and sharper till, here and
+there, they break into jagged points and at last rest upon the
+great bases of the mighty mountains.  These rounded hills that join
+the prairies to the mountains form the Foothill Country.  They
+extend for about a hundred miles only, but no other hundred miles
+of the great West are so full of interest and romance.  The natural
+features of the country combine the beauties of prairie and of
+mountain scenery.  There are valleys so wide that the farther side
+melts into the horizon, and uplands so vast as to suggest the
+unbroken prairie.  Nearer the mountains the valleys dip deep and
+ever deeper till they narrow into canyons through which mountain
+torrents pour their blue-gray waters from glaciers that lie
+glistening between the white peaks far away.  Here are the great
+ranges on which feed herds of cattle and horses.  Here are the
+homes of the ranchmen, in whose wild, free, lonely existence there
+mingles much of the tragedy and comedy, the humor and pathos, that
+go to make up the romance of life.  Among them are to be found the
+most enterprising, the most daring, of the peoples of the old
+lands.  The broken, the outcast, the disappointed, these too have
+found their way to the ranches among the Foothills.  A country it
+is whose sunlit hills and shaded valleys reflect themselves in the
+lives of its people; for nowhere are the contrasts of light and
+shade more vividly seen than in the homes of the ranchmen of the
+Albertas.
+
+The experiences of my life have confirmed in me the orthodox
+conviction that Providence sends his rain upon the evil as upon the
+good; else I should never have set my eyes upon the Foothill
+country, nor touched its strangely fascinating life, nor come to
+know and love the most striking man of all that group of striking
+men of the Foothill country--the dear old Pilot, as we came to call
+him long afterwards.  My first year in college closed in gloom.  My
+guardian was in despair.  From this distance of years I pity him.
+Then I considered him unnecessarily concerned about me--"a fussy
+old hen," as one of the boys suggested.  The invitation from Jack
+Dale, a distant cousin, to spend a summer with him on his ranch in
+South Alberta came in the nick of time.  I was wild to go.  My
+guardian hesitated long; but no other solution of the problem of my
+disposal offering, he finally agreed that I could not well get into
+more trouble by going than by staying.  Hence it was that, in the
+early summer of one of the eighties, I found myself attached to a
+Hudson's Bay Company freight train, making our way from a little
+railway town in Montana towards the Canadian boundary.  Our train
+consisted of six wagons and fourteen yoke of oxen, with three
+cayuses, in charge of a French half-breed and his son, a lad of
+about sixteen.  We made slow enough progress, but every hour of the
+long day, from the dim, gray, misty light of dawn to the soft glow
+of shadowy evening, was full of new delights to me.  On the evening
+of the third day we reached the Line Stopping Place, where Jack
+Dale met us.  I remember well how my heart beat with admiration of
+the easy grace with which he sailed down upon us in the loose-
+jointed cowboy style, swinging his own bronco and the little cayuse
+he was leading for me into the circle of the wagons, careless of
+ropes and freight and other impedimenta.  He flung himself off
+before his bronco had come to a stop, and gave me a grip that made
+me sure of my welcome.  It was years since he had seen a man from
+home, and the eager joy in his eyes told of long days and nights of
+lonely yearning for the old days and the old faces.  I came to
+understand this better after my two years' stay among these hills
+that have a strange power on some days to waken in a man longings
+that make his heart grow sick.  When supper was over we gathered
+about the little fire, while Jack and the half-breed smoked and
+talked.  I lay on my back looking up at the pale, steady stars in
+the deep blue of the cloudless sky, and listened in fullness of
+contented delight to the chat between Jack and the driver.  Now and
+then I asked a question, but not too often.  It is a listening
+silence that draws tales from a western man, not vexing questions.
+This much I had learned already from my three days' travel.  So I
+lay and listened, and the tales of that night are mingled with the
+warm evening lights and the pale stars and the thoughts of home
+that Jack's coming seemed to bring.
+
+Next morning before sun-up we had broken camp and were ready for
+our fifty-mile ride.  There was a slight drizzle of rain and,
+though rain and shine were alike to him, Jack insisted that I
+should wear my mackintosh.  This garment was quite new and had a
+loose cape which rustled as I moved toward my cayuse.  He was an
+ugly-looking little animal, with more white in his eye than I cared
+to see.  Altogether, I did not draw toward him.  Nor did he to me,
+apparently.  For as I took him by the bridle he snorted and sidled
+about with great swiftness, and stood facing me with his feet
+planted firmly in front of him as if prepared to reject overtures
+of any kind soever.  I tried to approach him with soothing words,
+but he persistently backed away until we stood looking at each
+other at the utmost distance of his outstretched neck and my
+outstretched arm.  At this point Jack came to my assistance, got
+the pony by the other side of the bridle, and held him fast till I
+got into position to mount.  Taking a firm grip of the horn of the
+Mexican saddle, I threw my leg over his back.  The next instant I
+was flying over his head.  My only emotion was one of surprise, the
+thing was so unexpected.  I had fancied myself a fair rider, having
+had experience of farmers' colts of divers kinds, but this was
+something quite new.  The half-breed stood looking on, mildly
+interested; Jack was smiling, but the boy was grinning with
+delight.
+
+"I'll take the little beast," said Jack.  But the grinning boy
+braced me up and I replied as carelessly as my shaking voice would
+allow:
+
+"Oh, I guess I'll manage him," and once more got into position.
+But no sooner had I got into the saddle than the pony sprang
+straight up into the air and lit with his back curved into a bow,
+his four legs gathered together and so absolutely rigid that the
+shock made my teeth rattle.  It was my first experience of
+"bucking."  Then the little brute went seriously to work to get rid
+of the rustling, flapping thing on his back.  He would back
+steadily for some seconds, then, with two or three forward plunges,
+he would stop as if shot and spring straight into the upper air,
+lighting with back curved and legs rigid as iron.  Then he would
+walk on his hind legs for a few steps, then throw himself with
+amazing rapidity to one side and again proceed to buck with vicious
+diligence.
+
+"Stick to him!" yelled Jack, through his shouts of laughter.
+"You'll make him sick before long."
+
+I remember thinking that unless his insides were somewhat more
+delicately organized than his external appearance would lead one to
+suppose the chances were that the little brute would be the last to
+succumb to sickness.  To make matters worse, a wilder jump than
+ordinary threw my cape up over my head, so that I was in complete
+darkness.  And now he had me at his mercy, and he knew no pity.  He
+kicked and plunged and reared and bucked, now on his front legs,
+now on his hind legs, often on his knees, while I, in the darkness,
+could only cling to the horn of the saddle.  At last, in one of the
+gleams of light that penetrated the folds of my enveloping cape, I
+found that the horn had slipped to his side, so the next time he
+came to his knees I threw myself off.  I am anxious to make this
+point clear, for, from the expression of triumph on the face of the
+grinning boy, and his encomiums of the pony, I gathered that he
+scored a win for the cayuse.  Without pause that little brute
+continued for some seconds to buck and plunge even after my
+dismounting, as if he were some piece of mechanism that must run
+down before it could stop.
+
+By this time I was sick enough and badly shaken in my nerve, but
+the triumphant shouts and laughter of the boy and the complacent
+smiles on the faces of Jack and the half-breed stirred my wrath.  I
+tore off the cape and, having got the saddle put right, seized
+Jack's riding whip and, disregarding his remonstrances, sprang on
+my steed once more, and before he could make up his mind as to his
+line of action plied him so vigorously with the rawhide that he set
+off over the prairie at full gallop, and in a few minutes came
+round to the camp quite subdued, to the boy's great disappointment
+and to my own great surprise.  Jack was highly pleased, and even
+the stolid face of the half-breed showed satisfaction.
+
+"Don't think I put this up on you," Jack said.  "It was that cape.
+He ain't used to such frills.  But it was a circus," he added,
+going off into a fit of laughter, "worth five dollars any day."
+
+"You bet!" said the half-breed.  "Dat's make pretty beeg fun, eh?"
+
+It seemed to me that it depended somewhat upon the point of view,
+but I merely agreed with him, only too glad to be so well out of
+the fight.
+
+All day we followed the trail that wound along the shoulders of the
+round-topped hills or down their long slopes into the wide, grassy
+valleys.  Here and there the valleys were cut through by coulees
+through which ran swift, blue-gray rivers, clear and icy cold,
+while from the hilltops we caught glimpses of little lakes covered
+with wild-fowl that shrieked and squawked and splashed, careless of
+danger.  Now and then we saw what made a black spot against the
+green of the prairie, and Jack told me it was a rancher's shack.
+How remote from the great world, and how lonely it seemed!--this
+little black shack among these multitudinous hills.
+
+I shall never forget the summer evening when Jack and I rode into
+Swan Creek.  I say into--but the village was almost entirely one of
+imagination, in that it consisted of the Stopping Place, a long log
+building, a story and a half high, with stables behind, and the
+store in which the post-office was kept and over which the owner
+dwelt.  But the situation was one of great beauty.  On one side the
+prairie rambled down from the hills and then stretched away in
+tawny levels into the misty purple at the horizon; on the other it
+clambered over the round, sunny tops to the dim blue of the
+mountains beyond.
+
+In this world, where it is impossible to reach absolute values, we
+are forced to hold things relatively, and in contrast with the
+long, lonely miles of our ride during the day these two houses,
+with their outbuildings, seemed a center of life.  Some horses were
+tied to the rail that ran along in front of the Stopping Place.
+
+"Hello!" said Jack, "I guess the Noble Seven are in town."
+
+"And who are they?" I asked.
+
+"Oh," he replied, with a shrug, "they are the elite Of Swan Creek;
+and by Jove," he added, "this must be a Permit Night."
+
+"What does that mean?" I asked, as we rode up towards the tie rail.
+
+"Well," said Jack, in a low tone, for some men were standing about
+the door, "you see, this is a prohibition country, but when one of
+the boys feels as if he were going to have a spell of sickness he
+gets a permit to bring in a few gallons for medicinal purposes; and
+of course, the other boys being similarly exposed, he invites them
+to assist him in taking preventive measures.  And," added Jack,
+with a solemn wink, "it is remarkable, in a healthy country like
+this, how many epidemics come near ketching us."
+
+And with this mystifying explanation we joined the mysterious
+company of the Noble Seven.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE COMPANY OF THE NOBLE SEVEN
+
+
+As we were dismounting, the cries, "Hello, Jack!"  "How do, Dale?"
+"Hello, old Smoke!" in the heartiest of tones, made me see that my
+cousin was a favorite with the men grouped about the door.  Jack
+simply nodded in reply and then presented me in due form.  "My
+tenderfoot cousin from the effete," he said, with a flourish.  I
+was surprised at the grace of the bows made me by these roughly-
+dressed, wild-looking fellows.  I might have been in a London
+drawing-room.  I was put at my ease at once by the kindliness of
+their greeting, for, upon Jack's introduction, I was admitted at
+once into their circle, which, to a tenderfoot, was usually closed.
+
+What a hardy-looking lot they were!  Brown, spare, sinewy and hard
+as nails, they appeared like soldiers back from a hard campaign.
+They moved and spoke with an easy, careless air of almost lazy
+indifference, but their eyes had a trick of looking straight out at
+you, cool and fearless, and you felt they were fit and ready.
+
+That night I was initiated into the Company of the Noble Seven--but
+of the ceremony I regret to say I retain but an indistinct memory;
+for they drank as they rode, hard and long, and it was only Jack's
+care that got me safely home that night.
+
+The Company of the Noble Seven was the dominant social force in the
+Swan Creek country.  Indeed, it was the only social force Swan
+Creek knew.  Originally consisting of seven young fellows of the
+best blood of Britain, "banded together for purposes of mutual
+improvement and social enjoyment," it had changed its character
+during the years, but not its name.  First, its membership was
+extended to include "approved colonials," such as Jack Dale and
+"others of kindred spirit," under which head, I suppose, the two
+cowboys from the Ashley Ranch, Hi Keadal and "Bronco" Bill--no one
+knew and no one asked his other name--were admitted.  Then its
+purposes gradually limited themselves to those of a social nature,
+chiefly in the line of poker-playing and whisky-drinking.  Well
+born and delicately bred in that atmosphere of culture mingled with
+a sturdy common sense and a certain high chivalry which surrounds
+the stately homes of Britain, these young lads, freed from the
+restraints of custom and surrounding, soon shed all that was
+superficial in their make-up and stood forth in the naked
+simplicity of their native manhood.  The West discovered and
+revealed the man in them, sometimes to their honor, often to their
+shame.  The Chief of the Company was the Hon. Fred Ashley, of the
+Ashley Ranch, sometime of Ashley Court, England--a big, good-
+natured man with a magnificent physique, a good income from home,
+and a beautiful wife, the Lady Charlotte, daughter of a noble
+English family.  At the Ashley Ranch the traditions of Ashley Court
+were preserved as far as possible.  The Hon. Fred appeared at the
+wolf-hunts in riding-breeches and top boots, with hunting crop and
+English saddle, while in all the appointments of the house the
+customs of the English home were observed.  It was characteristic,
+however, of western life that his two cowboys, Hi Kendal and Bronco
+Bill, felt themselves quite his social equals, though in the
+presence of his beautiful, stately wife they confessed that they
+"rather weakened."  Ashley was a thoroughly good fellow, well up to
+his work as a cattle-man, and too much of a gentleman to feel, much
+less assert, any superiority of station.  He had the largest ranch
+in the country and was one of the few men making money.
+
+Ashley's chief friend, or, at least, most frequent companion, was a
+man whom they called "The Duke."  No one knew his name, but every
+one said he was "the son of a lord," and certainly from his style
+and bearing he might be the son of almost anything that was high
+enough in rank.  He drew "a remittance," but, as that was paid
+through Ashley, no one knew whence it came nor how much it was.  He
+was a perfect picture of a man, and in all western virtues was
+easily first.  He could rope a steer, bunch cattle, play poker or
+drink whisky to the admiration of his friends and the confusion of
+his foes, of whom he had a few; while as to "bronco busting," the
+virtue par excellence of western cattle-men, even Bronco Bill was
+heard to acknowledge that "he wasn't in it with the Dook, for it
+was his opinion that he could ride anythin' that had legs in under
+it, even if it was a blanked centipede."  And this, coming from one
+who made a profession of "bronco busting," was unquestionably high
+praise.  The Duke lived alone, except when he deigned to pay a
+visit to some lonely rancher who, for the marvellous charm of his
+talk, was delighted to have him as guest, even at the expense of
+the loss of a few games at poker.  He made a friend of no one,
+though some men could tell of times when he stood between them and
+their last dollar, exacting only the promise that no mention should
+be made of his deed.  He had an easy, lazy manner and a slow
+cynical smile that rarely left his face, and the only sign of
+deepening passion in him was a little broadening of his smile.  Old
+Latour, who kept the Stopping Place, told me how once The Duke had
+broken into a gentle laugh.  A French half-breed freighter on his
+way north had entered into a game of poker with The Duke, with the
+result that his six months' pay stood in a little heap at his
+enemy's left hand.  The enraged freighter accused his smiling
+opponent of being a cheat, and was proceeding to demolish him with
+one mighty blow.  But The Duke, still smiling, and without moving
+from his chair, caught the descending fist, slowly crushed the
+fingers open, and steadily drew the Frenchman to his knees,
+gripping him so cruelly in the meantime that he was forced to cry
+aloud in agony for mercy.  Then it was that The Duke broke into a
+light laugh and, touching the kneeling Frenchman on his cheek with
+his finger-tips, said:  "Look here, my man, you shouldn't play the
+game till you know how to do it and with whom you play."  Then,
+handing him back the money, he added:  "I want money, but not
+yours."  Then, as he sat looking at the unfortunate wretch dividing
+his attention between his money and his bleeding fingers, he once
+more broke into a gentle laugh that was not good to hear.
+
+The Duke was by all odds the most striking figure in the Company of
+the Noble Seven, and his word went farther than that of any other.
+His shadow was Bruce, an Edinburgh University man, metaphysical,
+argumentative, persistent, devoted to The Duke.  Indeed, his chief
+ambition was to attain to The Duke's high and lordly manner; but,
+inasmuch as he was rather squat in figure and had an open, good-
+natured face and a Scotch voice of the hard and rasping kind, his
+attempts at imitation were not conspicuously successful.  Every
+mail that reached Swan Creek brought him a letter from home.  At
+first, after I had got to know him, he would give me now and then a
+letter to read, but as the tone became more and more anxious he
+ceased to let me read them, and I was glad enough of this.  How he
+could read those letters and go the pace of the Noble Seven I could
+not see.  Poor Bruce!  He had good impulses, a generous heart, but
+the "Permit" nights and the hunts and the "roundups" and the poker
+and all the wild excesses of the Company were more than he could
+stand.
+
+Then there were the two Hill brothers, the younger, Bertie, a fair-
+haired, bright-faced youngster, none too able to look after
+himself, but much inclined to follies of all degrees and sorts.
+But he was warm-hearted and devoted to his big brother, Humphrey,
+called "Hump," who had taken to ranching mainly with the idea of
+looking after his younger brother.  And no easy matter that was,
+for every one liked the lad and in consequence helped him down.
+
+In addition to these there were two others of the original seven,
+but by force of circumstances they were prevented from any more
+than a nominal connection with the Company.  Blake, a typical wild
+Irishman, had joined the police at the Fort, and Gifford had got
+married and, as Bill said, "was roped tighter'n a steer."
+
+The Noble Company, with the cowboys that helped on the range and
+two or three farmers that lived nearer the Fort, composed the
+settlers of the Swan Creek country.  A strange medley of people of
+all ranks and nations, but while among them there were the evil-
+hearted and evil-living, still, for the Noble Company I will say
+that never have I fallen in with men braver, truer, or of warmer
+heart.  Vices they had, all too apparent and deadly, but they were
+due rather to the circumstances of their lives than to the native
+tendencies of their hearts.  Throughout that summer and the winter
+following I lived among them, camping on the range with them and
+sleeping in their shacks, bunching cattle in summer and hunting
+wolves in winter, nor did I, for I was no wiser than they, refuse
+my part on "Permit" nights; but through all not a man of them ever
+failed to be true to his standard of honor in the duties of
+comradeship and brotherhood.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE COMING OF THE PILOT
+
+
+He was the first missionary ever seen in the country, and it was the
+Old Timer who named him.  The Old Timer's advent to the Foothill
+country was prehistoric, and his influence was, in consequence,
+immense.  No one ventured to disagree with him, for to disagree with
+the Old Timer was to write yourself down a tenderfoot, which no one,
+of course, cared to do.  It was a misfortune which only time could
+repair to be a new-comer, and it was every new-comer's aim to assume
+with all possible speed the style and customs of the aristocratic
+Old Timers, and to forget as soon as possible the date of his own
+arrival.  So it was as "The Sky Pilot," familiarly "The Pilot," that
+the missionary went for many a day in the Swan Creek country.
+
+I had become schoolmaster of Swan Creek.  For in the spring a kind
+Providence sent in the Muirs and the Bremans with housefuls of
+children, to the ranchers' disgust, for they foresaw ploughed
+fields and barbed-wire fences cramping their unlimited ranges.  A
+school became necessary.  A little log building was erected and I
+was appointed schoolmaster.  It was as schoolmaster that I first
+came to touch The Pilot, for the letter which the Hudson Bay
+freighters brought me early one summer evening bore the inscription:
+
+
+     The Schoolmaster,
+               Public School,
+                        Swan Creek,
+                                 Alberta.
+
+
+There was altogether a fine air about the letter; the writing was
+in fine, small hand, the tone was fine, and there was something
+fine in the signature--"Arthur Wellington Moore."  He was glad to
+know that there was a school and a teacher in Swan Creek, for a
+school meant children, in whom his soul delighted; and in the
+teacher he would find a friend, and without a friend he could not
+live.  He took me into his confidence, telling me that though he
+had volunteered for this far-away mission field he was not much of
+a preacher and he was not at all sure that he would succeed.  But
+he meant to try, and he was charmed at the prospect of having one
+sympathizer at least.  Would I be kind enough to put up in some
+conspicuous place the enclosed notice, filling in the blanks as I
+thought best?
+
+
+      "Divine service will be held at Swan creek
+       in ---- ----- at ---- o'clock.
+          All are cordially invited.
+                    Arthur Wellington Moore."
+
+
+On the whole I liked his letter.  I liked its modest self-
+depreciation and I liked its cool assumption of my sympathy and co-
+operation.  But I was perplexed.  I remembered that Sunday was the
+day fixed for the great baseball match, when those from "Home," as
+they fondly called the land across the sea from which they had
+come, were to "wipe the earth" with all comers.  Besides, "Divine
+service" was an innovation in Swan Creek and I felt sure that, like
+all innovations that suggested the approach of the East, it would
+be by no means welcome.
+
+However, immediately under the notice of the "Grand Baseball Match
+for 'The Pain Killer' a week from Sunday, at 2:30, Home vs. the
+World," I pinned on the door of the Stopping Place the
+announcement:
+
+
+"Divine service will be held at Swan Creek, in the Stopping Place
+Parlor, a week from Sunday, immediately upon the conclusion of the
+baseball match.
+              "Arthur Wellington Moore."
+
+
+There was a strange incongruity in the two, and an unconscious
+challenge as well.
+
+All next day, which was Saturday, and, indeed, during the following
+week, I stood guard over my notice, enjoying the excitement it
+produced and the comments it called forth.  It was the advance wave
+of the great ocean of civilization which many of them had been glad
+to leave behind--some could have wished forever.
+
+To Robert Muir, one of the farmers newly arrived, the notice was a
+harbinger of good.  It stood for progress, markets and a higher
+price for land; albeit he wondered "hoo he wad be keepit up."  But
+his hard-wrought, quick-spoken little wife at his elbow "hooted"
+his scruples and, thinking of her growing lads, welcomed with
+unmixed satisfaction the coming of "the meenister."  Her
+satisfaction was shared by all the mothers and most of the fathers
+in the settlement; but by the others, and especially by that
+rollicking, roistering crew, the Company of the Noble Seven, the
+missionary's coming was viewed with varying degrees of animosity.
+It meant a limitation of freedom in their wildly reckless living.
+The "Permit" nights would now, to say the least, be subject to
+criticism; the Sunday wolf-hunts and horse-races, with their
+attendant delights, would now be pursued under the eye of the
+Church, and this would not add to the enjoyment of them.  One great
+charm of the country, which Bruce, himself the son of an Edinburgh
+minister, and now Secretary of the Noble Seven, described as
+"letting a fellow do as he blanked pleased," would be gone.  None
+resented more bitterly than he the missionary's intrusion, which he
+declared to be an attempt "to reimpose upon their freedom the
+trammels of an antiquated and bigoted conventionality."  But the
+rest of the Company, while not taking so decided a stand, were
+agreed that the establishment of a church institution was an
+objectionable and impertinent as well as unnecessary proceeding.
+
+Of course, Hi Kendal and his friend Bronco Bill had no opinion one
+way or the other.  The Church could hardly affect them even
+remotely.  A dozen years' stay in Montana had proved with
+sufficient clearness to them that a church was a luxury of
+civilization the West might well do without.
+
+Outside the Company of the Noble Seven there was only one whose
+opinion had value in Swan Creek, and that was the Old Timer.  The
+Company had sought to bring him in by making him an honorary
+member, but he refused to be drawn from his home far up among the
+hills, where he lived with his little girl Gwen and her old half-
+breed nurse, Ponka.  The approach of the church he seemed to resent
+as a personal injury.  It represented to him that civilization from
+which he had fled fifteen years ago with his wife and baby girl,
+and when five years later he laid his wife in the lonely grave that
+could be seen on the shaded knoll just fronting his cabin door, the
+last link to his past was broken.  From all that suggested the
+great world beyond the run of the Prairie he shrank as one shrinks
+from a sudden touch upon an old wound.
+
+"I guess I'll have to move back," he said to me gloomily.
+
+"Why?" I said in surprise, thinking of his grazing range, which was
+ample for his herd.
+
+"This blank Sky Pilot."  He never swore except when unusually
+moved.
+
+"Sky Pilot?" I inquired.
+
+He nodded and silently pointed to the notice.
+
+"Oh, well, he won't hurt you, will he?"
+
+"Can't stand it," he answered savagely, "must get away."
+
+"What about Gwen?" I ventured, for she was the light of his eyes.
+"Pity to stop her studies."  I was giving her weekly lessons at the
+old man's ranch.
+
+"Dunno.  Ain't figgered out yet about that baby."  She was still
+his baby.  "Guess she's all she wants for the Foothills, anyway.
+What's the use?" he added, bitterly, talking to himself after the
+manner of men who live much alone.
+
+I waited for a moment, then said:  "Well, I wouldn't hurry about
+doing anything," knowing well that the one thing an old-timer hates
+to do is to make any change in his mode of life.  "Maybe he won't
+stay."
+
+He caught at this eagerly.  "That's so!  There ain't much to keep
+him, anyway," and he rode off to his lonely ranch far up in the
+hills.
+
+I looked after the swaying figure and tried to picture his past
+with its tragedy; then I found myself wondering how he would end
+and what would come to his little girl.  And I made up my mind that
+if the missionary were the right sort his coming might not be a bad
+thing for the Old Timer and perhaps for more than him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE PILOT'S MEASURE
+
+
+It was Hi Kendal that announced the arrival of the missionary.  I
+was standing at the door of my school, watching the children ride
+off home on their ponies, when Hi came loping along on his bronco
+in the loose-jointed cowboy style.
+
+"Well," he drawled out, bringing his bronco to a dead stop in a
+single bound, "he's lit."
+
+"Lit?  Where?  What?" said I, looking round for an eagle or some
+other flying thing.
+
+"Your blanked Sky Pilot, and he's a beauty, a pretty kid--looks too
+tender for this climate.  Better not let him out on the range."  Hi
+was quite disgusted, evidently.
+
+"What's the matter with him, Hi?"
+
+"Why, HE ain't no parson!  I don't go much on parsons, but when I
+calls for one I don't want no bantam chicken.  No, sirree, horse!
+I don't want no blankety-blank, pink-and-white complected nursery
+kid foolin' round my graveyard.  If you're goin' to bring along a
+parson, why bring him with his eye-teeth cut and his tail feathers
+on."
+
+That Hi was deeply disappointed was quite clear from the selection
+of the profanity with which he adorned this lengthy address.  It
+was never the extent of his profanity, but the choice, that
+indicated Hi's interest in any subject.
+
+Altogether, the outlook for the missionary was not encouraging.
+With the single exception of the Muirs, who really counted for
+little, nobody wanted him.  To most of the reckless young bloods of
+the Company of the Noble Seven his presence was an offence; to
+others simply a nuisance, while the Old Timer regarded his advent
+with something like dismay; and now Hi's impression of his personal
+appearance was not cheering.
+
+My first sight of him did not reassure me.  He was very slight,
+very young, very innocent, with a face that might do for an angel,
+except for the touch of humor in it, but which seemed strangely out
+of place among the rough, hard faces that were to be seen in the
+Swan Creek Country.  It was not a weak face, however.  The forehead
+was high and square, the mouth firm, and the eyes were luminous, of
+some dark color--violet, if there is such a color in eyes--dreamy
+or sparkling, according to his mood; eyes for which a woman might
+find use, but which, in a missionary's head, appeared to me one of
+those extraordinary wastes of which Nature is sometimes guilty.
+
+He was gazing far away into space infinitely beyond the Foothills
+and the blue line of the mountains behind them.  He turned to me as
+I drew near, with eyes alight and face glowing.
+
+"It is glorious," he almost panted.  "You see this everyday!"
+Then, recalling himself, he came eagerly toward me, stretching out
+his hand.  "You are the schoolmaster, I know.  Do you know, it's a
+great thing?  I wanted to be one, but I never could get the boys
+on.  They always got me telling them tales.  I was awfully
+disappointed.  I am trying the next best thing.  You see, I won't
+have to keep order, but I don't think I can preach very well.  I am
+going to visit your school.  Have you many scholars?  Do you know,
+I think it's splendid?  I wish I could do it."
+
+I had intended to be somewhat stiff with him, but his evident
+admiration of me made me quite forget this laudable intention, and,
+as he talked on without waiting for an answer, his enthusiasm, his
+deference to my opinion, his charm of manner, his beautiful face,
+his luminous eyes, made him perfectly irresistible; and before I
+was aware I was listening to his plans for working his mission with
+eager interest.  So eager was my interest, indeed, that before I
+was aware I found myself asking him to tea with me in my shack.
+But he declined, saying:
+
+"I'd like to, awfully; but do you know, I think Latour expects me."
+
+This consideration of Latour's feelings almost upset me.
+
+"You come with me," he added, and I went.
+
+Latour welcomed us with his grim old face wreathed in unusual
+smiles.  The pilot had been talking to him, too.
+
+"I've got it, Latour!" he cried out as he entered; "here you are,"
+and he broke into the beautiful French-Canadian chanson, "A la
+Claire Fontaine," to the old half-breed's almost tearful delight.
+
+"Do you know," he went on, "I heard that first down the Mattawa,"
+and away he went into a story of an experience with French-Canadian
+raftsmen, mixing up his French and English in so charming a manner
+that Latour; who in his younger days long ago had been a shantyman
+himself, hardly knew whether he was standing on his head or on his
+heels.
+
+After tea I proposed a ride out to see the sunset from the nearest
+rising ground.  Latour, with unexampled generosity, offered his own
+cayuse, "Louis."
+
+"I can't ride well," protested The Pilot.
+
+"Ah! dat's good ponee, Louis," urged Latour.  "He's quiet lak wan
+leetle mouse; he's ride lak--what you call?--wan horse-on-de-rock."
+Under which persuasion the pony was accepted.
+
+That evening I saw the Swan Creek country with new eyes--through
+the luminous eyes of The Pilot.  We rode up the trail by the side
+of the Swan till we came to the coulee mouth, dark and full of
+mystery.
+
+"Come on," I said, "we must get to the top for the sunset."
+
+He looked lingeringly into the deep shadows and asked:  "Anything
+live down there?"
+
+"Coyotes and wolves and ghosts."
+
+"Ghosts?" he asked, delightedly.  "Do you know, I was sure there
+were, and I'm quite sure I shall see them."
+
+Then we took the Porcupine trail and climbed for about two miles
+the gentle slope to the top of the first rising ground.  There we
+stayed and watched the sun take his nightly plunge into the sea of
+mountains, now dimly visible.  Behind us stretched the prairie,
+sweeping out level to the sky and cut by the winding coulee of the
+Swan.  Great long shadows from the hills were lying upon its yellow
+face, and far at the distant edge the gray haze was deepening into
+purple.  Before us lay the hills, softly curving like the shoulders
+of great sleeping monsters, their tops still bright, but the
+separating valleys full of shadow.  And there, far beyond them, up
+against the sky, was the line of the mountains--blue, purple, and
+gold, according as the light fell upon them.  The sun had taken his
+plunge, but he had left behind him his robes of saffron and gold.
+We stood long without a word or movement, filling our hearts with
+the silence and the beauty, till the gold in the west began to grow
+dim.  High above all the night was stretching her star-pierced,
+blue canopy, and drawing slowly up from the east over the prairie
+and over the sleeping hills the soft folds of a purple haze.  The
+great silence of the dying day had fallen upon the world and held
+us fast.
+
+"Listen," he said, in a low tone, pointing to the hills.  "Can't
+you hear them breathe?"  And, looking at their curving shoulders, I
+fancied I could see them slowly heaving as if in heavy sleep, and I
+was quite sure I could hear them breathe.  I was under the spell of
+his voice and his eyes, and nature was all living to me then.
+
+We rode back to the Stopping Place in silence, except for a word of
+mine now and then which he heeded not; and, with hardly a good
+night, he left me at the door.  I turned away feeling as if I had
+been in a strange country and among strange people.
+
+How would he do with the Swan Creek folk?  Could he make them see
+the hills breathe?  Would they feel as I felt under his voice and
+eyes?  What a curious mixture he was!  I was doubtful about his
+first Sunday, and was surprised to find all my indifference as to
+his success or failure gone.  It was a pity about the baseball
+match.  I would speak to some of the men about it to-morrow.
+
+Hi might be disappointed in his appearance, but, as I turned into
+my shack and thought over my last two hours with The Pilot and how
+he had "got" old Latour and myself, I began to think that Hi might
+be mistaken in his measure of The Pilot.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+FIRST BLOOD
+
+
+One is never so enthusiastic in the early morning, when the emotions
+are calmest and the nerves at their steadiest.  But I was determined
+to try to have the baseball match postponed.  There could be no
+difficulty.  One day was as much of a holiday as another to these
+easy-going fellows.  But The Duke, when I suggested a change in the
+day, simply raised his eyebrows an eighth of an inch and said:
+
+"Can't see why the day should be changed."  Bruce stormed and swore
+all sorts of destruction upon himself if he was going to change his
+style of life for any man.  The others followed The Duke's lead.
+
+That Sunday was a day of incongruities.  The Old and the New, the
+East and the West, the reverential Past and iconoclastic Present
+were jumbling themselves together in bewildering confusion.  The
+baseball match was played with much vigor and profanity.  The
+expression on The Pilot's face, as he stood watching for a while,
+was a curious mixture of interest, surprise, doubt and pain.  He
+was readjusting himself.  He was so made as to be extremely
+sensitive to his surroundings.  He took on color quickly.  The
+utter indifference to the audacious disregard of all he had
+hitherto considered sacred and essential was disconcerting.  They
+were all so dead sure.  How did he know they were wrong?  It was
+his first near view of practical, living skepticism.  Skepticism in
+a book did not disturb him; he could put down words against it.
+But here it was alive, cheerful, attractive, indeed fascinating;
+for these men in their western garb and with their western swing
+had captured his imagination.  He was in a fierce struggle, and in
+a few minutes I saw him disappear into the coulee.
+
+Meantime the match went uproariously on to a finish, with the
+result that the champions of "Home" had "to stand The Painkiller,"
+their defeat being due chiefly to the work of Hi and Bronco Bill as
+pitcher and catcher.
+
+The celebration was in full swing; or as Hi put it, "the boys were
+takin' their pizen good an' calm," when in walked The Pilot.  His
+face was still troubled and his lips were drawn and blue, as if he
+were in pain.  A silence fell on the men as he walked in through
+the crowd and up to the bar.  He stood a moment hesitating, looking
+round upon the faces flushed and hot that were now turned toward
+him in curious defiance.  He noticed the look, and it pulled him
+together.  He faced about toward old Latour and asked in a high,
+clear voice:
+
+"Is this the room you said we might have?"
+
+The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders and said:
+
+"There is not any more."
+
+The lad paused for an instant, but only for an instant.  Then,
+lifting a pile of hymn books he had near him on the counter, he
+said in a grave, sweet voice, and with the quiver of a smile about
+his lips:
+
+"Gentlemen, Mr. Latour has allowed me this room for a religious
+service.  It will give me great pleasure if you will all join," and
+immediately he handed a book to Bronco Bill, who, surprised, took
+it as if he did not know what to do with it.  The others followed
+Bronco's lead till he came to Bruce, who refused, saying roughly:
+
+"No! I don't want it; I've no use for it."
+
+The missionary flushed and drew back as if he had been struck, but
+immediately, as if unconsciously, The Duke, who was standing near,
+stretched out his hand and said, with a courteous bow, "I thank
+you; I should be glad of one."
+
+"Thank you," replied The Pilot, simply, as he handed him a book.
+The men seated themselves upon the bench that ran round the room,
+or leaned up against the counter, and most of them took off their
+hats.  Just then in came Muir, and behind him his little wife.
+
+In an instant The Duke was on his feet, and every hat came off.
+
+The missionary stood up at the bar, and announced the hymn, "Jesus,
+Lover of My Soul."  The silence that followed was broken by the
+sound of a horse galloping.  A buckskin bronco shot past the
+window, and in a few moments there appeared at the door the Old
+Timer.  He was about to stride in when the unusual sight of a row
+of men sitting solemnly with hymn books in their hands held him
+fast at the door.  He gazed in an amazed, helpless way upon the
+men, then at the missionary, then back at the men, and stood
+speechless.  Suddenly there was a high, shrill, boyish laugh, and
+the men turned to see the missionary in a fit of laughter.  It
+certainly was a shock to any lingering ideas of religious propriety
+they might have about them; but the contrast between his frank,
+laughing face and the amazed and disgusted face of the shaggy old
+man in the doorway was too much for them, and one by one they gave
+way to roars of laughter.  The Old Timer, however, kept his face
+unmoved, strode up to the bar and nodded to old Latour, who served
+him his drink, which he took at a gulp.
+
+"Here, old man!" called out Bill, "get into the game; here's your
+deck," offering him his book.  But the missionary was before him,
+and, with very beautiful grace, he handed the Old Timer a book and
+pointed him to a seat.
+
+I shall never forget that service.  As a religious affair it was a
+dead failure, but somehow I think The Pilot, as Hi approvingly
+said, "got in his funny work," and it was not wholly a defeat.  The
+first hymn was sung chiefly by the missionary and Mrs. Muir, whose
+voice was very high, with one or two of the men softly whistling an
+accompaniment.  The second hymn was better, and then came the
+Lesson, the story of the feeding of the five thousand.  As the
+missionary finished the story, Bill, who had been listening with
+great interest, said:
+
+"I say, pard, I think I'll call you just now."
+
+"I beg your pardon!" said the startled missionary.
+
+"You're givin' us quite a song and dance now, ain't you?"
+
+"I don't understand," was the puzzled reply.
+
+"How many men was there in the crowd?" asked Bill, with a judicial
+air.
+
+"Five thousand."
+
+"And how much grub?"
+
+"Five loaves and two fishes," answered Bruce for the missionary.
+
+"Well," drawled Bill, with the air of a man who has reached a
+conclusion, "that's a little too unusual for me.  Why," looking
+pityingly at the missionary, "it ain't natarel."
+
+"Right you are, my boy," said Bruce, with a laugh.  "It's deucedly
+unnatural."
+
+"Not for Him," said the missionary, quietly.  Then Bruce joyfully
+took him up and led him on into a discussion of evidences, and from
+evidences into metaphysics, the origin of evil and the freedom of
+the will, till the missionary, as Bill said, "was rattled worse nor
+a rooster in the dark."  Poor little Mrs. Muir was much scandalized
+and looked anxiously at her husband, wishing him to take her out.
+But help came from an unexpected quarter, and Hi suddenly called
+out:
+
+"Here you, Bill, shut your blanked jaw, and you, Bruce, give the
+man a chance to work off his music."
+
+"That's so!  Fair play!  Go on!" were the cries that came in
+response to Hi's appeal.
+
+The missionary, who was all trembling and much troubled, gave Hi a
+grateful look, and said:
+
+"I'm afraid there are a great many things I don't understand, and I
+am not good at argument."  There were shouts of "Go on! fire ahead,
+play the game!" but he said, "I think we will close the service
+with a hymn."  His frankness and modesty, and his respectful,
+courteous manner gained the sympathy of the men, so that all joined
+heartily in singing, "Sun of My Soul."  In the prayer that followed
+his voice grew steady and his nerve came back to him.  The words
+were very simple, and the petitions were mostly for light and for
+strength.  With a few words of remembrance of "those in our homes
+far away who think of us and pray for us and never forget," this
+strange service was brought to a close.
+
+After the missionary had stepped out, the whole affair was
+discussed with great warmth.  Hi Kendal thought "The Pilot didn't
+have no fair show," maintaining that when he was "ropin' a steer he
+didn't want no blanked tenderfoot to be shovin' in his rope like
+Bill there."  But Bill steadily maintained his position that "the
+story of that there picnic was a little too unusual" for him.
+Bruce was trying meanwhile to beguile The Duke into a discussion of
+the physics and metaphysics of the case.  But The Duke refused with
+quiet contempt to be drawn into a region where he felt himself a
+stranger.  He preferred poker himself, if Bruce cared to take a
+hand; and so the evening went on, with the theological discussion
+by Hi and Bill in a judicial, friendly spirit in one corner, while
+the others for the most part played poker.
+
+When the missionary returned late there were only a few left in the
+room, among them The Duke and Bruce, who was drinking steadily and
+losing money.  The missionary's presence seemed to irritate him,
+and he played even more recklessly than usual, swearing deeply at
+every loss.  At the door the missionary stood looking up into the
+night sky and humming softly "Sun of My Soul," and after a few
+minutes The Duke joined in humming a bass to the air till Bruce
+could contain himself no longer.
+
+"I say," he called out, "this isn't any blanked prayer-meeting, is
+it?"
+
+The Duke ceased humming, and, looking at Bruce, said quietly:
+"Well, what is it?  What's the trouble?"
+
+"Trouble!" shouted Bruce.  "I don't see what hymn-singing has to do
+with a poker game."
+
+"Oh, I see!  I beg pardon!  Was I singing?" said The Duke.  Then
+after a pause he added, "You're quite right.  I say, Bruce, let's
+quit.  Something has got on to your nerves."  And coolly sweeping
+his pile into his pocket, he gave up the game.  With an oath Bruce
+left the table, took another drink, and went unsteadily out to his
+horse, and soon we heard him ride away into the darkness, singing
+snatches of the hymn and swearing the most awful oaths.
+
+The missionary's face was white with horror.  It was all new and
+horrible to him.
+
+"Will he get safely home?" he asked of The Duke.
+
+"Don't you worry, youngster," said The Duke, in his loftiest
+manner, "he'll get along."
+
+The luminous, dreamy eyes grew hard and bright as they looked The
+Duke in the face.
+
+"Yes, I shall worry; but you ought to worry more."
+
+"Ah!" said The Duke, raising his brows and smiling gently upon the
+bright, stern young face lifted up to his.  "I didn't notice that I
+had asked your opinion."
+
+"If anything should happen to him," replied the missionary, quickly,
+"I should consider you largely responsible."
+
+"That would be kind," said The Duke, still smiling with his lips.
+But after a moment's steady look into the missionary's eyes he
+nodded his head twice or thrice, and, without further word, turned
+away.
+
+The missionary turned eagerly to me:
+
+"They beat me this afternoon," he cried, "but thank God, I know now
+they are wrong and I am right!  I don't understand!  I can't see my
+way through!  But I am right!  It's true!  I feel it's true!  Men
+can't live without Him, and be men!"
+
+And long after I went to my shack that night I saw before me the
+eager face with the luminous eyes and heard the triumphant cry:  "I
+feel it's true!  Men can't live without Him, and be men!" and I
+knew that though his first Sunday ended in defeat there was victory
+yet awaiting him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+HIS SECOND WIND
+
+
+The first weeks were not pleasant for The Pilot.  He had been
+beaten, and the sense of failure damped his fine enthusiasm, which
+was one of his chief charms.  The Noble Seven despised, ignored, or
+laughed at him, according to their mood and disposition.  Bruce
+patronized him; and, worst of all, the Muirs pitied him.  This last
+it was that brought him low, and I was glad of it.  I find it hard
+to put up with a man that enjoys pity.
+
+It was Hi Kendal that restored him, though Hi had no thought of
+doing so good a deed.  It was in this way:  A baseball match was on
+with The Porcupines from near the Fort.  To Hi's disgust and the
+team's dismay Bill failed to appear.  It was Hi's delight to stand
+up for Bill's pitching, and their battery was the glory of the Home
+team.
+
+"Try The Pilot, Hi," said some one, chaffing him.
+
+Hi looked glumly across at The Pilot standing some distance, away;
+then called out, holding up the ball:
+
+"Can you play the game?"
+
+For answer Moore held up his hands for a catch.  Hi tossed him the
+ball easily.  The ball came back so quickly that Hi was hardly
+ready, and the jar seemed to amaze him exceedingly.
+
+"I'll take him," he said, doubtfully, and the game began.  Hi
+fitted on his mask, a new importation and his peculiar pride, and
+waited.
+
+"How do you like them?" asked The Pilot.
+
+"Hot!" said Hi.  "I hain't got no gloves to burn."
+
+The Pilot turned his back, swung off one foot on to the other and
+discharged his ball.
+
+"Strike!" called the umpire.
+
+"You bet!" said Hi, with emphasis, but his face was a picture of
+amazement and dawning delight.
+
+Again The Pilot went through the manoeuvre in his box and again the
+umpire called:
+
+"Strike!"
+
+Hi stopped the ball without holding it and set himself for the
+third.  Once more that disconcerting swing and the whip-like action
+of the arm, and for the third time the umpire called:
+
+"Strike!  Striker out!"
+
+"That's the hole," yelled Hi.
+
+The Porcupines were amazed.  Hi looked at the ball in his hand,
+then at the slight figure of The Pilot.
+
+"I say! where do you get it?"
+
+"What?" asked Moore innocently.
+
+"The gait!"
+
+"The what?"
+
+"The gait! the speed, you know!"
+
+"Oh! I used to play in Princeton a little."
+
+"Did, eh?  What the blank blank did you quit for?"
+
+He evidently regarded the exchange of the profession of baseball
+for the study of theology as a serious error in judgment, and in
+this opinion every inning of the game confirmed him.  At the bat
+The Pilot did not shine, but he made up for light hitting by his
+base-running.  He was fleet as a deer, and he knew the game
+thoroughly.  He was keen, eager, intense in play, and before the
+innings were half over he was recognized as the best all-round man
+on the field.  In the pitcher's box he puzzled the Porcupines till
+they grew desperate and hit wildly and blindly, amid the jeers of
+the spectators.  The bewilderment of the Porcupines was equaled
+only by the enthusiasm of Hi and his nine, and when the game was
+over the score stood 37 to 7 in favor of the Home team.  They
+carried The Pilot off the field.
+
+From that day Moore was another man.  He had won the unqualified
+respect of Hi Kendal and most of the others, for he could beat them
+at their own game and still be modest about it.  Once more his
+enthusiasm came back and his brightness and his courage.  The Duke
+was not present to witness his triumph, and, besides, he rather
+despised the game.  Bruce was there, however, but took no part in
+the general acclaim; indeed, he seemed rather disgusted with
+Moore's sudden leap into favor.  Certainly his hostility to The
+Pilot and to all that he stood for was none the less open and
+bitter.
+
+The hostility was more than usually marked at the service held on
+the Sunday following.  It was, perhaps, thrown into stronger relief
+by the open and delighted approval of Hi, who was prepared to back
+up anything The Pilot would venture to say.  Bill, who had not
+witnessed The Pilot's performance in the pitcher's box, but had
+only Hi's enthusiastic report to go upon, still preserved his
+judicial air.  It is fair to say, however, that there was no mean-
+spirited jealousy in Bill's heart even though Hi had frankly
+assured him that The Pilot was "a demon," and could "give him
+points."  Bill had great confidence in Hi's opinion upon baseball,
+but he was not prepared to surrender his right of private judgment
+in matters theological, so he waited for the sermon before
+committing himself to any enthusiastic approval.  This service was
+an undoubted success.  The singing was hearty, and insensibly the
+men fell into a reverent attitude during prayer.  The theme, too,
+was one that gave little room for skepticism.  It was the story of
+Zaccheus, and story-telling was Moore's strong point.  The thing
+was well done.  Vivid portraitures of the outcast, shrewd,
+converted publican and the supercilious, self-complacent, critical
+Pharisee were drawn with a few deft touches.  A single sentence
+transferred them to the Foothills and arrayed them in cowboy garb.
+Bill was none too sure of himself, but Hi, with delightful winks,
+was indicating Bruce as the Pharisee, to the latter's scornful
+disgust.  The preacher must have noticed, for with a very clever
+turn the Pharisee was shown to be the kind of man who likes to fit
+faults upon others.  Then Bill, digging his elbows into Hi's ribs,
+said in an audible whisper:
+
+"Say, pardner, how does it fit now?"
+
+"You git out!" answered Hi, indignantly, but his confidence in his
+interpretation of the application was shaken.  When Moore came to
+describe the Master and His place in that ancient group, we in the
+Stopping Place parlor fell under the spell of his eyes and voice,
+and our hearts were moved within us.  That great Personality was
+made very real and very winning.  Hi was quite subdued by the story
+and the picture.  Bill was perplexed; it was all new to him; but
+Bruce was mainly irritated.  To him it was all old and filled with
+memories he hated to face.  At any rate he was unusually savage
+that evening, drank heavily and went home late, raging and cursing
+at things in general and The Pilot in particular--for Moore, in a
+timid sort of way, had tried to quiet him and help him to his
+horse.
+
+"Ornery sort o' beast now, ain't he?" said Hi, with the idea of
+comforting The Pilot, who stood sadly looking after Bruce
+disappearing in the gloom.
+
+"No! no!" he answered, quickly, "not a beast, but a brother."
+
+"Brother!  Not much, if I know my relations!" answered Hi,
+disgustedly.
+
+"The Master thinks a good deal of him," was the earnest reply.
+
+"Git out!" said Hi, "you don't mean it!  Why," he added, decidedly,
+"he's more stuck on himself than that mean old cuss you was tellin'
+about this afternoon, and without half the reason."
+
+But Moore only said, kindly, "Don't be hard on him, Hi," and turned
+away, leaving Hi and Bill gravely discussing the question, with the
+aid of several drinks of whisky.  They were still discussing when,
+an hour later, they, too, disappeared into the darkness that
+swallowed up the trail to Ashley Ranch.  That was the first of many
+such services.  The preaching was always of the simplest kind,
+abstract questions being avoided and the concrete in those
+wonderful Bible tales, dressed in modern and in western garb, set
+forth.  Bill and Hi were more than ever his friends and champions,
+and the latter was heard exultantly to exclaim to Bruce:
+
+"He ain't much to look at as a parson, but he's a-ketchin' his
+second wind, and 'fore long you won't see him for dust."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE LAST OF THE PERMIT SUNDAYS
+
+
+The spring "round-ups" were all over and Bruce had nothing to do
+but to loaf about the Stopping Place, drinking old Latour's bad
+whisky and making himself a nuisance.  In vain The Pilot tried to
+win him with loans of books and magazines and other kindly
+courtesies.  He would be decent for a day and then would break
+forth in violent argumentation against religion and all who held to
+it.  He sorely missed The Duke, who was away south on one of his
+periodic journeys, of which no one knew anything or cared to ask.
+The Duke's presence always steadied Bruce and took the rasp out of
+his manners.  It was rather a relief to all that he was absent from
+the next fortnightly service, though Moore declared he was ashamed
+to confess this relief.
+
+"I can't touch him," he said to me, after the service; "he is far
+too clever, but," and his voice was full of pain, "I'd give
+something to help him."
+
+"If he doesn't quit his nonsense," I replied, "he'll soon be past
+helping.  He doesn't go out on his range, his few cattle wander
+everywhere, his shack is in a beastly state, and he himself is
+going to pieces, miserable fool that he is."  For it did seem a
+shame that a fellow should so throw himself away for nothing.
+
+"You are hard," said Moore, with his eyes upon me.
+
+"Hard?  Isn't it true?" I answered, hotly.  "Then, there's his
+mother at home."
+
+"Yes, but can he help it?  Is it all his fault?" he replied, with
+his steady eyes still looking into me.
+
+"His fault?  Whose fault, then?"
+
+"What of the Noble Seven?  Have they anything to do with this?"
+His voice was quiet, but there was an arresting intensity in it.
+
+"Well," I said, rather weakly, "a man ought to look after himself."
+
+"Yes!--and his brother a little."  Then, he added:  "What have any
+of you done to help him?  The Duke could have pulled him up a year
+ago if he had been willing to deny himself a little, and so with
+all of you.  You all do just what pleases you regardless of any
+other, and so you help one another down."
+
+I could not find anything just then to say, though afterwards many
+things came to me; for, though his voice was quiet and low, his
+eyes were glowing and his face was alight with the fire that burned
+within, and I felt like one convicted of a crime.  This was
+certainly a new doctrine for the West; an uncomfortable doctrine to
+practice, interfering seriously with personal liberty, but in The
+Pilot's way of viewing things difficult to escape.  There would be
+no end to one's responsibility.  I refused to think it out.
+
+Within a fortnight we were thinking it out with some intentness.
+The Noble Seven were to have a great "blow-out" at the Hill
+brothers' ranch.  The Duke had got home from his southern trip a
+little more weary-looking and a little more cynical in his smile.
+The "blow-out" was to be held on Permit Sunday, the alternate to
+the Preaching Sunday, which was a concession to The Pilot, secured
+chiefly through the influence of Hi and his baseball nine.  It was
+something to have created the situation involved in the distinction
+between Preaching and Permit Sundays.  Hi put it rather graphically.
+"The devil takes his innin's one Sunday and The Pilot the next,"
+adding emphatically, "He hain't done much scorin' yit, but my
+money's on The Pilot, you bet!"  Bill was more cautious and
+preferred to wait developments.  And developments were rapid.
+
+The Hill brothers' meet was unusually successful from a social
+point of view.  Several Permits had been requisitioned, and whisky
+and beer abounded.  Races all day and poker all night and drinks
+of various brews both day and night, with varying impromptu
+diversions--such as shooting the horns off wandering steers--were
+the social amenities indulged in by the noble company.  On Monday
+evening I rode out to the ranch, urged by Moore, who was anxious
+that someone should look after Bruce.
+
+"I don't belong to them," he said, "you do.  They won't resent your
+coming."
+
+Nor did they.  They were sitting at tea, and welcomed me with a
+shout.
+
+"Hello, old domine!" yelled Bruce, "where's your preacher friend?"
+
+"Where you ought to be, if you could get there--at home," I
+replied, nettled at his insolent tone.
+
+"Strike one!" called out Hi, enthusiastically, not approving
+Bruce's attitude toward his friend, The Pilot.
+
+"Don't be so acute," said Bruce, after the laugh had passed, "but
+have a drink."
+
+He was flushed and very shaky and very noisy.  The Duke, at the
+head of the table, looked a little harder than usual, but, though
+pale, was quite steady.  The others were all more or less nerve-
+broken, and about the room were the signs of a wild night.  A bench
+was upset, while broken bottles and crockery lay strewn about over
+a floor reeking with filth.  The disgust on my face called forth an
+apology from the younger Hill, who was serving up ham and eggs as
+best he could to the men lounging about the table.
+
+"It's my housemaid's afternoon out," he explained gravely.
+
+"Gone for a walk in the park," added an other.
+
+"Hope MISTER Connor will pardon the absence," sneered Bruce, in his
+most offensive manner.
+
+"Don't mind him," said Hi, under his breath, "the blue devils are
+runnin' him down."
+
+This became more evident as the evening went on.  From hilarity
+Bruce passed to sullen ferocity, with spasms of nervous terror.
+Hi's attempts to soothe him finally drove him mad, and he drew his
+revolver, declaring he could look after himself, in proof of which
+he began to shoot out the lights.
+
+The men scrambled into safe corners, all but The Duke, who stood
+quietly by watching Bruce shoot.  Then saying:
+
+"Let me have a try, Bruce," he reached across and caught his hand.
+
+"No! you don't," said Bruce, struggling.  "No man gets my gun."
+
+He tore madly at the gripping hand with both of his, but in vain,
+calling out with frightful oaths:
+
+"Let go! let go!  I'll kill you!  I'll kill you!"
+
+With a furious effort he hurled himself back from the table,
+dragging The Duke partly across.  There was a flash and a report
+and Bruce collapsed, The Duke still gripping him.  When they lifted
+him up he was found to have an ugly wound in his arm, the bullet
+having passed through the fleshy part.  I bound it up as best I
+could and tried to persuade him to go to bed.  But he would go
+home.  Nothing could stop him.  Finally The Duke agreed to go with
+him, and off they set, Bruce loudly protesting that he could get
+home alone and did not want anyone.
+
+It was a dismal break-up to the meet, and we all went home feeling
+rather sick, so that it gave me no pleasure to find Moore waiting
+in my shack for my report of Bruce.  It was quite vain for me to
+make light of the accident to him.  His eyes were wide open with
+anxious fear when I had done.
+
+"You needn't tell me not to be anxious," he said, "you are anxious
+yourself.  I see it, I feel it."
+
+"Well, there's no use trying to keep things from you," I replied,
+"but I am only a little anxious.  Don't you go beyond me and work
+yourself up into a fever over it."
+
+"No," he answered quietly, "but I wish his mother were nearer."
+
+"Oh, bosh, it isn't coming to that; but I wish he were in better
+shape.  He is broken up badly without this hole in him."
+
+He would not leave till I had promised to take him up the next day,
+though I was doubtful enough of his reception.  But next day The
+Duke came down, his black bronco, Jingo, wet with hard riding.
+
+"Better come up, Connor," he said, gravely, "and bring your
+bromides along.  He has had a bad night and morning and fell asleep
+only before I came away.  I expect he'll wake in delirium.  It's
+the whisky more than the bullet.  Snakes, you know."
+
+In ten minutes we three were on the trail, for Moore, though not
+invited, quietly announced his intention to go with us.
+
+"Oh, all right," said The Duke, indifferently, "he probably won't
+recognize you any way."
+
+We rode hard for half an hour till we came within sight of Bruce's
+shack, which was set back into a little poplar bluff.
+
+"Hold up!" said The Duke.  "Was that a shot?"  We stood listening.
+A rifle-shot rang out, and we rode hard.  Again The Duke halted us,
+and there came from the shack the sound of singing.  It was an old
+Scotch tune.
+
+"The twenty-third Psalm," said Moore, in a low voice.
+
+We rode into the bluff, tied up our horses and crept to the back of
+the shack.  Looking through a crack between the logs, I saw a
+gruesome thing.  Bruce was sitting up in bed with a Winchester
+rifle across his knees and a belt of cartridges hanging over the
+post.  His bandages were torn off, the blood from his wound was
+smeared over his bare arms and his pale, ghastly face; his eyes
+were wild with mad terror, and he was shouting at the top of his
+voice the words:
+
+     "The Lord's my shepherd, I'll not want,
+        He makes me down to lie
+      In pastures green, He leadeth me
+        The quiet waters by."
+
+Now and then he would stop to say in an awesome whisper, "Come out
+here, you little devils!" and bang would go his rifle at the
+stovepipe, which was riddled with holes.  Then once more in a loud
+voice he would hurry to begin the Psalm,
+
+     "The Lord's my Shepherd."
+
+Nothing that my memory brings to me makes me chill like that
+picture--the low log shack, now in cheerless disorder; the ghastly
+object upon the bed in the corner, with blood-smeared face and arms
+and mad terror in the eyes; the awful cursings and more awful
+psalm-singing, punctuated by the quick report of the deadly rifle.
+
+For some moments we stood gazing at one another; then The Duke
+said, in a low, fierce tone, more to himself than to us:
+
+"This is the last.  There'll be no more of this cursed folly among
+the boys."
+
+And I thought it a wise thing in The Pilot that he answered not a
+word.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE PILOT'S GRIP
+
+
+The situation was one of extreme danger--a madman with a Winchester
+rifle.  Something must be done and quickly.  But what?  It would be
+death to anyone appearing at the door.
+
+"I'll speak; you keep your eyes on him," said The Duke.
+
+"Hello, Bruce!  What's the row?" shouted The Duke.
+
+Instantly the singing stopped.  A look of cunning delight came over
+his face as, without a word, he got his rifle ready pointed at the
+door.
+
+"Come in!" he yelled, after waiting for some moments.  "Come in!
+You're the biggest of all the devils.  Come on, I'll send you down
+where you belong.  Come, what's keeping you?"
+
+Over the rifle-barrel his eyes gleamed with frenzied delight.  We
+consulted as to a plan.
+
+"I don't relish a bullet much," I said.
+
+"There are pleasanter things," responded The Duke, "and he is a
+fairly good shot."
+
+Meantime the singing had started again, and, looking through the
+chink, I saw that Bruce had got his eye on the stovepipe again.
+While I was looking The Pilot slipped away from us toward the door.
+
+"Come back!" said the Duke, "don't be a fool!  Come back, he'll
+shoot you dead!"
+
+Moore paid no heed to him, but stood waiting at the door.  In a few
+moments Bruce blazed away again at the stovepipe.  Immediately the
+Pilot burst in, calling out eagerly:
+
+"Did you get him?"
+
+"No!" said Bruce, disappointedly, "he dodged like the devil, as of
+course he ought, you know."
+
+"I'll get him," said Moore.  "Smoke him out," proceeding to open
+the stove door.
+
+"Stop!" screamed Bruce, "don't open that door!  It's full, I tell
+you."  Moore paused.  "Besides," went on Bruce, "smoke won't touch
+'em."
+
+"Oh, that's all right," said Moore, coolly and with admirable
+quickness, "wood smoke, you know--they can't stand that."
+
+This was apparently a new idea in demonology for Bruce, for he sank
+back, while Moore lighted the fire and put on the tea-kettle.  He
+looked round for the tea-caddy.
+
+"Up there," said Bruce, forgetting for the moment his devils, and
+pointing to a quaint, old-fashioned tea-caddy upon the shelf.
+
+Moore took it down, turned it in his hands and looked at Bruce.
+
+"Old country, eh?"
+
+"My mother's," said Bruce, soberly.
+
+"I could have sworn it was my aunt's in Balleymena," said Moore.
+"My aunt lived in a little stone cottage with roses all over the
+front of it."  And on he went into an enthusiastic description of
+his early home.  His voice was full of music, soft and soothing,
+and poor Bruce sank back and listened, the glitter fading from his
+eyes.
+
+The Duke and I looked at each other.
+
+"Not too bad, eh?" said The Duke, after a few moments' silence.
+
+"Let's put up the horses," I suggested.  "They won't want us for
+half an hour."
+
+When we came in, the room had been set in order, the tea-kettle was
+singing, the bedclothes straightened out, and Moore had just
+finished washing the blood stains from Bruce's arms and neck.
+
+"Just in time," he said.  "I didn't like to tackle these," pointing
+to the bandages.
+
+All night long Moore soothed and tended the sick man, now singing
+softly to him, and again beguiling him with tales that meant
+nothing, but that had a strange power to quiet the nervous
+restlessness, due partly to the pain of the wounded arm and partly
+to the nerve-wrecking from his months of dissipation.  The Duke
+seemed uncomfortable enough.  He spoke to Bruce once or twice, but
+the only answer was a groan or curse with an increase of
+restlessness.
+
+"He'll have a close squeak," said The Duke.  The carelessness of
+the tone was a little overdone, but The Pilot was stirred up by it.
+
+"He has not been fortunate in his friends," he said, looking
+straight into his eyes.
+
+"A man ought to know himself when the pace is too swift," said The
+Duke, a little more quickly than was his wont.
+
+"You might have done anything with him.  Why didn't you help him?"
+Moore's tones were stern and very steady, and he never moved his
+eyes from the other man's face, but the only reply he got was a
+shrug of the shoulders.
+
+When the gray of the morning was coming in at the window The Duke
+rose up, gave himself, a little shake, and said:
+
+"I am not of any service here.  I shall come back in the evening."
+
+He went and stood for a few moments looking down upon the hot,
+fevered face; then, turning to me, he asked:
+
+"What do you think?"
+
+"Can't say!  The bromide is holding him down just now.  His blood
+is bad for that wound."
+
+"Can I get anything?"  I knew him well enough to recognize the
+anxiety under his indifferent manner.
+
+"The Fort doctor ought to be got."
+
+He nodded and went out.
+
+"Have breakfast?" called out Moore from the door.
+
+"I shall get some at the Fort, thanks.  They won't take any hurt
+from me there," he said, smiling his cynical smile.
+
+Moore opened his eyes in surprise.
+
+"What's that for?" he asked me.
+
+"Well, he is rather cut up, and you rather rubbed it into him, you
+know," I said, for I thought Moore a little hard.
+
+"Did I say anything untrue?"
+
+"Well, not untrue, perhaps; but truth is like medicine--not always
+good to take."  At which Moore was silent till his patient needed
+him again.
+
+It was a weary day.  The intense pain from the wound, and the high
+fever from the poison in his blood kept the poor fellow in delirium
+till evening, when The Duke rode up with the Fort doctor.  Jingo
+appeared as nearly played out as a horse of his spirit ever allowed
+himself to become.
+
+"Seventy miles," said The Duke, swinging himself off the saddle.
+"The doctor was ten miles out.  How is he?"
+
+I shook my head, and he led away his horse to give him a rub and a
+feed.
+
+Meantime the doctor, who was of the army and had seen service, was
+examining his patient.  He grew more and more puzzled as he noted
+the various symptoms.  Finally he broke out:
+
+"What have you been doing to him?  Why is he in this condition?
+This fleabite doesn't account for all," pointing to the wound.
+
+We stood like children reproved.  Then The Duke said, hesitatingly:
+
+"I fear, doctor, the life has been a little too hard for him.  He
+had a severe nervous attack--seeing things, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know," stormed the old doctor.  "I know you well enough,
+with your head of cast-iron and no nerves to speak of.  I know the
+crowd and how you lead them.  Infernal fools!  You'll get your turn
+some day.  I've warned you before."
+
+The Duke was standing up before the doctor during this storm,
+smiling slightly.  All at once the smile faded out and he pointed
+to the bed.  Bruce was sitting up quiet and steady.  He stretched
+out his hand to The Duke.
+
+"Don't mind the old fool," he said, holding The Duke's hand and
+looking up at him as fondly as if he were a girl.  "It's my own
+funeral--funeral?" he paused--"Perhaps it may be--who knows?--feel
+queer enough--but remember, Duke--it's my own fault--don't listen
+to those bally fools," looking towards Moore and the doctor.  "My
+own fault"--his voice died down--"my own fault."
+
+The Duke bent over him and laid him back on the pillow, saying,
+"Thanks, old chap, you're good stuff.  I'll not forget.  Just keep
+quiet and you'll be all right."  He passed his cool, firm hand over
+the hot brow of the man looking up at him with love in his eyes,
+and in a few moments Bruce fell asleep.  Then The Duke lifted
+himself up, and facing the doctor, said in his coolest tone:
+
+"Your words are more true than opportune, doctor.  Your patient
+will need all your attention.  As for my morals, Mr. Moore kindly
+entrusts himself with the care of them."  This with a bow toward
+The Pilot.
+
+"I wish him joy of his charge," snorted the doctor, turning again
+to the bed, where Bruce had already passed into delirium.
+
+The memory of that vigil was like a horrible nightmare for months.
+Moore lay on the floor and slept.  The Duke rode off somewhither.
+The old doctor and I kept watch.  All night poor Bruce raved in the
+wildest delirium, singing, now psalms, now songs, swearing at the
+cattle or his poker partners, and now and then, in quieter moments,
+he was back in his old home, a boy, with a boy's friends and
+sports.  Nothing could check the fever.  It baffled the doctor, who
+often, during the night, declared that there was "no sense in a
+wound like that working up such a fever," adding curses upon the
+folly of The Duke and his Company.
+
+"You don't think he will not get better, doctor?" I asked, in
+answer to one of his outbreaks.
+
+"He ought to get over this," he answered, impatiently, "but I
+believe," he added, deliberately, "he'll have to go."
+
+Everything stood still for a moment.  It seemed impossible.  Two
+days ago full of life, now on the way out.  There crowded in upon
+me thoughts of his home; his mother, whose letters he used to show
+me full of anxious love; his wild life here, with all its generous
+impulses, its mistakes, its folly.
+
+"How long will he last?" I asked, and my lips were dry and numb.
+
+"Perhaps twenty-four hours, perhaps longer.  He can't throw off the
+poison."
+
+The old doctor proved a true prophet.  After another day of
+agonized delirium he sank into a stupor which lasted through the
+night.
+
+Then the change came.  As the light began to grow at the eastern
+rim of the prairie and up the far mountains in the west, Bruce
+opened his eyes and looked about upon us.  The doctor had gone; The
+Duke had not come back; Moore and I were alone.  He gazed at us
+steadily for some moments; read our faces; a look of wonder came
+into his eyes.
+
+"Is it coming?" he asked in a faint, awed voice.  "Do you really
+think I must go?"
+
+The eager appeal in his voice and the wistful longing in the wide-
+open, startled eyes were too much for Moore.  He backed behind me
+and I could hear him weeping like a baby.  Bruce heard him, too.
+
+"Is that The Pilot?" he asked.  Instantly Moore pulled himself up,
+wiped his eyes and came round to the other side of the bed and
+looked down, smiling.
+
+"Do YOU say I am dying?"  The voice was strained in its earnestness.
+I felt a thrill of admiration go through me as the Pilot answered in
+a sweet, clear voice:  "They say so, Bruce.  But you are not afraid?"
+
+Bruce kept his eyes on his face and answered with grave hesitation:
+
+"No--not--afraid--but I'd like to live a little longer.  I've made
+such a mess of it, I'd like to try again."  Then he paused, and his
+lips quivered a little.  "There's my mother, you know," he added,
+apologetically, "and Jim."  Jim was his younger brother and sworn
+chum.
+
+"Yes, I know, Bruce, but it won't be very long for them, too, and
+it's a good place."
+
+"Yes, I believe it all--always did--talked rot--you'll forgive me
+that?"
+
+"Don't; don't," said Moore quickly, with sharp pain in his voice,
+and Bruce smiled a little and closed his eyes, saying:  "I'm tired."
+But he immediately opened them again and looked up.
+
+"What is it?" asked Moore, smiling down into his eyes.
+
+"The Duke," the poor lips whispered.
+
+"He is coming," said Moore, confidently, though how he knew I could
+not tell.  But even as he spoke, looking out of the window, I saw
+Jingo come swinging round the bluff.  Bruce heard the beat of his
+hoofs, smiled, opened his eyes and waited.  The leap of joy in his
+eyes as The Duke came in, clean, cool and fresh as the morning,
+went to my heart.
+
+Neither man said a word, but Bruce took hold of The Duke's hand in
+both of his.  He was fast growing weaker.  I gave him brandy, and
+he recovered a little strength.
+
+"I am dying, Duke," he said, quietly.  "Promise you won't blame
+yourself."
+
+"I can't, old man," said The Duke, with a shudder.  "Would to
+heaven I could."
+
+"You were too strong for me, and you didn't think, did you?" and
+the weak voice had a caress in it.
+
+"No, no!  God knows," said The Duke, hurriedly.
+
+There was a long silence, and again Bruce opened his eyes and
+whispered:
+
+"The Pilot."
+
+Moore came to him.
+
+"Read 'The Prodigal,'" he said faintly, and in Moore's clear, sweet
+voice the music of that matchless story fell upon our ears.
+
+Again Bruce's eyes summoned me.  I bent over him.
+
+"My letter," he said, faintly, "in my coat--"
+
+I brought to him the last letter from his mother.  He held the
+envelope before his eyes, then handed it to me, whispering:
+
+"Read."
+
+I opened the letter and looked at the words, "My darling Davie."
+My tongue stuck and not a sound could I make.  Moore put out his
+hand and took it from me.  The Duke rose to go out, calling me with
+his eyes, but Bruce motioned him to stay, and he sat down and bowed
+his head, while Moore read the letter.
+
+His tones were clear and steady till he came to the last words,
+when his voice broke and ended in a sob:
+
+"And oh, Davie, laddie, if ever your heart turns home again,
+remember the door is aye open, and it's joy you'll bring with you
+to us all."
+
+Bruce lay quite still, and, from his closed eyes, big tears ran
+down his cheeks.  It was his last farewell to her whose love had
+been to him the anchor to all things pure here and to heaven
+beyond.
+
+He took the letter from Moore's hand, put it with difficulty to his
+lips, and then, touching the open Bible, he said, between his
+breaths:
+
+"It's--very like--there's really--no fear, is there?"
+
+"No, no!" said Moore, with cheerful, confident voice, though his,
+tears were flowing.  "No fear of your welcome."
+
+His eyes met mine.  I bent over him.  "Tell her--" and his voice
+faded away.
+
+"What shall I tell her?" I asked, trying to recall him.  But the
+message was never given.  He moved one hand slowly toward The Duke
+till it touched his head.  The Duke lifted his face and looked down
+at him, and then he did a beautiful thing for which I forgave him
+much.  He stooped over and kissed the lips grown so white, and then
+the brow.  The light came back into the eyes of the dying man, he
+smiled once more, and smilingly faced toward the Great Beyond.  And
+the morning air, fresh from the sun-tipped mountains and sweet with
+the scent of the June roses, came blowing soft and cool through the
+open window upon the dead, smiling face.  And it seemed fitting so.
+It came from the land of the Morning.
+
+Again The Duke did a beautiful thing; for, reaching across his dead
+friend, he offered his hand to The Pilot.  "Mr. Moore," he said,
+with fine courtesy, "you are a brave man and a good man; I ask your
+forgiveness for much rudeness."
+
+But Moore only shook his head while he took the outstretched hand,
+and said, brokenly:
+
+"Don't!  I can't stand it."
+
+"The Company of the Noble Seven will meet no more," said The Duke,
+with a faint smile.
+
+They did meet, however; but when they did, The Pilot was in the
+chair, and it was not for poker.
+
+The Pilot had "got his grip," as Bill said.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+GWEN
+
+
+It was not many days after my arrival in the Foothill country that
+I began to hear of Gwen.  They all had stories of her.  The details
+were not many, but the impression was vivid.  She lived remote from
+that centre of civilization known as Swan Creek in the postal
+guide, but locally as Old Latour's, far up among the hills near the
+Devil's Lake, and from her father's ranch she never ventured.  But
+some of the men had had glimpses of her and had come to definite
+opinions regarding her.
+
+"What is she like?" I asked Bill one day, trying to pin him down to
+something like a descriptive account of her.
+
+"Like!  She's a terrer," he said, with slow emphasis, "a holy
+terrer."
+
+"But what is she like?  What does she look like?" I asked
+impatiently.
+
+"Look like?"  He considered a moment, looked slowly round as if
+searching for a simile, then answered:  "I dunno."
+
+"Don't know?  What do you mean?  Haven't you seen her?"
+
+"Yeh!  But she ain't like nothin'."
+
+Bill was quite decided upon this point.
+
+I tried again.
+
+"Well, what sort of hair has she got?  She's got hair, I suppose?"
+
+"Hayer!  Well, a few!" said Bill, with some choice combinations of
+profanity in repudiation of my suggestion.  "Yards of it!  Red!"
+
+"Git out!" contradicted Hi.  "Red!  Tain't no more red than mine!"
+
+Bill regarded Hi's hair critically.
+
+"What color do you put onto your old brush?" he asked cautiously.
+
+"'Tain't no difference.  'Tain't red, anyhow."
+
+"Red!  Well, not quite exactly," and Bill went off into a low,
+long, choking chuckle, ejaculating now and then, "Red!  Jee-mi-ny
+Ann!  Red!"
+
+"No, Hi," he went on, recovering himself with the same abruptness
+as he used with his bronco, and looking at his friend with a face
+even more than usually solemn, "your hayer ain't red, Hi; don't let
+any of your relatives persuade you to that.  'Tain't red!" and he
+threatened to go off again, but pulled himself up with dangerous
+suddenness.  "It may be blue, cerulyum blue or even purple, but
+red--!"  He paused violently, looking at his friend as if he found
+him a new and interesting object of study upon which he could not
+trust himself to speak.  Nor could he be induced to proceed with
+the description he had begun.
+
+But Hi, paying no attention to Bill's oration, took up the subject
+with enthusiasm.
+
+"She kin ride--she's a reg'lar buster to ride, ain't she, Bill?"
+Bill nodded.  "She kin bunch cattle an' cut out an' yank a steer up
+to any cowboy on the range."
+
+"Why, how big is she?"
+
+"Big?  Why, she's just a kid!  'Tain't the bigness of her, it's the
+nerve.  She's got the coldest kind of nerve you ever seen.  Hain't
+she, Bill?"  And again Bill nodded.
+
+"'Member the day she dropped that steer, Bill?" went on Hi.
+
+"What was that?" I asked, eager for a yarn.
+
+"Oh, nuthin'," said Bill.
+
+"Nuthin'!" retorted Hi.  "Pretty big nuthin'!"
+
+"What was it?" I urged.
+
+"Oh, Bill here did some funny work at old Meredith's round-up, but
+he don't speak of it.  He's shy, you see," and Hi grinned.
+
+"Well, there ain't no occasion for your proceedin' onto that tact,"
+said Bill disgustedly, and Hi loyally refrained, so I have never
+yet got the rights of the story.  But from what I did hear I
+gathered that Bill, at the risk of his life, had pulled The Duke
+from under the hoofs of a mad steer, and that little Gwen had, in
+the coolest possible manner, "sailed in on her bronco" and, by
+putting two bullets into the steer's head, had saved them both from
+great danger, perhaps from death, for the rest of the cattle were
+crowding near.  Of course Bill could never be persuaded to speak of
+the incident.  A true western man will never hesitate to tell you
+what he can do, but of what he has done he does not readily speak.
+
+The only other item that Hi contributed to the sketch of Gwen was
+that her temper could blaze if the occasion demanded.
+
+"'Member young Hill, Bill?"
+
+Bill "'membered."
+
+"Didn't she cut into him sudden?  Sarved him right, too."
+
+"What did she do?"
+
+"Cut him across the face with her quirt in good style."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Knockin' about her Indian Joe."
+
+Joe was, as I came to learn, Ponka's son and Gwen's most devoted
+slave.
+
+"Oh, she ain't no refrigerator."
+
+"Yes," assented Bill.  "She's a leetle swift."  Then, as if fearing
+he had been apologizing for her, he added, with the air of one
+settling the question:  "But she's good stock!  She suits me!"
+
+The Duke helped me to another side of her character.
+
+"She is a remarkable child," he said, one day.  "Wild and shy as a
+coyote, but fearless, quite; and with a heart full of passions.
+Meredith, the Old Timer, you know, has kept her up there among the
+hills.  She sees no one but himself and Ponka's Blackfeet
+relations, who treat her like a goddess and help to spoil her
+utterly.  She knows their lingo and their ways--goes off with them
+for a week at a time."
+
+"What!  With the Blackfeet?"
+
+"Ponka and Joe, of course, go along; but even without them she is
+as safe as if surrounded by the Coldstream Guards, but she has
+given them up for some time now."
+
+"And at home?" I asked.  "Has she any education?  Can she read or
+write?"
+
+"Not she.  She can make her own dresses, moccasins and leggings.
+She can cook and wash--that is, when she feels in the mood.  And
+she knows all about the birds and beasts and flowers and that sort
+of thing, but--education!  Why, she is hardly civilized!"
+
+"What a shame!" I said.  "How old is she?"
+
+"Oh, a mere child; fourteen or fifteen, I imagine; but a woman in
+many things."
+
+"And what does her father say to all this?  Can he control her?"
+
+"Control!" said The Duke, in utter astonishment.  "Why, bless your
+soul, nothing in heaven or earth could control HER.  Wait till you
+see her stand with her proud little head thrown back, giving orders
+to Joe, and you will never again connect the idea of control with
+Gwen.  She might be a princess for the pride of her.  I've seen
+some, too, in my day, but none to touch her for sheer, imperial
+pride, little Lucifer that she is."
+
+"And how does her father stand her nonsense?" I asked, for I
+confess I was not much taken with the picture The Duke had drawn.
+
+"Her father simply follows behind her and adores, as do all things
+that come near her, down, or up, perhaps, to her two dogs--Wolf and
+Loo--for either of which she would readily die if need be.  Still,"
+he added, after a pause, "it IS a shame, as you say.  She ought to
+know something of the refinements of civilization, to which, after
+all, she belongs, and from which none of us can hope to escape."
+The Duke was silent for a few moments, and then added, with some
+hesitation:  "Then, too, she is quite a pagan; never saw a prayer-
+book, you know."
+
+And so it came about, chiefly through The Duke's influence, I
+imagine, that I was engaged by the Old Timer to go up to his ranch
+every week and teach his daughter something of the elementaries of
+a lady's education.
+
+My introduction was ominous of the many things I was to suffer of
+that same young maiden before I had finished my course with her.
+The Old Timer had given careful directions as to the trail that
+would lead me to the canyon where he was to meet me.  Up the Swan
+went the trail, winding ever downward into deeper and narrower
+coulees and up to higher open sunlit slopes, till suddenly it
+settled into a valley which began with great width and narrowed to
+a canyon whose rocky sides were dressed out with shrubs and
+trailing vines and wet with trickling rivulets from the numerous
+springs that oozed and gushed from the black, glistening rocks.
+This canyon was an eerie place of which ghostly tales were told
+from the old Blackfeet times.  And to this day no Blackfoot will
+dare to pass through this black-walled, oozy, glistening canyon
+after the moon has passed the western lip.  But in the warm light
+of broad day the canyon was a good enough place; cool and sweet,
+and I lingered through, waiting for the Old Timer, who failed to
+appear till the shadows began to darken its western black sides.
+
+Out of the mouth of the canyon the trail climbed to a wide stretch
+of prairie that swept up over soft hills to the left and down to
+the bright gleaming waters of the Devil's Lake on the right.  In
+the sunlight the lake lay like a gem radiant with many colors, the
+far side black in the shadow of the crowding pines, then in the
+middle deep, blue and purple, and nearer, many shades of emerald
+that ran quite to the white, sandy beach.  Right in front stood the
+ranch buildings, upon a slight rising ground and surrounded by a
+sturdy palisade of upright pointed poles.  This was the castle of
+the princess.  I rode up to the open gate, then turned and stood to
+look down upon the marvellous lake shining and shimmering with its
+many radiant colors.  Suddenly there was an awful roar, my pony
+shot round upon his hind legs after his beastly cayuse manner,
+deposited me sitting upon the ground and fled down the trail,
+pursued by two huge dogs that brushed past me as I fell.  I was
+aroused from my amazement by a peal of laughter, shrill but full of
+music.  Turning, I saw my pupil, as I guessed, standing at the head
+of a most beautiful pinto (spotted) pony with a heavy cattle quirt
+in her hand.  I scrambled to my feet and said, somewhat angrily, I
+fear:
+
+"What are you laughing at?  Why don't you call back your dogs?
+They will chase my pony beyond all reach."
+
+She lifted her little head, shook back her masses of brown-red
+hair, looked at me as if I were quite beneath contempt and said:
+"No, they will kill him."
+
+"Then," said I, for I was very angry, "I will kill them," pulling
+at the revolver in my belt.
+
+"Then," she said, and for the first time I noticed her eyes blue-
+black, with gray rims, "I will kill you," and she whipped out an
+ugly-looking revolver.  From her face I had no doubt that she would
+not hesitate to do as she had said.  I changed my tactics, for I
+was anxious about my pony, and said, with my best smile:
+
+"Can't you call them back?  Won't they obey you?"
+
+Her face changed in a moment.
+
+"Is it your pony?  Do you love him very much?"
+
+"Dearly!" I said, persuading myself of a sudden affection for the
+cranky little brute.
+
+She sprang upon her pinto and set off down the trail.  The pony
+was now coursing up and down the slopes, doubling like a hare,
+instinctively avoiding the canyon where he would be cornered.  He
+was mad with terror at the huge brutes that were silently but with
+awful and sure swiftness running him down.
+
+The girl on the pinto whistled shrilly, and called to her dogs:
+"Down, Wolf!  Back, Loo!" but, running low, with long, stretched
+bodies, they heeded not, but sped on, ever gaining upon the pony
+that now circled toward the pinto.  As they drew near in their
+circling, the girl urged her pinto to meet them, loosening her
+lariat as she went.  As the pony neared the pinto he slackened his
+speed; immediately the nearer dog gathered herself in two short
+jumps and sprang for the pony's throat.  But, even as she sprang,
+the lariat whirled round the girl's head and fell swift and sure
+about the dog's neck, and next moment she lay choking upon the
+prairie.  Her mate paused, looked back, and gave up the chase.  But
+dire vengeance overtook them, for, like one possessed, the girl
+fell upon them with her quirt and beat them one after the other
+till, in pity for the brutes, I interposed.
+
+"They shall do as I say or I shall kill them!  I shall kill them!"
+she cried, raging and stamping.
+
+"Better shoot them," I suggested, pulling out my pistol.
+
+Immediately she flung herself upon the one that moaned and whined
+at her feet, crying:
+
+"If you dare!  If you dare!"  Then she burst into passionate
+sobbing.  "You bad Loo!  You bad, dear old Loo!  But you WERE bad--
+you KNOW you were bad!" and so she went on with her arms about
+Loo's neck till Loo, whining and quivering with love and delight,
+threatened to go quite mad, and Wolf, standing majestically near,
+broke into short howls of impatience for his turn of caressing.
+They made a strange group, those three wild things, equally fierce
+and passionate in hate and in love.
+
+Suddenly the girl remembered me, and standing up she said, half
+ashamed:
+
+"They always obey ME.  They are MINE, but they kill any strange
+thing that comes in through the gate.  They are allowed to."
+
+"It is a pleasant whim."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I mean, isn't that dangerous to strangers?"
+
+"Oh, no one ever comes alone, except The Duke.  And they keep off
+the wolves."
+
+"The Duke comes, does he?"
+
+"Yes!" and her eyes lit up.  "He is my friend.  He calls me his
+'princess,' and he teaches me to talk and tells me stories--oh,
+wonderful stories!"
+
+I looked in wonder at her face, so gentle, so girlish, and tried to
+think back to the picture of the girl who a few moments before had
+so coolly threatened to shoot me and had so furiously beaten her
+dogs.
+
+I kept her talking of The Duke as we walked back to the gate,
+watching her face the while.  It was not beautiful; it was too
+thin, and the mouth was too large.  But the teeth were good, and
+the eyes, blue-black with gray rims, looked straight at you; true
+eyes and brave, whether in love or in war.  Her hair was her glory.
+Red it was, in spite of Hi's denial, but of such marvellous,
+indescribable shade that in certain lights, as she rode over the
+prairie, it streamed behind her like a purple banner.  A most
+confusing and bewildering color, but quite in keeping with the
+nature of the owner.
+
+She gave her pinto to Joe and, standing at the door, welcomed me
+with a dignity and graciousness that made me think that The Duke
+was not far wrong when he named her "Princess."
+
+The door opened upon the main or living room.  It was a long,
+apartment, with low ceiling and walls of hewn logs chinked and
+plastered and all beautifully whitewashed and clean.  The tables,
+chairs and benches were all home-made.  On the floor were
+magnificent skins of wolf, bear, musk ox and mountain goat.  The
+walls were decorated with heads and horns of deer and mountain
+sheep, eagles' wings and a beautiful breast of a loon, which Gwen
+had shot and of which she was very proud.  At one end of the room a
+huge stone fireplace stood radiant in its summer decorations of
+ferns and grasses and wild-flowers.  At the other end a door opened
+into another room, smaller and richly furnished with relics of
+former grandeur.
+
+Everything was clean and well kept.  Every nook, shelf and corner
+was decked with flowers and ferns from the canyon.
+
+A strange house it was, full of curious contrasts, but it fitted
+this quaint child that welcomed me with such gracious courtesy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+GWEN'S FIRST PRAYERS
+
+
+It was with hesitation, almost with fear, that I began with Gwen;
+but even had I been able to foresee the endless series of
+exasperations through which she was destined to conduct me, still
+would I have undertaken my task.  For the child, with all her
+wilfulness, her tempers and her pride, made me, as she did all
+others, her willing slave.
+
+Her lessons went on, brilliantly or not at all, according to her
+sweet will.  She learned to read with extraordinary rapidity, for
+she was eager to know more of that great world of which The Duke
+had told her such thrilling tales.  Writing she abhorred.  She had
+no one to write to.  Why should she cramp her fingers over these
+crooked little marks?  But she mastered with hardly a struggle the
+mysteries of figures, for she would have to sell her cattle, and
+"dad doesn't know when they are cheating."  Her ideas of education
+were purely utilitarian, and what did not appear immediately useful
+she refused to trifle with.  And so all through the following long
+winter she vexed my righteous soul with her wilfulness and pride.
+An appeal to her father was idle.  She would wind her long, thin
+arms about his neck and let her waving red hair float over him
+until the old man was quite helpless to exert authority.  The Duke
+could do most with her.  To please him she would struggle with her
+crooked letters for an hour at a time, but even his influence and
+authority had its limits.
+
+"Must I?" she said one day, in answer to a demand of his for more
+faithful study; "must I?"  And throwing up her proud little head,
+and shaking back with a trick she had her streaming red hair, she
+looked straight at him from her blue-gray eyes and asked the
+monosyllabic question, "Why?"  And The Duke looked back at her with
+his slight smile for a few moments and then said in cold, even
+tones:
+
+"I really don't know why," and turned his back on her.  Immediately
+she sprang at him, shook him by the arm, and, quivering with
+passion, cried:
+
+"You are not to speak to me like that, and you are not to turn your
+back that way!"
+
+"What a little princess it is," he said admiringly, "and what a
+time she will give herself some day!"  Then he added, smiling
+sadly:  "Was I rude, Gwen?  Then I am sorry."  Her rage was gone,
+and she looked as if she could have held him by the feet.  As it
+was, too proud to show her feelings, she just looked at him with
+softening eyes, and then sat down to the work she had refused.
+This was after the advent of The Pilot at Swan Creek, and, as The
+Duke rode home with me that night, after long musing he said with
+hesitation:  "She ought to have some religion, poor child; she will
+grow up a perfect little devil.  The Pilot might be of service if
+you could bring him up.  Women need that sort of thing; it refines,
+you know."
+
+"Would she have him?" I asked.
+
+"Question," he replied, doubtfully.  "You might suggest it."
+
+Which I did, introducing somewhat clumsily, I fear, The Duke's
+name.
+
+"The Duke says he is to make me good!" she cried.  "I won't have
+him, I hate him and you too!"  And for that day she disdained all
+lessons, and when The Duke next appeared she greeted him with the
+exclamation, "I won't have your old Pilot, and I don't want to be
+good, and--and--you think he's no good yourself," at which the Duke
+opened his eyes.
+
+"How do you know?  I never said so!"
+
+"You laughed at him to dad one day."
+
+"Did I?" said The Duke, gravely.  "Then I hasten to assure, you
+that I have changed my mind.  He is a good, brave man."
+
+"He falls off his horse," she said, with contempt.
+
+"I rather think he sticks on now," replied The Duke, repressing a
+smile.
+
+"Besides," she went on, "he's just a kid; Bill said so."
+
+"Well, he might be more ancient," acknowledged The Duke, "but in
+that he is steadily improving."
+
+"Anyway," with an air of finality, "he is not to come here."
+
+But he did come, and under her own escort, one threatening August
+evening.
+
+"I found him in the creek," she announced, with defiant
+shamefacedness, marching in The Pilot half drowned.
+
+"I think I could have crossed," he said, apologetically, "for Louis
+was getting on his feet again."
+
+"No, you wouldn't," she protested.  "You would have been down into
+the canyon by now, and you ought to be thankful."
+
+"So I am," he hastened to say, "very!  But," he added, unwilling to
+give up his contention, "I have crossed the Swan before."
+
+"Not when it was in flood."
+
+"Yes, when it was in flood, higher than now."
+
+"Not where the banks are rocky."
+
+"No-o!" he hesitated.
+
+"There, then, you WOULD have been drowned but for my lariat!" she
+cried, triumphantly.
+
+To this he doubtfully assented.
+
+They were much alike, in high temper, in enthusiasm, in vivid
+imagination, and in sensitive feeling.  When the Old Timer came in
+Gwen triumphantly introduced The Pilot as having been rescued from
+a watery grave by her lariat, and again they fought out the
+possibilities of drowning and of escape till Gwen almost lost her
+temper, and was appeased only by the most profuse expressions of
+gratitude on the part of The Pilot for her timely assistance.  The
+Old Timer was perplexed.  He was afraid to offend Gwen and yet
+unwilling to be cordial to her guest.  The Pilot was quick to feel
+this, and, soon after tea, rose to go.  Gwen's disappointment
+showed in her face.
+
+"Ask him to stay, dad," she said, in a whisper.  But the half-
+hearted invitation acted like a spur, and The Pilot was determined
+to set off.
+
+"There's a bad storm coming," she said; "and besides," she added,
+triumphantly "you can't cross the Swan."
+
+This settled it, and the most earnest prayers of the Old Timer
+could not have held him back.
+
+We all went down to see him cross, Gwen leading her pinto.  The
+Swan was far over its banks, and in the middle running swift and
+strong.  Louis snorted, refused and finally plunged.  Bravely he
+swam, till the swift-running water struck him, and over he went on
+his side, throwing his rider into the water.  But The Pilot kept
+his head, and, holding by the stirrups, paddled along by Louis'
+side.  When they were half-way across Louis saw that he had no
+chance of making the landing; so, like a sensible horse, he turned
+and made for the shore.  Here, too, the banks were high, and the
+pony began to grow discouraged.
+
+"Let him float down further!" shrieked Gwen, in anxious excitement;
+and, urging her pinto down the bank, she coaxed the struggling pony
+down the stream till opposite a shelf of rock level with the high
+water.  Then she threw her lariat, and, catching Louis about the
+neck and the horn of his saddle, she held taut, till, half drowned,
+he scrambled up the bank, dragging The Pilot with him.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad!" she said, almost tearfully.  "You see, you
+couldn't get across."
+
+The Pilot staggered to his feet, took a step toward her, gasped
+out:
+
+"I can!" and pitched headlong.  With a little cry she flew to him,
+and turned him over on his back.  In a few moments he revived, sat
+up, and looked about stupidly.
+
+"Where's Louis?" he said, with his face toward the swollen stream.
+
+"Safe enough," she answered; "but you must come in, the rain is
+just going to pour."
+
+But The Pilot seemed possessed.
+
+"No, I'm going across," he said, rising.
+
+Gwen was greatly distressed.
+
+"But your poor horse," she said, cleverly changing her ground; "he
+is quite tired out."
+
+The Old Timer now joined earnestly in urging him to stay till the
+storm was past.  So, with a final look at the stream, The Pilot
+turned toward the house.
+
+Of course I knew what would happen.  Before the evening was over he
+had captured the household.  The moment he appeared with dry things
+on he ran to the organ, that had stood for ten years closed and
+silent, opened it and began to play.  As he played and sang song
+after song, the Old Timer's eyes began to glisten under his shaggy
+brows.  But when he dropped into the exquisite Irish melody, "Oft
+in the Stilly Night," the old man drew a hard breath and groaned
+out to me:
+
+"It was her mother's song," and from that time The Pilot had him
+fast.  It was easy to pass to the old hymn, "Nearer, My God, to
+Thee," and then The Pilot said simply, "May we have prayers?"  He
+looked at Gwen, but she gazed blankly at him and then at her
+father.
+
+"What does he say, dad?"
+
+It was pitiful to see the old man's face grow slowly red under the
+deep tan, as he said:
+
+"You may, sir.  There's been none here for many years, and the
+worse for us."  He rose slowly, went into the inner room and
+returned with a Bible.
+
+"It's her mother's," he said, in a voice deep with emotion.  "I put
+it in her trunk the day I laid her out yonder under the pines."
+The Pilot, without looking at him, rose and reverently took the
+book in both his hands and said gently:
+
+"It was a sad day for you, but for her--"  He paused.  "You did not
+grudge it to her?"
+
+"Not now, but then, yes!  I wanted her, we needed her."  The Old
+Timer's tears were flowing.
+
+The Pilot put his hand caressingly upon the old man's shoulder as
+if he had been his father, and said in his clear, sweet voice,
+"Some day you will go to her."
+
+Upon this scene poor Gwen gazed with eyes wide open with amazement
+and a kind of fear.  She had never seen her father weep since the
+awful day that she could never forget, when he had knelt in dumb
+agony beside the bed on which her mother lay white and still; nor
+would he heed her till, climbing up, she tried to make her mother
+waken and hear her cries.  Then he had caught her up in his arms,
+pressing her with tears and great sobs to his heart.  To-night she
+seemed to feel that something was wrong.  She went and stood by her
+father, and, stroking his gray hair kindly, she said:
+
+"What is he saying, daddy?  Is he making you cry?"  She looked at
+The Pilot defiantly.
+
+"No, no, child," said the old man, hastily, "sit here and listen."
+
+And while the storm raved outside we three sat listening to that
+ancient story of love ineffable.   And, as the words fell like
+sweet music upon our ears, the old man sat with eyes that looked
+far away, while the child listened with devouring eagerness.
+
+"Is it a fairy tale, daddy?" she asked, as The Pilot paused.  "It
+isn't true, is it?" and her voice had a pleading note hard for the
+old man to bear.
+
+"Yes, yes, my child," said he, brokenly.  "God forgive me!"
+
+"Of course it's true," said The Pilot, quickly.  "I'll read it all
+to you to-morrow.  It's a beautiful story!"
+
+"No," she said, imperiously, "to-night.  Read it now!  Go on!" she
+said, stamping her foot, "don't you hear me?"
+
+The Pilot gazed in surprise at her, and then turning to the old
+man, said:
+
+"Shall I?"
+
+The Old Timer simply nodded and the reading went on.  Those were
+not my best days, and the faith of my childhood was not as it had
+been; but, as The Pilot carried us through those matchless scenes
+of self-forgetting love and service the rapt wonder in the child's
+face as she listened, the appeal in her voice as, now to her
+father, and now to me, she cried:  "Is THAT true, too?  Is it ALL
+true?" made it impossible for me to hesitate in my answer.  And I
+was glad to find it easy to give my firm adherence to the truth of
+all that tale of wonder.  And, as more and more it grew upon The
+Pilot that the story he was reading, so old to him and to all he
+had ever met, was new to one in that listening group, his face
+began to glow and his eyes to blaze, and he saw and showed me
+things that night I had never seen before, nor have I seen them
+since.  The great figure of the Gospels lived, moved before our
+eyes.  We saw Him bend to touch the blind, we heard Him speak His
+marvellous teaching, we felt the throbbing excitement of the crowds
+that pressed against Him.
+
+Suddenly The Pilot stopped, turned over the leaves and began again:
+"And He led them out as far as to Bethany.  And He lifted up His
+hands and blessed them.  And it came to pass as He blessed them He
+was parted from them and a cloud received Him out of their sight."
+There was silence for some minutes, then Gwen said:
+
+"Where did He go?"
+
+"Up into Heaven," answered The Pilot, simply.
+
+"That's where mother is," she said to her father, who nodded in
+reply.
+
+"Does He know?" she asked.  The old man looked distressed.
+
+"Of course He does," said The Pilot, "and she sees Him all the
+time."
+
+"Oh, daddy!" she cried, "isn't that good?"
+
+But the old man only hid his face in his hands and groaned.
+
+"Yes," went on The Pilot, "and He sees us, too, and hears us speak,
+and knows our thoughts."
+
+Again the look of wonder and fear came into her eyes, but she said
+no word.  The experiences of the evening had made the world new to
+her.  It could never be the same to her again.  It gave me a queer
+feeling to see her, when we three kneeled to pray, stand helplessly
+looking on, not knowing what to do, then sink beside her father,
+and, winding her arms about his neck, cling to him as the words of
+prayer were spoken into the ear of Him whom no man can see, but who
+we believe is near to all that call upon Him.
+
+Those were Gwen's first "prayers," and in them Gwen's part was
+small, for fear and wonder filled her heart; but the day was to
+come, and all too soon, when she should have to pour out her soul
+with strong crying and tears.  That day came and passed, but the
+story of it is not to be told here.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER  XI
+
+GWEN'S CHALLENGE
+
+
+Gwen was undoubtedly wild and, as The Sky Pilot said, wilful and
+wicked.  Even Bronco Bill and Hi Kendal would say so, without, of
+course, abating one jot of their admiration for her.  For fourteen
+years she had lived chiefly with wild things.  The cattle on the
+range, wild as deer, the coyotes, the jack-rabbits and the timber
+wolves were her mates and her instructors.  From these she learned
+her wild ways.  The rolling prairie of the Foothill country was
+her home.  She loved it and all things that moved upon it with
+passionate love, the only kind she was capable of.  And all summer
+long she spent her days riding up and down the range alone, or with
+her father, or with Joe, or, best of all, with The Duke, her hero
+and her friend.  So she grew up strong, wholesome and self-reliant,
+fearing nothing alive and as untamed as a yearling range colt.
+
+She was not beautiful.  The winds and sun had left her no complexion
+to speak of, but the glory of her red hair, gold-red, with purple
+sheen, nothing could tarnish.  Her eyes, too, deep blue with rims of
+gray, that flashed with the glint of steel or shone with melting
+light as of the stars, according to her mood--those Irish, warm,
+deep eyes of hers were worth a man's looking at.
+
+Of course, all spoiled her.  Ponka and her son Joe grovelled in
+abjectest adoration, while her father and all who came within touch
+of her simply did her will.  Even The Duke, who loved her better
+than anything else, yielded lazy, admiring homage to his Little
+Princess, and certainly, when she stood straight up with her proud
+little gold-crowned head thrown back, flashing forth wrath or
+issuing imperious commands, she looked a princess, all of her.
+
+It was a great day and a good day for her when she fished The Sky
+Pilot out of the Swan and brought him home, and the night of Gwen's
+first "prayers," when she heard for the first time the story of the
+Man of Nazareth, was the best of all her nights up to that time.
+All through the winter, under The Pilot's guidance, she, with her
+father, the Old Timer, listening near, went over and over that
+story so old now to many, but ever becoming new, till a whole new
+world of mysterious Powers and Presences lay open to her imagination
+and became the home of great realities.  She was rich in imagination
+and, when The Pilot read Bunyan's immortal poem, her mother's old
+"Pilgrim's Progress," she moved and lived beside the hero of that
+tale, backing him up in his fights and consumed with anxiety over
+his many impending perils, till she had him safely across the river
+and delivered into the charge of the shining ones.
+
+The Pilot himself, too, was a new and wholesome experience.  He was
+the first thing she had yet encountered that refused submission,
+and the first human being that had failed to fall down and worship.
+There was something in him that would not ALWAYS yield, and,
+indeed, her pride and her imperious tempers he met with surprise
+and sometimes with a pity that verged toward contempt.  With this
+she was not well pleased and not infrequently she broke forth upon
+him.  One of these outbursts is stamped upon my mind, not only
+because of its unusual violence, but chiefly because of the events
+which followed.  The original cause of her rage was some trifling
+misdeed of the unfortunate Joe; but when I came upon the scene it
+was The Pilot who was occupying her attention.  The expression of
+surprise and pity on his face appeared to stir her up.
+
+"How dare you look at me like that?" she cried.
+
+"How very extraordinary that you can't keep hold of yourself
+better!" he answered.
+
+"I can!" she stamped, "and I shall do as I like!"
+
+"It is a great pity," he said, with provoking calm, "and besides,
+it is weak and silly."  His words were unfortunate.
+
+"Weak!" she gasped, when her breath came back to her.  "Weak!"
+
+"Yes," he said, "very weak and childish."
+
+Then she could have cheerfully put him to a slow and cruel death.
+When she had recovered a little she cried vehemently:
+
+"I'm not weak!  I'm strong!  I'm stronger than you are!  I'm strong
+as--as--a man!"
+
+I do not suppose she meant the insinuation; at any rate The Pilot
+ignored it and went on.
+
+"You're not strong enough to keep your temper down."  And then, as
+she had no reply ready, he went on, "And really, Gwen, it is not
+right.  You must not go on in this way."
+
+Again his words were unfortunate.
+
+"MUST NOT!" she cried, adding an inch to her height.  "Who says
+so?"
+
+"God!" was the simple, short answer.
+
+She was greatly taken back, and gave a quick glance over her
+shoulder as if to see Him, who would dare to say MUST NOT to her;
+but, recovering, she answered sullenly:
+
+"I don't care!"
+
+"Don't care for God?"  The Pilot's voice was quiet and solemn, but
+something in his manner angered her, and she blazed forth again.
+
+"I don't care for anyone, and I SHALL do as I like."
+
+The Pilot looked at her sadly for a moment, and then said slowly:
+
+"Some day, Gwen, you will not be able to do as you like."
+
+I remember well the settled defiance in her tone and manner as she
+took a step nearer him and answered in a voice trembling with
+passion:
+
+"Listen!  I have always done as I like, and I shall do as I like
+till I die!"  And she rushed forth from the house and down toward
+the canyon, her refuge from all disturbing things, and chiefly from
+herself.
+
+I could not shake off the impression her words made upon me.
+"Pretty direct, that," I said to The Pilot, as we rode away.  "The
+declaration may be philosophically correct, but it rings uncommonly
+like a challenge to the Almighty.  Throws down the gauntlet, so to
+speak."
+
+But The Pilot only said, "Don't!  How can you?"
+
+Within a week her challenge was accepted, and how fiercely and how
+gallantly did she struggle to make it good!
+
+It was The Duke that brought me the news, and as he told me the
+story his gay, careless self-command for once was gone.  For in the
+gloom of the canyon where he overtook me I could see his face
+gleaming out ghastly white, and even his iron nerve could not keep
+the tremor from his voice.
+
+"I've just sent up the doctor," was his answer to my greeting.  "I
+looked for you last night, couldn't find you, and so rode off to
+the Fort."
+
+"What's up?" I said, with fear in my heart, for no light thing
+moved The Duke.
+
+"Haven't you heard?  It's Gwen," he said, and the next minute or
+two he gave to Jingo, who was indulging in a series of unexpected
+plunges.  When Jingo was brought down, The Duke was master of
+himself and told his tale with careful self-control.
+
+Gwen, on her father's buckskin bronco, had gone with The Duke to
+the big plain above the cut-bank where Joe was herding the cattle.
+The day was hot and a storm was in the air.  They found Joe riding
+up and down, singing to keep the cattle quiet, but having a hard
+time to hold the bunch from breaking.  While The Duke was riding
+around the far side of the bunch, a cry from Gwen arrested his
+attention.  Joe was in trouble.  His horse, a half-broken cayuse,
+had stumbled into a badger-hole and had bolted, leaving Joe to the
+mercy of the cattle.  At once they began to sniff suspiciously at
+this phenomenon, a man on foot, and to follow cautiously on his
+track.  Joe kept his head and walked slowly out, till all at once a
+young cow began to bawl and to paw the ground.  In another minute
+one, and then another of the cattle began to toss their heads and
+bunch and bellow till the whole herd of two hundred were after Joe.
+Then Joe lost his head and ran.  Immediately the whole herd broke
+into a thundering gallop with heads and tails aloft and horns
+rattling like the loading of a regiment of rifles.
+
+"Two more minutes," said The Duke, "would have done for Joe, for I
+could never have reached him; but, in spite of my most frantic
+warnings and signalings, right into the face of that mad,
+bellowing, thundering mass of steers rode that little girl.  Nerve!
+I have some myself, but I couldn't have done it.  She swung her
+horse round Joe and sailed out with him, with the herd bellowing at
+the tail of her bronco.  I've seen some cavalry things in my day,
+but for sheer cool bravery nothing touches that."
+
+"How did it end?  Did they run them down?" I asked, with terror at
+such a result.
+
+"No, they crowded her toward the cut-bank, and she was edging them
+off and was almost past, when they came to a place where the bank
+bit in, and her iron-mouthed brute wouldn't swerve, but went
+pounding on, broke through, plunged; she couldn't spring free
+because of Joe, and pitched headlong over the bank, while the
+cattle went thundering past.  I flung myself off Jingo and slid
+down somehow into the sand, thirty feet below.  Here was Joe safe
+enough, but the bronco lay with a broken leg, and half under him
+was Gwen.  She hardly knew she was hurt, but waved her hand to me
+and cried out, 'Wasn't that a race?  I couldn't swing this hard-
+headed brute.  Get me out.'  But even as she spoke the light faded
+from her eyes, she stretched out her hands to me, saying faintly,
+'Oh, Duke,' and lay back white and still.  We put a bullet into the
+buckskin's head, and carried her home in our jackets, and there she
+lies without a sound from her poor, white lips."
+
+The Duke was badly cut up.  I had never seen him show any sign of
+grief before, but as he finished the story he stood ghastly and
+shaking.  He read my surprise in my face and said:
+
+"Look here, old chap, don't think me quite a fool.  You can't know
+what that little girl has done for me these years.  Her trust in
+me--it is extraordinary how utterly she trusts me--somehow held me
+up to my best and back from perdition.  It is the one bright spot
+in my life in this blessed country.  Everyone else thinks me a
+pleasant or unpleasant kind of fiend."
+
+I protested rather faintly.
+
+"Oh, don't worry your conscience," he answered, with a slight
+return of his old smile, "a fuller knowledge would only justify the
+opinion."  Then, after a pause, he added:  "But if Gwen goes, I must
+pull out, I could not stand it."
+
+As we rode up, the doctor came out.
+
+"Well, what do you think?" asked The Duke.
+
+"Can't say yet," replied the old doctor, gruff with long army
+practice, "bad enough.  Good night."
+
+But The Duke's hand fell upon his shoulder with a grip that must
+have got to the bone, and in a husky voice he asked:
+
+"Will she live?"
+
+The doctor squirmed, but could not shake off that crushing grip.
+
+"Here, you young tiger, let go!  What do you think I am made of?"
+he cried, angrily.  "I didn't suppose I was coming to a bear's den,
+or I should have brought a gun."
+
+It was only by the most complete apology that The Duke could
+mollify the old doctor sufficiently to get his opinion.
+
+"No, she will not die!  Great bit of stuff!  Better she should die,
+perhaps!  But can't say yet for two weeks.  Now remember," he added
+sharply, looking into The Duke's woe-stricken face, "her spirits
+must be kept up.  I have lied most fully and cheerfully to them
+inside; you must do the same," and the doctor strode away, calling
+out:
+
+"Joe!  Here, Joe!  Where is he gone?  Joe, I say!  Extraordinary
+selection Providence makes at times; we could have spared that lazy
+half-breed with pleasure!  Joe!  Oh, here you are!  Where in
+thunder--"  But here the doctor stopped abruptly.  The agony in the
+dark face before him was too much even for the bluff doctor.
+Straight and stiff Joe stood by the horse's head till the doctor
+had mounted, then with a great effort he said:
+
+"Little miss, she go dead?"
+
+"Dead!" called out the doctor, glancing at the open window.  "Why,
+bless your old copper carcass, no!  Gwen will show you yet how to
+rope a steer."
+
+Joe took a step nearer, and lowering his tone said:
+
+"You speak me true?  Me man, Me no papoose."  The piercing black
+eyes searched the doctor's face.  The doctor hesitated a moment,
+and then, with an air of great candor, said cheerily:
+
+"That's all right, Joe.  Miss Gwen will cut circles round your old
+cayuse yet.  But remember," and the doctor was very impressive,
+"you must make her laugh every day."
+
+Joe folded his arms across his breast and stood like a statue till
+the doctor rode away; then turning to us he grunted out:
+
+"Him good man, eh?"
+
+"Good man," answered The Duke, adding, "but remember, Joe, what he
+told you to do.  Must make her laugh every day."
+
+Poor Joe!  Humor was not his forte, and his attempt in this
+direction in the weeks that followed would have been humorous were
+they not so pathetic.  How I did my part I cannot tell.  Those
+weeks are to me now like the memory of an ugly nightmare.  The
+ghostly old man moving out and in of his little daughter's room
+in useless, dumb agony; Ponka's woe-stricken Indian face; Joe's
+extraordinary and unusual but loyal attempts at fun-making
+grotesquely sad, and The Duke's unvarying and invincible
+cheeriness; these furnish light and shade for the picture my
+memory brings me of Gwen in those days.
+
+For the first two weeks she was simply heroic.  She bore her pain
+without a groan, submitted to the imprisonment which was harder
+than pain with angelic patience.  Joe, The Duke and I carried out
+our instructions with careful exactness to the letter.  She never
+doubted, and we never let her doubt but that in a few weeks she
+would be on the pinto's back again and after the cattle.  She made
+us pass our word for this till it seemed as if she must have read
+the falsehoods on our brows.
+
+"To lie cheerfully with her eyes upon one's face calls for more
+than I possess," said The Duke one day.  "The doctor should supply
+us tonics.  It is an arduous task."
+
+And she believed us absolutely, and made plans for the fall "round-
+up," and for hunts and rides till one's heart grew sick.  As to the
+ethical problem involved, I decline to express an opinion, but we
+had no need to wait for our punishment.  Her trust in us, her eager
+and confident expectation of the return of her happy, free, outdoor
+life; these brought to us, who knew how vain they were, their own
+adequate punishment for every false assurance we gave.  And how
+bright and brave she was those first days!  How resolute to get
+back to the world of air and light outside!
+
+But she had need of all her brightness and courage and resolution
+before she was done with her long fight.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+GWEN'S CANYON
+
+
+Gwen's hope and bright courage, in spite of all her pain, were
+wonderful to witness.  But all this cheery hope and courage and
+patience snuffed out as a candle, leaving noisome darkness to
+settle down in that sick-room from the day of the doctor's
+consultation.
+
+The verdict was clear and final.  The old doctor, who loved Gwen as
+his own, was inclined to hope against hope, but Fawcett, the clever
+young doctor from the distant town, was positive in his opinion.
+The scene is clear to me now, after many years.  We three stood in
+the outer room; The Duke and her father were with Gwen.  So earnest
+was the discussion that none of us heard the door open just as
+young Fawcett was saying in incisive tones:
+
+"No! I can see no hope.  The child can never walk again."
+
+There was a cry behind us.
+
+"What!  Never walk again!  It's a lie!"  There stood the Old Timer,
+white, fierce, shaking.
+
+"Hush!" said the old doctor, pointing at the open door.  He was too
+late.  Even as he spoke, there came from the inner room a wild,
+unearthly cry as of some dying thing and, as we stood gazing at one
+another with awe-stricken faces, we heard Gwen's voice as in quick,
+sharp pain.
+
+"Daddy! daddy! come!  What do they say?  Tell me, daddy.  It is not
+true!  It is not true!  Look at me, daddy!"
+
+She pulled up her father's haggard face from the bed.
+
+"Oh, daddy, daddy, you know it's true.  Never walk again!"
+
+She turned with a pitiful cry to The Duke, who stood white and
+stiff with arms drawn tight across his breast on the other side of
+the bed.
+
+"Oh, Duke, did you hear them?  You told me to be brave, and I tried
+not to cry when they hurt me.  But I can't be brave!  Can I, Duke?
+Oh, Duke!  Never to ride again!"
+
+She stretched out her hands to him.  But The Duke, leaning over her
+and holding her hands fast in his, could only say brokenly over and
+over:  "Don't, Gwen!  Don't, Gwen dear!"
+
+But the pitiful, pleading voice went on.
+
+"Oh, Duke!  Must I always lie here?  Must, I?  Why must I?"
+
+"God knows," answered The Duke bitterly, under his breath, "I
+don't!"
+
+She caught at the word.
+
+"Does He?" she cried, eagerly.  Then she paused suddenly, turned to
+me and said:  "Do you remember he said some day I could not do as I
+liked?"
+
+I was puzzled.
+
+"The Pilot," she cried, impatiently, "don't you remember?  And I
+said I should do as I liked till I died."
+
+I nodded my head and said:  "But you know you didn't mean it."
+
+"But I did, and I do," she cried, with passionate vehemence, "and I
+will do as I like!  I will not lie here!  I will ride!  I will! I
+will! I will!" and she struggled up, clenched her fists, and sank
+back faint and weak.  It was not a pleasant sight, but gruesome.
+Her rage against that Unseen Omnipotence was so defiant and so
+helpless.
+
+Those were dreadful weeks to Gwen and to all about her.  The
+constant pain could not break her proud spirit; she shed no tears;
+but she fretted and chafed and grew more imperiously exacting every
+day.  Ponka and Joe she drove like a slave master, and even her
+father, when he could not understand her wishes, she impatiently
+banished from her room.  Only The Duke could please or bring her
+any cheer, and even The Duke began to feel that the day was not far
+off when he, too, would fail, and the thought made him despair.
+Her pain was hard to bear, but harder than the pain was her longing
+for the open air and the free, flower-strewn, breeze-swept prairie.
+But most pitiful of all were the days when, in her utter weariness
+and uncontrollable unrest, she would pray to be taken down into the
+canyon.
+
+"Oh, it is so cool and shady," she would plead, "and the flowers up
+in the rocks and the vines and things are all so lovely.  I am
+always better there.  I know I should be better," till The Duke
+would be distracted and would come to me and wonder what the end
+would be.
+
+One day, when the strain had been more terrible than usual, The
+Duke rode down to me and said:
+
+"Look here, this thing can't go on.  Where is The Pilot gone?  Why
+doesn't he stay where he belongs?  I wish to Heaven he would get
+through with his absurd rambling."
+
+"He's gone where he was sent," I replied shortly.  "You don't set
+much store by him when he does come round.  He is gone on an
+exploring trip through the Dog Lake country.  He'll be back by the
+end of next week."
+
+"I say, bring him up, for Heaven's sake," said The Duke, "he may be
+of some use, and anyway it will be a new face for her, poor child."
+Then he added, rather penitently:  "I fear this thing is getting on
+to my nerves.  She almost drove me out to-day.  Don't lay it up
+against me, old chap."
+
+It was a new thing to hear The Duke confess his need of any man,
+much less penitence for a fault.  I felt my eyes growing dim, but I
+said, roughly:
+
+"You be hanged!  I'll bring The Pilot up when he comes."
+
+It was wonderful how we had all come to confide in The Pilot during
+his year of missionary work among us.  Somehow the cowboy's name of
+"Sky Pilot" seemed to express better than anything else the place
+he held with us.  Certain it is, that when, in their dark hours,
+any of the fellows felt in need of help to strike the "upward
+trail," they went to The Pilot; and so the name first given in
+chaff came to be the name that expressed most truly the deep and
+tender feeling these rough, big-hearted men cherished for him.
+When The Pilot came home I carefully prepared him for his trial,
+telling all that Gwen had suffered and striving to make him feel
+how desperate was her case when even The Duke had to confess
+himself beaten.  He did not seem sufficiently impressed.  Then I
+pictured for him all her fierce wilfulness and her fretful humors,
+her impatience with those who loved her and were wearing out their
+souls and bodies for her.  "In short," I concluded, "she doesn't
+care a rush for anything in heaven or earth, and will yield to
+neither man nor God."
+
+The Pilot's eyes had been kindling as I talked, but he only
+answered, quietly:
+
+"What could you expect?"
+
+"Well, I do think she might show some signs of gratitude and some
+gentleness towards those ready to die for her."
+
+"Oh, you do!" said he, with high scorn.  "You all combine to ruin
+her temper and disposition with foolish flattery and weak yielding
+to her whims, right or wrong; you smile at her imperious pride and
+encourage her wilfulness, and then not only wonder at the results,
+but blame her, poor child, for all.  Oh, you are a fine lot, The
+Duke and all of you!"
+
+He had a most exasperating ability for putting one in the wrong,
+and I could only think of the proper and sufficient reply long
+after the opportunity for making it had passed.  I wondered what
+The Duke would say to this doctrine.  All the following day, which
+was Sunday, I could see that Gwen was on The Pilot's mind.  He was
+struggling with the problem of pain.
+
+Monday morning found us on the way to the Old Timer's ranch.  And
+what a morning it was!  How beautiful our world seemed!  About us
+rolled the round-topped, velvet hills, brown and yellow or faintly
+green, spreading out behind us to the broad prairie, and before,
+clambering up and up to meet the purple bases of the great
+mountains that lay their mighty length along the horizon and thrust
+up white, sunlit peaks into the blue sky.  On the hillsides and
+down in the sheltering hollows we could see the bunches of cattle
+and horses feeding upon the rich grasses.  High above, the sky,
+cloudless and blue, arched its great kindly roof from prairie to
+mountain peaks, and over all, above, below, upon prairie, hillsides
+and mountains, the sun poured his floods of radiant yellow light.
+
+As we followed the trail that wound up and into the heart of these
+rounded hills and ever nearer to the purple mountains, the morning
+breeze swept down to meet us, bearing a thousand scents, and
+filling us with its own fresh life.  One can know the quickening
+joyousness of these Foothill breezes only after he has drunk with
+wide-open mouth, deep and full of them.
+
+Through all this mingling beauty of sunlit hills and shady hollows
+and purple, snow-peaked mountains, we rode with hardly a word,
+every minute adding to our heart-filling delight, but ever with the
+thought of the little room where, shut in from all this outside
+glory, lay Gwen, heart-sore with fretting and longing.  This must
+have been in The Pilot's mind, for he suddenly held up his horse
+and burst out:
+
+"Poor Gwen, how she loves all this!--it is her very life.  How can
+she help fretting the heart out of her?  To see this no more!"  He
+flung himself off his bronco and said, as if thinking aloud:  "It is
+too awful!  Oh, it is cruel!  I don't wonder at her!  God help me,
+what can I say to her?"
+
+He threw himself down upon the grass and turned over on his face.
+After a few minutes he appealed to me, and his face was sorely
+troubled.
+
+"How can one go to her?  It seems to me sheerest mockery to speak
+of patience and submission to a wild young thing from whom all this
+is suddenly snatched forever--and this was very life to her, too,
+remember."
+
+Then he sprang up and we rode hard for an hour, till we came to the
+mouth of the canyon.  Here the trail grew difficult and we came to
+a walk.  As we went down into the cool depths the spirit of the
+canyon came to meet us and took The Pilot in its grip.  He rode in
+front, feasting his eyes on all the wonders in that storehouse of
+beauty.  Trees of many kinds deepened the shadows of the canyon.
+Over us waved the big elms that grew up here and there out of the
+bottom, and around their feet clustered low cedars and hemlocks and
+balsams, while the sturdy, rugged oaks and delicate, trembling
+poplars clung to the rocky sides and clambered up and out to the
+canyon's sunny lips.  Back of all, the great black rocks, decked
+with mossy bits and clinging things, glistened cool and moist
+between the parting trees.  From many an oozy nook the dainty
+clematis and columbine shook out their bells, and, lower down, from
+beds of many-colored moss the late wind-flower and maiden-hair and
+tiny violet lifted up brave, sweet faces.  And through the canyon
+the Little Swan sang its song to rocks and flowers and overhanging
+trees, a song of many tones, deep-booming where it took its first
+sheer plunge, gay-chattering where it threw itself down the ragged
+rocks, and soft-murmuring where it lingered about the roots of the
+loving, listening elms.  A cool, sweet, soothing place it was, with
+all its shades and sounds and silences, and, lest it should be sad
+to any, the sharp, quick sunbeams danced and laughed down through
+all its leaves upon mosses, flowers and rocks.  No wonder that The
+Pilot, drawing a deep breath as he touched the prairie sod again,
+said:
+
+"That does me good.  It is better at times even than the sunny
+hills.  This was Gwen's best spot."
+
+I saw that the canyon had done its work with him.  His face was
+strong and calm as the hills on a summer morning, and with this
+face he looked in upon Gwen.  It was one of her bad days and one of
+her bad moods, but like a summer breeze he burst into the little
+room.
+
+"Oh, Gwen!" he cried, without a word of greeting, much less of
+Commiseration, "we have had such a ride!"  And he spread out the
+sunlit, round-topped hills before her, till I could feel their very
+breezes in my face.  This The Duke had never dared to do, fearing
+to grieve her with pictures of what she should look upon no more.
+But, as The Pilot talked, before she knew, Gwen was out again upon
+her beloved hills, breathing their fresh, sunny air, filling her
+heart with their multitudinous delights, till her eyes grew bright
+and the lines of fretting smoothed out of her face and she forgot
+her pain.  Then, before she could remember, he had her down into
+the canyon, feasting her heart with its airs and sights and sounds.
+The black, glistening rocks, tricked out with moss and trailing
+vines, the great elms and low green cedars, the oaks and shivering
+poplars, the clematis and columbine hanging from the rocky nooks,
+and the violets and maiden-hair deep bedded in their mosses.  All
+this and far more he showed her with a touch so light as not to
+shake the morning dew from bell or leaf or frond, and with a voice
+so soft and full of music as to fill our hearts with the canyon's
+mingling sounds, and, as I looked upon her face, I said to myself:
+"Dear old Pilot! for this I shall always love you well."  As poor
+Gwen listened, the rapture of it drew the big tears down her
+cheeks--alas! no longer brown, but white, and for that day at least
+the dull, dead weariness was lifted from her heart.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE CANYON FLOWERS
+
+
+The Pilot's first visit to Gwen had been a triumph.  But none knew
+better than he that the fight was still to come, for deep in Gwen's
+heart were thoughts whose pain made her forget all other.
+
+"Was it God let me fall?" she asked abruptly one day, and The Pilot
+knew the fight was on; but he only answered, looking fearlessly
+into her eyes:
+
+"Yes, Gwen dear."
+
+"Why did He let me fall?" and her voice was very deliberate.
+
+"I don't know, Gwen dear," said The Pilot steadily.  "He knows."
+
+"And does He know I shall never ride again?  Does He know how long
+the days are, and the nights when I can't sleep?  Does He know?"
+
+"Yes, Gwen dear," said The Pilot, and the tears were standing in
+his eyes, though his voice was still steady enough.
+
+"Are you sure He knows?"  The voice was painfully intense.
+
+"Listen to me, Gwen," began The Pilot, in great distress, but she
+cut him short.
+
+"Are you quite sure He knows?  Answer me!" she cried, with her old
+imperiousness.
+
+"Yes, Gwen, He knows all about you."
+
+"Then what do you think of Him, just because He's big and strong,
+treating a little girl that way?"  Then she added, viciously:  "I
+hate Him!  I don't care!  I hate Him!"
+
+But The Pilot did not wince.  I wondered how he would solve that
+problem that was puzzling, not only Gwen, but her father and The
+Duke, and all of us--the WHY of human pain.
+
+"Gwen," said The Pilot, as if changing the subject, "did it hurt to
+put on the plaster jacket?"
+
+"You just bet!" said Gwen, lapsing in her English, as The Duke was
+not present; "it was worse than anything--awful!  They had to
+straighten me out, you know," and she shuddered at the memory of
+that pain.
+
+"What a pity your father or The Duke was not here!" said The Pilot,
+earnestly.
+
+"Why, they were both here!"
+
+"What a cruel shame!" burst out The Pilot.  "Don't they care for
+you any more?"
+
+"Of course they do," said Gwen, indignantly.
+
+"Why didn't they stop the doctors from hurting you so cruelly?"
+
+"Why, they let the doctors.  It is going to help me to sit up and
+perhaps to walk about a little," answered Gwen, with blue-gray eyes
+open wide.
+
+"Oh," said The Pilot, "it was very mean to stand by and see you
+hurt like that."
+
+"Why, you silly," replied Owen, impatiently, "they want my back to
+get straight and strong."
+
+"Oh, then they didn't do it just for fun or for nothing?" said The
+Pilot, innocently.
+
+Gwen gazed at him in amazed and speechless wrath, and he went on:
+
+"I mean they love you though they let you be hurt; or rather they
+let the doctors hurt you BECAUSE they loved you and wanted to make
+you better."
+
+Gwen kept her eyes fixed with curious earnestness upon his face
+till the light began to dawn.
+
+"Do you mean," she began slowly, "that though God let me fall, He
+loves me?"
+
+The Pilot nodded; he could not trust his voice.
+
+"I wonder if that can be true," she said, as if to herself; and
+soon we said good-by and came away--The Pilot, limp and voiceless,
+but I triumphant, for I began to see a little light for Gwen.
+
+But the fight was by no means over; indeed, it was hardly well
+begun.  For when the autumn came, with its misty, purple days, most
+glorious of all days in the cattle country, the old restlessness
+came back and the fierce refusal of her lot.  Then came the day of
+the round-up.  Why should she have to stay while all went after the
+cattle?  The Duke would have remained, but she impatiently sent him
+away.  She was weary and heart-sick, and, worst of all, she began
+to feel that most terrible of burdens, the burden of her life to
+others.  I was much relieved when The Pilot came in fresh and
+bright, waving a bunch of wild-flowers in his hand.
+
+"I thought they were all gone," he cried.  "Where do you think I
+found them?  Right down by the big elm root," and, though he saw by
+the settled gloom of her face that the storm was coming, he went
+bravely on picturing the canyon in all the splendor of its autumn
+dress.  But the spell would not work.  Her heart was out on the
+sloping hills, where the cattle were bunching and crowding with
+tossing heads and rattling horns, and it was in a voice very bitter
+and impatient that she cried:
+
+"Oh, I am sick of all this!  I want to ride!  I want to see the
+cattle and the men and--and--and all the things outside."  The
+Pilot was cowboy enough to know the longing that tugged at her
+heart for one wild race after the calves or steers, but he could
+only say:
+
+"Wait, Gwen.  Try to be patient."
+
+"I am patient; at least I have been patient for two whole months,
+and it's no use, and I don't believe God cares one bit!"
+
+"Yes, He does, Gwen, more than any of us," replied The Pilot,
+earnestly.
+
+"No, He does not care," she answered, with angry emphasis, and The
+Pilot made no reply.
+
+"Perhaps," she went on, hesitatingly, "He's angry because I said I
+didn't care for Him, you remember?  That was very wicked.  But
+don't you think I'm punished nearly enough now?  You made me very
+angry, and I didn't really mean it."
+
+Poor Gwen!  God had grown to be very real to her during these weeks
+of pain, and very terrible.  The Pilot looked down a moment into
+the blue-gray eyes, grown so big and so pitiful, and hurriedly
+dropping on his knees beside the bed he said, in a very unsteady
+voice:
+
+"Oh, Gwen, Gwen, He's not like that.  Don't you remember how Jesus
+was with the poor sick people?  That's what He's like."
+
+"Could Jesus make me well?"
+
+"Yes, Gwen."
+
+"Then why doesn't He?" she asked; and there was no impatience now,
+but only trembling anxiety as she went on in a timid voice:  "I
+asked Him to, over and over, and said I would wait two months, and
+now it's more than three.  Are you quite sure He hears now?"  She
+raised herself on her elbow and gazed searchingly into The Pilot's
+face.  I was glad it was not into mine.  As she uttered the words,
+"Are you quite sure?" one felt that things were in the balance.  I
+could not help looking at The Pilot with intense anxiety.  What
+would he answer?  The Pilot gazed out of the window upon the hills
+for a few moments.  How long the silence seemed!  Then, turning,
+looked into the eyes that searched his so steadily and answered
+simply:
+
+"Yes, Gwen, I am quite sure!"  Then, with quick inspiration, he got
+her mother's Bible and said:  "Now, Gwen, try to see it as I read."
+But, before he read, with the true artist's instinct he created the
+proper atmosphere.  By a few vivid words he made us feel the
+pathetic loneliness of the Man of Sorrows in His last sad days.
+Then he read that masterpiece of all tragic picturing, the story of
+Gethsemane.  And as he read we saw it all.  The garden and the
+trees and the sorrow-stricken Man alone with His mysterious agony.
+We heard the prayer so pathetically submissive and then, for
+answer, the rabble and the traitor.
+
+Gwen was far too quick to need explanation, and The Pilot only
+said, "You see, Gwen, God gave nothing but the best--to His own Son
+only the best."
+
+"The best?  They took Him away, didn't they?"  She knew the story
+well.
+
+"Yes, but listen."  He turned the leaves rapidly and read:  "'We see
+Jesus for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor.'
+That is how He got His Kingdom."
+
+Gwen listened silent but unconvinced, and then said slowly:
+
+"But how can this be best for me?  I am no use to anyone.  It can't
+be best to just lie here and make them all wait on me, and--and--I
+did want to help daddy--and--oh--I know they will get tired of me!
+They are getting tired already--I--I--can't help being hateful."
+
+She was by this time sobbing as I had never heard her before--deep,
+passionate sobs.  Then again the Pilot had an inspiration.
+
+"Now, Gwen," he said severely, "you know we're not as mean as that,
+and that you are just talking nonsense, every word.  Now I'm going
+to smooth out your red hair and tell you a story."
+
+"It's NOT red," she cried, between her sobs.  This was her sore
+point.
+
+"It is red, as red can be; a beautiful, shining purple RED," said
+The Pilot emphatically, beginning to brush.
+
+"Purple!" cried Gwen, scornfully.
+
+"Yes, I've seen it in the sun, purple.  Haven't you?" said The
+Pilot, appealing to me.  "And my story is about the canyon, our
+canyon, your canyon, down there."
+
+"Is it true?" asked Gwen, already soothed by the cool, quick-moving
+hands.
+
+"True?  It's as true as--as--" he glanced round the room, "as the
+Pilgrim's Progress."  This was satisfactory, and the story went on.
+
+"At first there were no canyons, but only the broad, open prairie.
+One day the Master of the Prairie, walking out over his great
+lawns, where were only grasses, asked the Prairie, 'Where are your
+flowers?' and the Prairie said, 'Master, I have no seeds.'  Then he
+spoke to the birds, and they carried seeds of every kind of flower
+and strewed them far and wide, and soon the Prairie bloomed with
+crocuses and roses and buffalo beans and the yellow crowfoot and
+the wild sunflowers and the red lilies all the summer long.  Then
+the Master came and was well pleased; but he missed the flowers he
+loved best of all, and he said to the Prairie:  'Where are the
+clematis and the columbine, the sweet violets and wind flowers, and
+all the ferns and flowering shrubs?'  And again he spoke to the
+birds, and again they carried all the seeds and strewed them far
+and wide.  But, again, when the Master came, he could not find the
+flowers he loved best of all, and he said:  'Where are those, my
+sweetest flowers?' and the Prairie cried sorrowfully:  'Oh, Master,
+I cannot keep the flowers, for the winds sweep fiercely, and the
+sun beats upon my breast, and they wither up and fly away.'  Then
+the Master spoke to the Lightning, and with one swift blow the
+Lightning cleft the Prairie to the heart.  And the Prairie rocked
+and groaned in agony, and for many a day moaned bitterly over its
+black, jagged, gaping wound.  But the Little Swan poured its waters
+through the cleft, and carried down deep black mould, and once more
+the birds carried seeds and strewed them in the canyon.  And after
+a long time the rough rocks were decked out with soft mosses and
+trailing vines, and all the nooks were hung with clematis and
+columbine, and great elms lifted their huge tops high up into the
+sunlight, and down about their feet clustered the low cedars and
+balsams, and everywhere the violets and wind-flower and maiden-hair
+grew and bloomed, till the canyon became the Masters place for rest
+and peace and joy."
+
+The quaint tale was ended, and Gwen lay quiet for some moments,
+then said gently:
+
+"Yes!  The canyon flowers are much the best.  Tell me what it
+means."
+
+Then The Pilot read to her:  "The fruits--I'll read 'flowers'--
+of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness,
+goodness, faith, meekness, self-control, and some of these grow
+only in the canyon."
+
+"Which are the canyon flowers?" asked Gwen softly, and The Pilot
+answered:
+
+"Gentleness, meekness, self-control; but though the others, love,
+joy, peace, bloom in the open, yet never with so rich a bloom and
+so sweet a perfume as in the canyon."
+
+For a long time Gwen lay quite still, and then said wistfully,
+while her lip trembled:
+
+"There are no flowers in my canyon, but only ragged rocks."
+
+"Some day they will bloom, Gwen dear; He will find them, and we,
+too, shall see them."
+
+Then he said good-by and took me away.  He had done his work that
+day.
+
+We rode through the big gate, down the sloping hill, past the
+smiling, twinkling little lake, and down again out of the broad
+sunshine into the shadows and soft lights of the canyon.  As we
+followed the trail that wound among the elms and cedars, the very
+air was full of gentle stillness; and as we moved we seemed to feel
+the touch of loving hands that lingered while they left us, and
+every flower and tree and vine and shrub and the soft mosses and
+the deep-bedded ferns whispered, as we passed, of love and peace
+and joy.
+
+To The Duke it was all a wonder, for as the days shortened outside
+they brightened inside; and every day, and more and more Gwen's
+room became the brightest spot in all the house, and when he asked
+The Pilot:
+
+"What did you do to the Little Princess, and what's all this about
+the canyon and its flowers?"  The Pilot said, looking wistfully
+into The Duke's eyes:
+
+"The fruits of the Spirit are love, peace, long-suffering,
+gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, self-control, and some of
+these are found only in the canyon," and The Duke, standing up
+straight, handsome and strong, looked back at The Pilot and said,
+putting out his hand:
+
+"Do you know, I believe you're right."
+
+"Yes, I'm quite sure," answered The Pilot, simply.  Then, holding
+The Duke's hand as long as one man dare hold another's, he added:
+"When you come to your canyon, remember."
+
+"When I come!" said The Duke, and a quick spasm of pain passed over
+his handsome face--"God help me, it's not too far away now."  Then
+he smiled again his old, sweet smile, and said:
+
+"Yes, you are all right, for, of all flowers I have seen, none are
+fairer or sweeter than those that are waving in Gwen's Canyon."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BILL'S BLUFF
+
+
+The Pilot had set his heart upon the building of a church in the
+Swan Creek district, partly because he was human and wished to set
+a mark of remembrance upon the country, but more because he held
+the sensible opinion, that a congregation, as a man, must have a
+home if it is to stay.
+
+All through the summer he kept setting this as an object at once
+desirable and possible to achieve.  But few were found to agree
+with him.
+
+Little Mrs. Muir was of the few, and she was not to be despised,
+but her influence was neutralized by the solid immobility of her
+husband.  He had never done anything sudden in his life.  Every
+resolve was the result of a long process of mind, and every act of
+importance had to be previewed from all possible points.  An honest
+man, strongly religious, and a great admirer of The Pilot, but
+slow-moving as a glacier, although with plenty of fire in him deep
+down.
+
+"He's soond at the hairt, ma man Robbie," his wife said to The
+Pilot, who was fuming and fretting at the blocking of his plans,
+"but he's terrible deleeberate.  Bide ye a bit, laddie.  He'll come
+tae."
+
+"But meantime the summer's going and nothing will be done," was The
+Pilot's distressed and impatient answer.
+
+So a meeting was called to discuss the question of building a
+church, with the result that the five men and three women present
+decided that for the present nothing could be done.  This was
+really Robbie's opinion, though he refused to do or say anything
+but grunt, as The Pilot said to me afterwards, in a rage.  It is
+true, Williams, the storekeeper just come from "across the line,"
+did all the talking, but no one paid much attention to his fluent
+fatuities except as they represented the unexpressed mind of the
+dour, exasperating little Scotchman, who sat silent but for an "ay"
+now and then, so expressive and conclusive that everyone knew what
+he meant, and that discussion was at an end.  The schoolhouse was
+quite sufficient for the present; the people were too few and too
+poor and they were getting on well under the leadership of their
+present minister.  These were the arguments which Robbie's "ay"
+stamped as quite unanswerable.
+
+It was a sore blow to The Pilot, who had set his heart upon a
+church, and neither Mrs; Muir's "hoots" at her husband's slowness
+nor her promises that she "wad mak him hear it" could bring comfort
+or relieve his gloom.
+
+In this state of mind he rode up with me to pay our weekly visit to
+the little girl shut up in her lonely house among the hills.
+
+It had become The Pilot's custom during these weeks to turn for
+cheer to that little room, and seldom was he disappointed.  She was
+so bright, so brave, so cheery, and so full of fun, that gloom
+faded from her presence as mist before the sun, and impatience was
+shamed into content.
+
+Gwen's bright face--it was almost always bright now--and her bright
+welcome did something for The Pilot, but the feeling of failure was
+upon him, and failure to his enthusiastic nature was worse than
+pain.  Not that he confessed either to failure or gloom; he was far
+too true a man for that; but Gwen felt his depression in spite of
+all his brave attempts at brightness, and insisted that he was ill,
+appealing to me.
+
+"Oh, it's only his church," I said, proceeding to give her an
+account of Robbie Muir's silent, solid inertness, and how he had
+blocked The Pilot's scheme.
+
+"What a shame!" cried Gwen, indignantly.  "What a bad man he must
+be!"
+
+The Pilot smiled.  "No, indeed," he answered; "why, he's the best
+man in the place, but I wish he would say or do something.  If he
+would only get mad and swear I think I should feel happier."
+
+Gwen looked quite mystified.
+
+"You see, he sits there in solemn silence looking so tremendously
+wise that most men feel foolish if they speak, while as for doing
+anything the idea appears preposterous, in the face of his
+immovableness."
+
+"I can't bear him!" cried Gwen.  "I should like to stick pins in
+him."
+
+"I wish some one would," answered The Pilot.  "It would make him
+seem more human if he could be made to jump."
+
+"Try again," said Gwen, "and get someone to make him jump."
+
+"It would be easier to build the church," said The Pilot, gloomily.
+
+"I could make him jump," said Gwen, viciously, "and I WILL," she
+added, after a pause.
+
+"You!" answered The Pilot, opening his eyes.  "How?"
+
+"I'll find some way," she replied, resolutely.
+
+And so she did, for when the next meeting was called to consult as
+to the building of a church, the congregation, chiefly of farmers
+and their wives, with Williams, the storekeeper, were greatly
+surprised to see Bronco Bill, Hi, and half a dozen ranchers and
+cowboys walk in at intervals and solemnly seat themselves.  Robbie
+looked at them with surprise and a little suspicion.  In church
+matters he had no dealings with the Samaritans from the hills, and
+while, in their unregenerate condition, they might be regarded as
+suitable objects of missionary effort, as to their having any part
+in the direction, much less control, of the church policy--from
+such a notion Robbie was delivered by his loyal adherence to the
+scriptural injunction that he should not cast pearls before swine.
+
+The Pilot, though surprised to see Bill and the cattle men, was
+none the less delighted, and faced the meeting with more confidence.
+He stated the question for discussion:  Should a church building be
+erected this summer in Swan Creek? and he put his case well.  He
+showed the need of a church for the sake of the congregation, for
+the sake of the men in the district, the families growing up, the
+incoming settlers, and for the sake of the country and its future.
+He called upon all who loved their church and their country to unite
+in this effort.  It was an enthusiastic appeal and all the women and
+some of the men were at once upon his side.
+
+Then followed dead, solemn silence.  Robbie was content to wait
+till the effect of the speech should be dissipated in smaller talk.
+Then he gravely said:
+
+"The kirk wad be a gran' thing, nae doot, an' they wad a'
+dootless"--with a suspicious glance toward Bill--"rejoice in its
+erection.  But we maun be cautious, an' I wad like to enquire hoo
+much money a kirk cud be built for, and whaur the money wad come
+frae?"
+
+The Pilot was ready with his answer.  The cost would be $1,200.
+The Church Building Fund would contribute $200, the people could
+give $300 in labor, and the remaining $700 he thought could be
+raised in the district in two years' time.
+
+"Ay," said Robbie, and the tone and manner were sufficient to
+drench any enthusiasm with the chilliest of water.  So much was
+this the case that the chairman, Williams, seemed quite justified
+in saying:
+
+"It is quite evident that the opinion of the meeting is adverse to
+any attempt to load the community with a debt of one thousand
+dollars," and he proceeded with a very complete statement of the
+many and various objections to any attempt at building a church
+this year.  The people were very few, they were dispersed over a
+large area, they were not interested sufficiently, they were all
+spending money and making little in return; he supposed, therefore,
+that the meeting might adjourn.
+
+Robbie sat silent and expressionless in spite of his little wife's
+anxious whispers and nudges.  The Pilot looked the picture of woe,
+and was on the point of bursting forth, when the meeting was
+startled by Bill.
+
+"Say, boys! they hain't much stuck on their shop, heh?"  The low,
+drawling voice was perfectly distinct and arresting.
+
+"Hain't got no use for it, seemingly," was the answer from the dark
+corner.
+
+"Old Scotchie takes his religion out in prayin', I guess," drawled
+in Bill, "but wants to sponge for his plant."
+
+This reference to Robbie's proposal to use the school moved the
+youngsters to tittering and made the little Scotchman squirm, for
+he prided himself upon his independence.
+
+"There ain't $700 in the hull blanked outfit."  This was a
+stranger's voice, and again Robbie squirmed, for he rather prided
+himself also on his ability to pay his way.
+
+"No good!" said another emphatic voice.  "A blanked lot o' psalm-
+singing snipes."
+
+"Order, order!" cried the chairman.
+
+"Old Windbag there don't see any show for swipin' the collection,
+with Scotchie round," said Hi, with a following ripple of quiet
+laughter, for Williams' reputation was none too secure.
+
+Robbie was in a most uncomfortable state of mind.  So unusually
+stirred was he that for the first time in his history he made a
+motion.
+
+"I move we adjourn, Mr. Chairman," he said, in a voice which
+actually vibrated with emotion.
+
+"Different here! eh, boys?" drawled Bill.
+
+"You bet," said Hi, in huge delight.  "The meetin' ain't out yit."
+
+"Ye can bide till mor-r-nin'," said Robbie, angrily.  "A'm gaen
+hame," beginning to put on his coat.
+
+"Seems as if he orter give the password," drawled Bill.
+
+"Right you are, pardner," said Hi, springing to the door and
+waiting in delighted expectation for his friend's lead.
+
+Robbie looked at the door, then at his wife, hesitated a moment, I
+have no doubt wishing her home.  Then Bill stood up and began to
+speak.
+
+"Mr. Chairman, I hain't been called on for any remarks--"
+
+"Go on!" yelled his friends from the dark corner.  "Hear! hear!"
+
+"An' I didn't feel as if this war hardly my game, though The Pilot
+ain't mean about invitin' a feller on Sunday afternoons.  But them
+as runs the shop don't seem to want us fellers round too much."
+
+Robbie was gazing keenly at Bill, and here shook his head,
+muttering angrily:  "Hoots, nonsense! ye're welcome eneuch."
+
+"But," went on Bill, slowly, "I guess I've been on the wrong track.
+I've been a-cherishin' the opinion" ["Hear! hear!" yelled his
+admirers], "cherishin' the opinion," repeated Bill, "that these
+fellers," pointing to Robbie, "was stuck on religion, which I ain't
+much myself, and reely consarned about the blocking ov the devil,
+which The Pilot says can't be did without a regular Gospel factory.
+O' course, it tain't any biznis ov mine, but if us fellers was
+reely only sot on anything condoocin'," ["Hear! hear!" yelled Hi,
+in ecstasy], "condoocin'," repeated Bill slowly and with relish,
+"to the good ov the Order" (Bill was a brotherhood man), "I b'lieve
+I know whar five hundred dollars mebbe cud per'aps be got."
+
+"You bet your sox," yelled the strange voice, in chorus with other
+shouts of approval.
+
+"O' course, I ain't no bettin' man," went on Bill, insinuatingly,
+"as a regular thing, but I'd gamble a few jist here on this pint;
+if the boys was stuck on anythin' costin' about seven hundred
+dollars, it seems to me likely they'd git it in about two days,
+per'aps."
+
+Here Robbie grunted out an "ay" of such fulness of contemptuous
+unbelief that Bill paused, and, looking over Robbie's head, he
+drawled out, even more slowly and mildly:
+
+"I ain't much given to bettin', as I remarked before, but, if a man
+shakes money at me on that proposition, I'd accommodate him to a
+limited extent."  ["Hear! hear! Bully boy!" yelled Hi again, from
+the door.]  "Not bein' too bold, I cherish the opinion" [again
+yells of approval from the corner], "that even for this here Gospel
+plant, seein' The Pilot's rather sot onto it, I b'lieve the boys
+could find five hundred dollars inside ov a month, if perhaps these
+fellers cud wiggle the rest out ov their pants."
+
+Then Robbie was in great wrath and, stung by the taunting, drawling
+voice beyond all self-command, he broke out suddenly:
+
+"Ye'll no can mak that guid, I doot."
+
+"D'ye mean I ain't prepared to back it up?"
+
+"Ay," said Robbie, grimly.
+
+'Tain't likely I'll be called on; I guess $500 is safe enough,"
+drawled Bill, cunningly drawing him on.  Then Robbie bit.
+
+"Oo ay!" said he, in a voice of quiet contempt, "the twa hunner
+wull be here and 'twull wait ye long eneuch, I'se warrant ye."
+
+Then Bill nailed him.
+
+"I hain't got my card case on my person," he said, with a slight
+grin.
+
+"Left it on the pianner," suggested Hi, who was in a state of great
+hilarity at Bill's success in drawing the Scottie.
+
+"But," Bill proceeded, recovering himself, and with increasing
+suavity, "if some gentleman would mark down the date of the almanac
+I cherish the opinion" [cheers from the corner] "that in one month
+from to-day there will be five hundred dollars lookin' round for
+two hundred on that there desk mebbe, or p'raps you would incline
+to two fifty," he drawled, in his most winning tone to Robbie, who
+was growing more impatient every moment.
+
+"Nae matter tae me.  Ye're haverin' like a daft loon, ony way."
+
+"You will make a memento of this slight transaction, boys, and
+per'aps the schoolmaster will write it down," said Bill.
+
+It was all carefully taken down, and amid much enthusiastic
+confusion the ranchers and their gang carried Bill off to Old
+Latour's to "licker up," while Robbie, in deep wrath but in dour
+silence, went off through the dark with his little wife following
+some paces behind him.  His chief grievance, however, was against
+the chairman for "allooin' sic a disorderly pack o' loons tae
+disturb respectable fowk," for he could not hide the fact that he
+had been made to break through his accustomed defence line of
+immovable silence.  I suggested, conversing with him next day upon
+the matter, that Bill was probably only chaffing.
+
+"Ay," said Robbie, in great disgust, "the daft eejut, he wad mak a
+fule o' onything or onybuddie."
+
+That was the sorest point with poor Robbie.  Bill had not only cast
+doubts upon his religious sincerity, which the little man could not
+endure, but he had also held him up to the ridicule of the
+community, which was painful to his pride.  But when he understood,
+some days later, that Bill was taking steps to back up his offer
+and had been heard to declare that "he'd make them pious ducks take
+water if he had to put up a year's pay," Robbie went quietly to
+work to make good his part of the bargain.  For his Scotch pride
+would not suffer him to refuse a challenge from such a quarter.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+BILL'S PARTNER
+
+
+The next day everyone was talking of Bill's bluffing the church
+people, and there was much quiet chuckling over the discomfiture of
+Robbie Muir and his party.
+
+The Pilot was equally distressed and bewildered, for Bill's
+conduct, so very unusual, had only one explanation--the usual one
+for any folly in that country.
+
+"I wish he had waited till after the meeting to go to Latour's.  He
+spoiled the last chance I had.  There's no use now," he said,
+sadly.
+
+"But he may do something," I suggested.
+
+"Oh, fiddle!" said The Pilot, contemptuously.  "He was only giving
+Muir 'a song and dance,' as he would say.  The whole thing is off."
+
+But when I told Gwen the story of the night's proceedings, she went
+into raptures over Bill's grave speech and his success in drawing
+the canny Scotchman.
+
+"Oh, lovely! dear old Bill and his 'cherished opinion.'  Isn't he
+just lovely?  Now he'll do something."
+
+"Who, Bill?"
+
+"No, that stupid Scottie."  This was her name for the immovable
+Robbie.
+
+"Not he, I'm afraid.  Of course Bill was just bluffing him.  But it
+was good sport."
+
+"Oh, lovely!  I knew he'd do something."
+
+"Who?  Scottie?" I asked, for her pronouns were perplexing.
+
+"No!" she cried, "Bill!  He promised he would, you know," she
+added.
+
+"So you were at the bottom of it?" I said, amazed.
+
+"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she kept crying, shrieking with laughter over
+Bill's cherishing opinions and desires.  "I shall be ill.  Dear old
+Bill.  He said he'd 'try to get a move on to him.'"
+
+Before I left that day, Bill himself came to the Old Timer's ranch,
+inquiring in a casual way "if the 'boss' was in."
+
+"Oh, Bill!" called out Gwen, "come in here at once; I want you."
+
+After some delay and some shuffling with hat and spurs, Bill
+lounged in and set his lank form upon the extreme end of a bench at
+the door, trying to look unconcerned as he remarked:  "Gittin' cold.
+Shouldn't wonder if we'd have a little snow."
+
+"Oh, come here," cried Gwen, impatiently, holding out her hand.
+"Come here and shake hands."
+
+Bill hesitated, spat out into the other room his quid of tobacco,
+and swayed awkwardly across the room toward the bed, and, taking
+Gwen's hand, he shook it up and down, and hurriedly said:
+
+"Fine day, ma'am; hope I see you quite well."
+
+"No; you don't," cried Gwen, laughing immoderately, but keeping
+hold of Bill's hand, to his great confusion.  "I'm not well a bit,
+but I'm a great deal better since hearing of your meeting, Bill."
+
+To this Bill made no reply, being entirely engrossed in getting his
+hard, bony, brown hand out of the grasp of the white, clinging
+fingers.
+
+"Oh, Bill," went on Gwen, "it was delightful!  How did you do it?"
+
+But Bill, who had by this time got back to his seat at the door,
+pretended ignorance of any achievement calling for remark.  He
+"hadn't done nothin' more out ov the way than usual."
+
+"Oh, don't talk nonsense!" cried Gwen, impatiently.  "Tell me how
+you got Scottie to lay you two hundred and fifty dollars."
+
+"Oh, that!" said Bill, in great surprise; "that ain't nuthin' much.
+Scottie riz slick enough."
+
+"But how did you get him?" persisted Gwen.  "Tell me, Bill," she
+added, in her most coaxing voice.
+
+"Well," said Bill, "it was easy as rollin' off a log.  I made the
+remark as how the boys ginerally put up for what they wanted
+without no fuss, and that if they was sot on havin' a Gospel shack
+I cherished the opinion"--here Gwen went off into a smothered
+shriek, which made Bill pause and look at her in alarm.
+
+"Go on," she gasped.
+
+"I cherished the opinion," drawled on Bill, while Gwen stuck her
+handkerchief into her mouth, "that mebbe they'd put up for it the
+seven hundred dollars, and, even as it was, seein' as The Pilot
+appeared to be sot on to it, if them fellers would find two hundred
+and fifty I cher--" another shriek from Gwen cut him suddenly
+short.
+
+"It's the rheumaticks, mebbe," said Bill, anxiously.  "Terrible bad
+weather for 'em.  I get 'em myself."
+
+"No, no," said Gwen, wiping away her tears and subduing her
+laughter.  "Go on, Bill."
+
+"There ain't no more," said Bill.  "He bit, and the master here put
+it down."
+
+"Yes, it's here right enough," I said, "but I don't suppose you
+mean to follow it up, do you?"
+
+"You don't, eh?  Well, I am not responsible for your supposin', but
+them that is familiar with Bronco Bill generally expects him to
+back up his undertakin's."
+
+"But how in the world can you get five hundred dollars from the
+cowboys for a church?"
+
+"I hain't done the arithmetic yet, but it's safe enough.  You see,
+it ain't the church altogether, it's the reputation of the boys."
+
+"I'll help, Bill," said Gwen.
+
+Bill nodded his head slowly and said:  "Proud to have you," trying
+hard to look enthusiastic.
+
+"You don't think I can," said Gwen.  Bill protested against such an
+imputation.  "But I can.  I'll get daddy and The Duke, too."
+
+"Good line!" said Bill, slapping his knee.
+
+"And I'll give all my money, too, but it isn't very much," she
+added, sadly.
+
+"Much!" said Bill, "if the rest of the fellows play up to that lead
+there won't be any trouble about that five hundred."
+
+Gwen was silent for some time, then said with an air of resolve:
+
+"I'll give my pinto!"
+
+"Nonsense!" I exclaimed, while Bill declared "there warn't no
+call."
+
+"Yes.  I'll give the Pinto!" said Gwen, decidedly.  "I'll not need
+him any more," her lips quivered, and Bill coughed and spat into
+the next room, "and besides, I want to give something I like.  And
+Bill will sell him for me!"
+
+"Well," said Bill, slowly, "now come to think, it'll be purty hard
+to sell that there pinto."  Gwen began to exclaim indignantly, and
+Bill hurried on to say, "Not but what he ain't a good leetle horse
+for his weight, good leetle horse, but for cattle--"
+
+"Why, Bill, there isn't a better cattle horse anywhere!"
+
+"Yes, that's so," assented Bill.  "That's so, if you've got the
+rider, but put one of them rangers on to him and it wouldn't be no
+fair show."  Bill was growing more convinced every moment that the
+pinto wouldn't sell to any advantage.  "Ye see," he explained
+carefully and cunningly, "he ain't a horse you could yank round and
+slam into a bunch of steers regardless."
+
+Gwen shuddered.  "Oh, I wouldn't think of selling him to any of
+those cowboys."  Bill crossed his legs and hitched round
+uncomfortably on his bench.  "I mean one of those rough fellows
+that don't know how to treat a horse."  Bill nodded, looking
+relieved.  "I thought that some one like you, Bill, who knew how to
+handle a horse--"
+
+Gwen paused, and then added:  "I'll ask The Duke."
+
+"No call for that," said Bill, hastily, "not but what The Dook
+ain't all right as a jedge of a horse, but The Dook ain't got the
+connection, it ain't his line."  Bill hesitated.  "But, if you are
+real sot on to sellin' that pinto, come to think I guess I could
+find a sale for him, though, of course, I think perhaps the figger
+won't be high."
+
+And so it was arranged that the pinto should be sold and that Bill
+should have the selling of it.
+
+It was characteristic of Gwen that she would not take farewell of
+the pony on whose back she had spent so many hours of freedom and
+delight.  When once she gave him up she refused to allow her heart
+to cling to him any more.
+
+It was characteristic, too, of Bill that he led off the pinto after
+night had fallen, so that "his pardner" might be saved the pain of
+the parting.
+
+"This here's rather a new game for me, but when my pardner," here
+he jerked his head towards Gwen's window, "calls for trumps, I'm
+blanked if I don't throw my highest, if it costs a leg."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+BILL'S FINANCING
+
+
+Bill's method of conducting the sale of the pinto was eminently
+successful as a financial operation, but there are those in the
+Swan Creek country who have never been able to fathom the mystery
+attaching to the affair.  It was at the fall round-up, the beef
+round-up, as it is called, which this year ended at the Ashley
+Ranch.  There were representatives from all the ranches and some
+cattle-men from across the line.  The hospitality of the Ashley
+Ranch was up to its own lofty standard, and, after supper, the men
+were in a state of high exhilaration.  The Hon. Fred and his wife,
+Lady Charlotte, gave themselves to the duties of their position as
+hosts for the day with a heartiness and grace beyond praise.  After
+supper the men gathered round the big fire, which was piled up
+before the long, low shed, which stood open in front.  It was a
+scene of such wild and picturesque interest as can only be
+witnessed in the western ranching country.  About the fire, most of
+them wearing "shaps" and all of them wide, hard-brimmed cowboy
+hats, the men grouped themselves, some reclining upon skins thrown
+upon the ground, some standing, some sitting, smoking, laughing,
+chatting, all in highest spirits and humor.  They had just got
+through with their season of arduous and, at times, dangerous toil.
+Their minds were full of their long, hard rides, their wild and
+varying experiences with mad cattle and bucking broncos, their
+anxious watchings through hot nights, when a breath of wind or a
+coyote's howl might set the herd off in a frantic stampede, their
+wolf hunts and badger fights and all the marvellous adventures that
+fill up a cowboy's summer.  Now these were all behind them.
+To-night they were free men and of independent means, for their
+season's pay was in their pockets.  The day's excitement, too, was
+still in their blood, and they were ready for anything.
+
+Bill, as king of the bronco-busters, moved about with the slow,
+careless indifference of a man sure of his position and sure of his
+ability to maintain it.
+
+He spoke seldom and slowly, was not as ready-witted as his partner,
+Hi Kendal, but in act he was swift and sure, and "in trouble" he
+could be counted on.  He was, as they said, "a white man; white to
+the back," which was understood to sum up the true cattle man's
+virtues.
+
+"Hello, Bill," said a friend, "where's Hi?  Hain't seen him
+around!"
+
+"Well, don't jest know.  He was going to bring up my pinto."
+
+"Your pinto?  What pinto's that?  You hain't got no pinto!"
+
+"Mebbe not," said Bill, slowly, "but I had the idee before you
+spoke that I had."
+
+"That so?  Whar'd ye git him?  Good for cattle?"  The crowd began
+to gather.
+
+Bill grew mysterious, and even more than usually reserved.
+
+"Good fer cattle!  Well, I ain't much on gamblin', but I've got a
+leetle in my pants that says that there pinto kin outwork any
+blanked bronco in this outfit, givin' him a fair show after the
+cattle."
+
+The men became interested.
+
+"Whar was he raised?"
+
+"Dunno."
+
+"Whar'd ye git him?  Across the line?"
+
+"No," said Bill stoutly, "right in this here country.  The Dook
+there knows him."
+
+This at once raised the pinto several points.  To be known, and,
+as Bill's tone indicated, favorably known by The Duke, was a
+testimonial to which any horse might aspire.
+
+"Whar'd ye git him, Bill?  Don't be so blanked oncommunicatin'!"
+said an impatient voice.
+
+Bill hesitated; then, with an apparent burst of confidence, he
+assumed his frankest manner and voice, and told his tale.
+
+"Well," he said, taking a fresh chew and offering his plug to his
+neighbor, who passed it on after helping himself, "ye see, it was
+like this.  Ye know that little Meredith gel?"
+
+Chorus of answers:  "Yes!  The red-headed one.  I know!  She's a
+daisy!--reg'lar blizzard!--lightnin' conductor!"
+
+Bill paused, stiffened himself a little, dropped his frank air and
+drawled out in cool, hard tones:  "I might remark that that young
+lady is, I might persoom to say, a friend of mine, which I'm
+prepared to back up in my best style, and if any blanked blanked
+son of a street sweeper has any remark to make, here's his time
+now!"
+
+In the pause that followed murmurs were heard extolling the many
+excellences of the young lady in question, and Bill, appeased,
+yielded to the requests for the continuance of his story, and, as
+he described Gwen and her pinto and her work on the ranch, the men,
+many of whom had had glimpses of her, gave emphatic approval in
+their own way.  But as he told of her rescue of Joe and of the
+sudden calamity that had befallen her a great stillness fell upon
+the simple, tender-hearted fellows, and they listened with their
+eyes shining in the firelight with growing intentness.  Then Bill
+spoke of The Pilot and how he stood by her and helped her and
+cheered her till they began to swear he was "all right"; "and now,"
+concluded Bill, "when The Pilot is in a hole she wants to help him
+out."
+
+"O' course," said one.  "Right enough.  How's she going to work
+it?" said another.
+
+"Well, he's dead set on to buildin' a meetin'-house, and them
+fellows down at the Creek that does the prayin' and such don't seem
+to back him up!"
+
+"Whar's the kick, Bill?"
+
+"Oh, they don't want to go down into their clothes and put up for
+it."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Why, he only asked 'em for seven hundred the hull outfit, and
+would give 'em two years, but they bucked--wouldn't look at it."
+
+[Chorus of expletives descriptive of the characters and personal
+appearance and belongings of the congregation of Swan Creek.]
+
+"Were you there, Bill?  What did you do?"
+
+"Oh," said Bill, modestly, "I didn't do much.  Gave 'em a little
+bluff."
+
+"No!  How?  What?  Go on, Bill."
+
+But Bill remained silent, till under strong pressure, and, as if
+making a clean breast of everything, he said:
+
+"Well, I jest told 'em that if you boys made such a fuss about
+anythin' like they did about their Gospel outfit, an' I ain't
+sayin' anythin' agin it, you'd put up seven hundred without turnin'
+a hair."
+
+"You're the stuff, Bill!  Good man!  You're talkin' now!  What did
+they say to that, eh, Bill?"
+
+"Well," said Bill, slowly, "they CALLED me!"
+
+"No!  That so?  An' what did you do, Bill?"
+
+"Gave 'em a dead straight bluff!"
+
+[Yells of enthusiastic approval.]
+
+"Did they take you, Bill?"
+
+"Well, I reckon they did.  The master, here, put it down."
+
+Whereupon I read the terms of Bill's bluff.
+
+There was a chorus of very hearty approvals of Bill's course in
+"not taking any water" from that variously characterized "outfit."
+But the responsibility of the situation began to dawn upon them
+when some one asked:
+
+"How are you going about it, Bill?"
+
+"Well," drawled Bill, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice,
+"there's that pinto."
+
+"Pinto be blanked!" said young Hill.  "Say, boys, is that little
+girl going to lose that one pony of hers to help out her friend The
+Pilot?  Good fellow, too, he is!  We know he's the right sort."
+
+[Chorus of, "Not by a long sight; not much; we'll put up the stuff!
+Pinto!"]
+
+"Then," went on Bill, even more slowly, "there's The Pilot; he's
+going for to ante up a month's pay; 'taint much, o' course--twenty-
+eight a month and grub himself.  He might make it two," he added,
+thoughtfully.  But Bill's proposal was scorned with contemptuous
+groans.  "Twenty-eight a month and grub himself o' course ain't
+much for a man to save money out ov to eddicate himself."  Bill
+continued, as if thinking aloud, "O' course he's got his mother at
+home, but she can't make much more than her own livin', but she
+might help him some."
+
+This was altogether too much for the crowd.  They consigned Bill
+and his plans to unutterable depths of woe.
+
+"O' course," Bill explained, "it's jest as you boys feel about it.
+Mebbe I was, bein' hot, a little swift in givin' 'em the bluff."
+
+"Not much, you wasn't!  We'll see you out!  That's the talk!
+There's between twenty and thirty of us here."
+
+"I should be glad to contribute thirty or forty if need be," said
+The Duke, who was standing not far off, "to assist in the building
+of a church.  It would be a good thing, and I think the parson
+should be encouraged.  He's the right sort."
+
+"I'll cover your thirty," said young Hill; and so it went from one
+to another in tens and fifteens and twenties, till within half an
+hour I had entered three hundred and fifty dollars in my book, with
+Ashley yet to hear from, which meant fifty more.  It was Bill's
+hour of triumph.
+
+"Boys," he said, with solemn emphasis, "ye're all white.  But that
+leetle pale-faced gel, that's what I'm thinkin' on.  Won't she open
+them big eyes ov hers!  I cherish the opinion that this'll tickle
+her some."
+
+The men were greatly pleased with Bill and even more pleased with
+themselves.  Bill's picture of the "leetle gel" and her pathetically
+tragic lot had gone right to their hearts and, with men of that
+stamp, it was one of their few luxuries to yield to their generous
+impulses.  The most of them had few opportunities of lavishing love
+and sympathy upon worthy objects and, when the opportunity came, all
+that was best in them clamored for expression.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+HOW THE PINTO SOLD
+
+
+The glow of virtuous feeling following the performance of their
+generous act prepared the men for a keener enjoyment than usual of
+a night's sport.  They had just begun to dispose themselves in
+groups about the fire for poker and other games when Hi rode up
+into the light and with him a stranger on Gwen's beautiful pinto
+pony.
+
+Hi was evidently half drunk and, as he swung himself of his bronco,
+he saluted the company with a wave of the hand and hoped he saw
+them "kickin'."
+
+Bill, looking curiously at Hi, went up to the pinto and, taking him
+by the head, led him up into the light, saying:
+
+"See here, boys, there's that pinto of mine I was telling you
+about; no flies on him, eh?"
+
+"Hold on there!  Excuse me!" said the stranger, "this here hoss
+belongs to me, if paid-down money means anything in this country."
+
+"The country's all right," said Bill in an ominously quiet voice,
+"but this here pinto's another transaction, I reckon."
+
+"The hoss is mine, I say, and what's more, I'm goin' to hold him,"
+said the stranger in a loud voice.
+
+The men began to crowd around with faces growing hard.  It was
+dangerous in that country to play fast and loose with horses.
+
+"Look a-hyar, mates," said the stranger, with a Yankee drawl, "I
+ain't no hoss thief, and if I hain't bought this hoss reg'lar and
+paid down good money then it ain't mine--if I have it is.  That's
+fair, ain't it?"
+
+At this Hi pulled himself together, and in a half-drunken tone
+declared that the stranger was all right, and that he had bought
+the horse fair and square, and "there's your dust," said Hi,
+handing a roll to Bill.  But with a quick movement Bill caught the
+stranger by the leg, and, before a word could be said, he was lying
+flat on the ground.
+
+"You git off that pony," said Bill, "till this thing is settled."
+
+There was something so terrible in Bill's manner that the man
+contented himself with blustering and swearing, while Bill, turning
+to Hi, said:
+
+"Did you sell this pinto to him?"
+
+Hi was able to acknowledge that, being offered a good price, and
+knowing that his partner was always ready for a deal, he had
+transferred the pinto to the stranger for forty dollars.
+
+Bill was in distress, deep and poignant.  "'Taint the horse, but
+the leetle gel," he explained; but his partner's bargain was his,
+and wrathful as he was, he refused to attempt to break the bargain.
+
+At this moment the Hon. Fred, noting the unusual excitement about
+the fire, came up, followed at a little distance by his wife and
+The Duke.
+
+"Perhaps he'll sell," he suggested.
+
+"No," said Bill sullenly, "he's a mean cuss."
+
+"I know him," said the Hon. Fred, "let me try him."  But the
+stranger declared the pinto suited him down to the ground and he
+wouldn't take twice his money for him.
+
+"Why," he protested, "that there's what I call an unusual hoss, and
+down in Montana for a lady he'd fetch up to a hundred and fifty
+dollars."  In vain they haggled and bargained; the man was
+immovable.  Eighty dollars he wouldn't look at, a hundred hardly
+made him hesitate.  At this point Lady Charlotte came down into the
+light and stood by her husband, who explained the circumstances to
+her.  She had already heard Bill's description of Gwen's accident
+and of her part in the church-building schemes.  There was silence
+for a few moments as she stood looking at the beautiful pony.
+
+"What a shame the poor child should have to part with the dear
+little creature!" she said in a low tone to her husband.  Then,
+turning to the stranger, she said in clear, sweet tones:
+
+"What do you ask for him?"  He hesitated and then said, lifting his
+hat awkwardly in salute:  "I was just remarking how that pinto would
+fetch one hundred and fifty dollars down into Montana.  But seein'
+as a lady is enquirin', I'll put him down to one hundred and
+twenty-five."
+
+"Too much," she said promptly, "far too much, is it not, Bill?"
+
+"Well," drawled Bill, "if 'twere a fellar as was used to ladies
+he'd offer you the pinto, but he's too pizen mean even to come down
+to the even hundred."
+
+The Yankee took him up quickly.  "Wall, if I were so blanked--
+pardon, madam"--taking off his hat, "used to ladies as some folks
+would like to think themselves, I'd buy that there pinto and make a
+present of it to this here lady as stands before me."  Bill twisted
+uneasily.
+
+"But I ain't goin' to be mean; I'll put that pinto in for the even
+money for the lady if any man cares to put up the stuff."
+
+"Well, my dear," said the Hon. Fred with a bow, "we cannot well let
+that gage lie."  She turned and smiled at him and the pinto was
+transferred to the Ashley stables, to Bill's outspoken delight, who
+declared he "couldn't have faced the music if that there pinto had
+gone across the line."  I confess, however, I was somewhat
+surprised at the ease with which Hi escaped his wrath, and my
+surprise was in no way lessened when I saw, later in the evening,
+the two partners with the stranger taking a quiet drink out of the
+same bottle with evident mutual admiration and delight.
+
+"You're an A1 corker, you are!  I'll be blanked if you ain't a
+bird--a singin' bird--a reg'lar canary," I heard Hi say to Bill.
+
+But Bill's only reply was a long, slow wink which passed into a
+frown as he caught my eye.  My suspicion was aroused that the sale
+of the pinto might bear investigation, and this suspicion was
+deepened when Gwen next week gave me a rapturous account of how
+splendidly Bill had disposed of the pinto, showing me bills for one
+hundred and fifty dollars!  To my look of amazement, Gwen replied:
+
+"You see, he must have got them bidding against each other, and
+besides, Bill says pintos are going up."
+
+Light began to dawn upon me, but I only answered that I knew they
+had risen very considerably in value within a month.  The extra
+fifty was Bill's.
+
+I was not present to witness the finishing of Bill's bluff, but was
+told that when Bill made his way through the crowded aisle and laid
+his five hundred and fifty dollars on the schoolhouse desk the look
+of disgust, surprise and finally of pleasure on Robbie's face, was
+worth a hundred more.  But Robbie was ready and put down his two
+hundred with the single remark:
+
+"Ay! ye're no as daft as ye look," mid roars of laughter from all.
+
+Then The Pilot, with eyes and face shining, rose and thanked them
+all; but when he told of how the little girl in her lonely shack in
+the hills thought so much of the church that she gave up for it her
+beloved pony, her one possession, the light from his eyes glowed in
+the eyes of all.
+
+But the men from the ranches who could understand the full meaning
+of her sacrifice and who also could realize the full measure of her
+calamity, were stirred to their hearts' depths, so that when Bill
+remarked in a very distinct undertone, "I cherish the opinion that
+this here Gospel shop wouldn't be materializin' into its present
+shape but for that leetle gel," there rose growls of approval in a
+variety of tones and expletives that left no doubt that his opinion
+was that of all.
+
+But though The Pilot never could quite get at the true inwardness
+of Bill's measures and methods, and was doubtless all the more
+comfortable in mind for that, he had no doubt that while Gwen's
+influence was the moving spring of action, Bill's bluff had a good
+deal to do with the "materializin'" of the first church in Swan
+Creek, and in this conviction, I share.
+
+Whether the Hon. Fred ever understood the peculiar style of Bill's
+financing, I do not quite know.  But if he ever did come to know,
+he was far too much of a man to make a fuss.  Besides, I fancy the
+smile on his lady's face was worth some large amount to him.  At
+least, so the look of proud and fond love in his eyes seemed to say
+as he turned away with her from the fire the night of the pinto's
+sale.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE LADY CHARLOTTE
+
+
+The night of the pinto's sale was a night momentous to Gwen, for
+then it was that the Lady Charlotte's interest in her began.
+Momentous, too, to the Lady Charlotte, for it was that night that
+brought The Pilot into her life.
+
+I had turned back to the fire around which the men had fallen into
+groups prepared to have an hour's solid delight, for the scene was
+full of wild and picturesque beauty to me, when The Duke came and
+touched me on the shoulder.
+
+"Lady Charlotte would like to see you."
+
+"And why, pray?"
+
+"She wants to hear about this affair of Bill's."
+
+We went through the kitchen into the large dining-room, at one end
+of which was a stone chimney and fireplace.  Lady Charlotte had
+declared that she did not much care what kind of a house the Hon.
+Fred would build for her, but that she must have a fireplace.
+
+She was very beautiful--tall, slight and graceful in every line.
+There was a reserve and a grand air in her bearing that put people
+in awe of her.  This awe I shared; but as I entered the room she
+welcomed me with such kindly grace that I felt quite at ease in a
+moment.
+
+"Come and sit by me," she said, drawing an armchair into the circle
+about the fire.  "I want you to tell us all about a great many
+things."
+
+"You see what you're in for, Connor," said her husband.  "It is a
+serious business when my lady takes one in hand."
+
+"As he knows to his cost," she said, smiling and shaking her head
+at her husband.
+
+"So I can testify," put in The Duke.
+
+"Ah! I can't do anything with you," she replied, turning to him.
+
+"Your most abject slave," he replied with a profound bow.
+
+"If you only were," smiling at him--a little sadly, I thought--"I'd
+keep you out of all sorts of mischief."
+
+"Quite true, Duke," said her husband, "just look at me."
+
+The Duke gazed at him a moment or two.  "Wonderful!" he murmured,
+"what a deliverance!"
+
+"Nonsense!" broke in Lady Charlotte.  "You are turning my mind away
+from my purpose."
+
+"Is it possible, do you think?" said The Duke to her husband.
+
+"Not in the very least," he replied, "if my experience goes for
+anything."
+
+But Lady Charlotte turned her back upon them and said to me:
+
+"Now, tell me first about Bill's encounter with that funny little
+Scotchman."
+
+Then I told her the story of Bill's bluff in my best style,
+imitating, as I have some small skill in doing, the manner and
+speech of the various actors in the scene.  She was greatly amused
+and interested.
+
+"And Bill has really got his share ready," she cried.  "It is very
+clever of him."
+
+"Yes," I replied, "but Bill is only the very humble instrument, the
+moving spirit is behind."
+
+"Oh, yes, you mean the little girl that owns the pony," she said.
+"That's another thing you must tell me about."
+
+"The Duke knows more than I," I replied, shifting the burden to
+him; "my acquaintance is only of yesterday; his is lifelong."
+
+"Why have you never told me of her?" she demanded, turning to the
+Duke.
+
+"Haven't I told you of the little Meredith girl?  Surely I have,"
+said The Duke, hesitatingly.
+
+"Now, you know quite well you have not, and that means you are
+deeply interested.  Oh, I know you well," she said, severely.
+
+"He is the most secretive man," she went on to me, "shamefully and
+ungratefully reserved."
+
+The Duke smiled; then said, lazily:  "Why, she's just a child.  Why
+should you be interested in her?  No one was," he added sadly,
+"till misfortune distinguished her."
+
+Her eyes grew soft, and her gay manner changed, and she said to The
+Duke gently:  "Tell me of her now."
+
+It was evidently an effort, but he began his story of Gwen from
+the time he saw her first, years ago, playing in and out of her
+father's rambling shack, shy and wild as a young fox.  As he went
+on with his tale, his voice dropped into a low, musical tone, and
+he seemed as if dreaming aloud.  Unconsciously he put into the tale
+much of himself, revealing how great an influence the little child
+had had upon him, and how empty of love his life had been in this
+lonely land.  Lady Charlotte listened with face intent upon him,
+and even her bluff husband was conscious that something more than
+usual was happening.  He had never heard The Duke break through his
+proud reserve before.
+
+But when The Duke told the story of Gwen's awful fall, which he did
+with great graphic power, a little red spot burned upon the Lady
+Charlotte's pale cheek, and, as The Duke finished his tale with the
+words, "It was her last ride," she covered her face with her hands
+and cried:
+
+"Oh, Duke, it is horrible to think of!  But what splendid courage!"
+
+"Great stuff! eh, Duke?" cried the Hon. Fred, kicking a burning log
+vigorously.
+
+But The Duke made no reply.
+
+"How is she now, Duke?" said Lady Charlotte.  The Duke looked up as
+from a dream.  "Bright as the morning," he said.  Then, in reply to
+Lady Charlotte's look of wonder, he added:
+
+"The Pilot did it.  Connor will tell you.  I don't understand it."
+
+"Nor do I, either.  But I can tell you only what I saw and heard,"
+I answered.
+
+"Tell me," said Lady Charlotte very gently.
+
+Then I told her how, one by one, we had failed to help her, and how
+The Pilot had ridden up that morning through the canyon, and how he
+had brought the first light and peace to her by his marvellous
+pictures of the flowers and ferns and trees and all the wonderful
+mysteries of that wonderful canyon.
+
+"But that wasn't all," said the Duke quickly, as I stopped.
+
+"No," I said slowly, "that was NOT all by a long way; but the rest
+I don't understand.  That's The Pilot's secret."
+
+"Tell me what he did," said Lady Charlotte, softly, once more.  "I
+want to know."
+
+"I don't think I can," I replied.  "He simply read out of the
+Scriptures to her and talked."
+
+Lady Charlotte looked disappointed.
+
+"Is that all?" she said.
+
+"It is quite enough for Gwen," said The Duke confidently, "for
+there she lies, often suffering, always longing for the hills and
+the free air, but with her face radiant as the flowers of the
+beloved canyon."
+
+"I must see her," said Lady Charlotte, "and that wonderful Pilot."
+
+"You'll be disappointed in him," said The Duke.
+
+"Oh, I've see him and heard him, but I don't know him," she
+replied.  "There must be something in him that one does not see
+at first."
+
+"So I have discovered," said The Duke, and with that the subject
+was dropped, but not before the Lady Charlotte made me promise to
+take her to Gwen, The Duke being strangely unwilling to do this for
+her.
+
+"You'll be disappointed," he said.  "She is only a simple little
+child."
+
+But Lady Charlotte thought differently, and, having made up her
+mind upon the matter, there was nothing for it, as her husband
+said, but "for all hands to surrender and the sooner the better."
+
+And so the Lady Charlotte had her way, which, as it turned out, was
+much the wisest and best.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THROUGH GWEN'S WINDOW
+
+
+When I told The Pilot of Lady Charlotte's purpose to visit Gwen, he
+was not too well pleased.
+
+"What does she want with Gwen?" he said impatiently.  "She will
+just put notions into her head and make the child discontented."
+
+"Why should she?" said I.
+
+"She won't mean to, but she belongs to another world, and Gwen
+cannot talk to her without getting glimpses of a life that will
+make her long for what she can never have," said The Pilot.
+
+"But suppose it is not idle curiosity in Lady Charlotte," I
+suggested.
+
+"I don't say it is quite that," he answered, "but these people love
+a sensation."
+
+"I don't think you know Lady Charlotte," I replied.  "I hardly
+think from her tone the other night that she is a sensation
+hunter."
+
+"At any rate," he answered, decidedly, "she is not to worry poor
+Gwen."
+
+I was a little surprised at his attitude, and felt that he was
+unfair to Lady Charlotte, but I forbore to argue with him on the
+matter.  He could not bear to think of any person or thing
+threatening the peace of his beloved Gwen.
+
+The very first Saturday after my promise was given we were
+surprised to see Lady Charlotte ride up to the door of our shack
+in the early morning.
+
+"You see, I am not going to let you off," she said, as I greeted
+her.  "And the day is so very fine for a ride."
+
+I hastened to apologize for not going to her, and then to get out
+of my difficulty, rather meanly turned toward The Pilot, and said:
+
+"The Pilot doesn't approve of our visit."
+
+"And why not, may I ask?" said Lady Charlotte, lifting her eyebrows.
+
+The Pilot's face burned, partly with wrath at me, and partly with
+embarrassment; for Lady Charlotte had put on her grand air.  But he
+stood to his guns.
+
+"I was saying, Lady Charlotte," he said, looking straight into her
+eyes, "that you and Gwen have little in common--and--and--" he
+hesitated.
+
+"Little in common!" said Lady Charlotte quietly.  "She has suffered
+greatly."
+
+The Pilot was quick to catch the note of sadness in her voice.
+
+"Yes," he said, wondering at her tone, "she has suffered greatly."
+
+"And," continued Lady Charlotte, "she is bright as the morning, The
+Duke says."  There was a look of pain in her face.
+
+The Pilot's face lit up, and he came nearer and laid his hand
+caressingly upon her beautiful horse.
+
+"Yes, thank God!" he said quickly, "bright as the morning."
+
+"How can that be?" she asked, looking down into his face.  "Perhaps
+she would tell me."
+
+"Lady Charlotte," said The Pilot with a sudden flush, "I must ask
+your pardon.  I was wrong.  I thought you--" he paused; "but go to
+Gwen, she will tell you, and you will do her good."
+
+"Thank you," said Lady Charlotte, putting out her hand, "and
+perhaps you will come and see me, too."
+
+The Pilot promised and stood looking after us as we rode up the
+trail.
+
+"There is something more in your Pilot than at first appears," she
+said.  "The Duke was quite right."
+
+"He is a great man," I said with enthusiasm; "tender as a woman and
+with the heart of a hero."
+
+"You and Bill and The Duke seem to agree about him," she said,
+smiling.
+
+Then I told her tales of The Pilot, and of his ways with the men,
+till her blue eyes grew bright and her beautiful face lost its
+proud look.
+
+"It is perfectly amazing," I said, finishing my story, "how these
+devil-may-care rough fellows respect him, and come to him in all
+sorts of trouble.  I can't understand it, and yet he is just a
+boy."
+
+"No, not amazing," said Lady Charlotte slowly.  "I think I
+understand it.  He has a true man's heart; and holds a great
+purpose in it.  I've seen men like that.  Not clergymen, I mean,
+but men with a great purpose."
+
+Then, after a moment's thought, she added:  "But you ought to care
+for him better.  He does not look strong."
+
+"Strong!" I exclaimed quickly, with a queer feeling of resentment
+at my heart.  "He can do as much riding as any of us."
+
+"Still," she replied, "there's something in his face that would
+make his mother anxious."  In spite of my repudiation of her
+suggestion, I found myself for the next few minutes thinking of how
+he would come exhausted and faint from his long rides, and I
+resolved that he must have a rest and change.
+
+It was one of those early September days, the best of all in the
+western country, when the light falls less fiercely through a soft
+haze that seems to fill the air about you, and that grows into
+purple on the far hilltops.  By the time we reached the canyon the
+sun was riding high and pouring its rays full into all the deep
+nooks where the shadows mostly lay.
+
+There were no shadows to-day, except such as the trees cast upon
+the green moss beds and the black rocks.  The tops of the tall elms
+were sere and rusty, but the leaves of the rugged oaks that fringed
+the canyon's lips shone a rich and glossy brown.  All down the
+sides the poplars and delicate birches, pale yellow, but sometimes
+flushing into orange and red, stood shimmering in the golden light,
+while here and there the broad-spreading, feathery sumachs made
+great splashes of brilliant crimson upon the yellow and gold.  Down
+in the bottom stood the cedars and the balsams, still green.  We
+stood some moments silently gazing into this tangle of interlacing
+boughs and shimmering leaves, all glowing in yellow light, then
+Lady Charlotte broke the silence in tones soft and reverent as if
+she stood in a great cathedral.
+
+"And this is Gwen's canyon!"
+
+"Yes, but she never sees it now," I said, for I could never ride
+through without thinking of the child to whose heart this was so
+dear, but whose eyes never rested upon it.  Lady Charlotte made no
+reply, and we took the trail that wound down into this maze of
+mingling colors and lights and shadows.  Everywhere lay the fallen
+leaves, brown and yellow and gold;--everywhere on our trail, on the
+green mosses and among the dead ferns.  And as we rode, leaves
+fluttered down from the trees above silently through the tangled
+boughs, and lay with the others on moss and rock and beaten trail.
+
+The flowers were all gone; but the Little Swan sang as ever its
+many-voiced song, as it flowed in pools and eddies and cascades,
+with here and there a golden leaf upon its black waters.  Ah! how
+often in weary, dusty days these sights and sounds and silences
+have come to me and brought my heart rest!
+
+As we began to climb up into the open, I glanced at my companion's
+face.  The canyon had done its work with her as with all who loved
+it.  The touch of pride that was the habit of her face was gone,
+and in its place rested the earnest wonder of a little child, while
+in her eyes lay the canyon's tender glow.  And with this face she
+looked in upon Gwen.
+
+And Gwen, who had been waiting for her, forgot all her nervous
+fear, and with hands outstretched, cried out in welcome:
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad!  You've seen it and I know you love it!  My
+canyon, you know!" she went on, answering Lady Charlotte's
+mystified look.
+
+"Yes, dear child," said Lady Charlotte, bending over the pale face
+with its halo of golden hair, "I love it."  But she could get no
+further, for her eyes were full of tears.  Gwen gazed up into the
+beautiful face, wondering at her silence, and then said gently:
+
+"Tell me how it looks to-day!  The Pilot always shows it to me.  Do
+you know," she added, thoughtfully, "The Pilot looks like it
+himself.  He makes me think of it, and--and--" she went on shyly,
+"you do, too."
+
+By this time Lady Charlotte was kneeling by the couch, smoothing
+the beautiful hair and gently touching the face so pale and lined
+with pain.
+
+"That is a great honor, truly," she said brightly through her
+tears--"to be like your canyon and like your Pilot, too."
+
+Gwen nodded, but she was not to be denied.
+
+"Tell me how it looks to-day," she said.  "I want to see it.  Oh, I
+want to see it!"
+
+Lady Charlotte was greatly moved by the yearning in the voice, but,
+controlling herself, she said gaily:
+
+"Oh, I can't show it to you as your Pilot can, but I'll tell you
+what I saw."
+
+"Turn me where I can see," said Gwen to me, and I wheeled her
+toward the window and raised her up so that she could look down the
+trail toward the canyon's mouth.
+
+"Now," she said, after the pain of the lifting had passed, "tell
+me, please."
+
+Then Lady Charlotte set the canyon before her in rich and radiant
+coloring, while Gwen listened, gazing down upon the trail to where
+the elm tops could be seen, rusty and sere.
+
+"Oh, it is lovely!" said Gwen, "and I see it so well.  It is all
+there before me when I look through my window."
+
+But Lady Charlotte looked at her, wondering to see her bright
+smile, and at last she could not help the question:
+
+"But don't you weary to see it with your own eyes?"
+
+"Yes," said Gwen gently, "often I want and want it, oh, so much!"
+
+"And then, Gwen, dear, how can you bear it?"  Her voice was eager
+and earnest.  "Tell me, Gwen.  I have heard all about your canyon
+flowers, but I can't understand how the fretting and the pain went
+away."
+
+Gwen looked at her first in amazement, and then in dawning
+understanding.
+
+"Have you a canyon, too?" she asked, gravely.
+
+Lady Charlotte paused a moment, then nodded.  It did appear strange
+to me that she should break down her proud reserve and open her
+heart to this child.
+
+"And there are no flowers, Gwen, not one," she said rather bitterly,
+"nor sun nor seeds nor soil, I fear."
+
+"Oh, if The Pilot were here, he would tell you."
+
+At this point, feeling that they would rather be alone, I excused
+myself on the pretext of looking after the horses.
+
+What they talked of during the next hour I never knew, but when I
+returned to the room Lady Charlotte was reading slowly and with
+perplexed face to Gwen out of her mother's Bible the words "for the
+suffering of death, crowned with glory and honor."
+
+"You see even for Him, suffering," Gwen said eagerly, "but I can't
+explain.  The Pilot will make it clear."  Then the talk ended.
+
+We had lunch with Gwen--bannocks and fresh sweet milk and
+blueberries--and after an hour of gay fun we came away.
+
+Lady Charlotte kissed her tenderly as she bade Gwen good-by.
+
+"You must let me come again and sit at your window," she said,
+smiling down upon the wan face.
+
+"Oh, I shall watch for you.  How good that will be!" cried Gwen,
+delightedly.  "How many come to see me!  You make five."  Then she
+added, softly:  "You will write your letter."  But Lady Charlotte
+shook her head.
+
+"I can't do that, I fear," she said, "but I shall think of it."
+
+It was a bright face that looked out upon us through the open
+window as we rode down the trail.  Just before we took the dip into
+the canyon, I turned to wave my hand.
+
+"Gwen's friends always wave from here," I said, wheeling my bronco.
+
+Again and again Lady Charlotte waved her handkerchief.
+
+"How beautiful, but how wonderful!" she said as if to herself.
+"Truly, HER canyon is full of flowers."
+
+"It is quite beyond me," I answered.  "The Pilot may explain."
+
+"Is there anything your Pilot can't do?" said Lady Charlotte.
+
+"Try him," I ventured.
+
+"I mean to," she replied, "but I cannot bring anyone to my canyon,
+I fear," she added in an uncertain voice.
+
+As I left her at her door she thanked me with courteous grace.
+
+"You have done a great deal for me," she said, giving me her hand.
+"It has been a beautiful, a wonderful day."
+
+When I told the Pilot all the day's doings, he burst out:
+
+"What a stupid and self-righteous fool I have been!  I never
+thought there could be any canyon in her life.  How short our sight
+is!" and all that night I could get almost no words from him.
+
+That was the first of many visits to Gwen.  Not a week passed but
+Lady Charlotte took the trail to the Meredith ranch and spent an
+hour at Gwen's window.  Often The Pilot found her there.  But
+though they were always pleasant hours to him, he would come home
+in great trouble about Lady Charlotte.
+
+"She is perfectly charming and doing Gwen no end of good, but she
+is proud as an archangel.  Has had an awful break with her family
+at home, and it is spoiling her life.  She told me so much, but she
+will allow no one to touch the affair."
+
+But one day we met her riding toward the village.  As we drew near,
+she drew up her horse and held up a letter.
+
+"Home!" she said.  "I wrote it to-day, and I must get it off
+immediately."
+
+The Pilot understood her at once, but he only said:
+
+"Good!" but with such emphasis that we both laughed.
+
+"Yes, I hope so," she said with the red beginning to show in her
+cheek.  "I have dropped some seed into my canyon."
+
+"I think I see the flowers beginning to spring," said The Pilot.
+
+She shook her head doubtfully and replied:
+
+"I shall ride up and sit with Gwen at her window."
+
+"Do," replied The Pilot, "the light is good there.  Wonderful
+things are to be seen through Gwen's window."
+
+"Yes," said Lady Charlotte softly.  "Dear Gwen!--but I fear it is
+often made bright with tears."
+
+As she spoke she wheeled her horse and cantered off, for her own
+tears were not far away.  I followed her in thought up the trail
+winding through the round-topped hills and down through the golden
+lights of the canyon and into Gwen's room.  I could see the pale
+face, with its golden aureole, light up and glow, as they sat
+before the window while Lady Charlotte would tell her how Gwen's
+Canyon looked to-day and how in her own bleak canyon there was the
+sign of flowers.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+HOW BILL FAVORED "HOME-GROWN INDUSTRIES"
+
+
+The building of the Swan Creek Church made a sensation in the
+country, and all the more that Bronco Bill was in command.
+
+"When I put up money I stay with the game," he announced; and stay
+he did, to the great benefit of the work and to the delight of The
+Pilot, who was wearing his life out in trying to do several men's
+work.  It was Bill that organized the gangs for hauling stone for
+the foundation and logs for the walls.  It was Bill that assigned
+the various jobs to those volunteering service.  To Robbie Muir and
+two stalwart Glengarry men from the Ottawa lumber region, who knew
+all about the broadaxe, he gave the hewing down of the logs that
+formed the walls.  And when they had done, Bill declared they were
+"better 'an a sawmill."  It was Bill, too, that did the financing,
+and his passage with Williams, the storekeeper from "the other
+side" who dealt in lumber and building material, was such as
+established forever Bill's reputation in finance.
+
+With The Pilot's plans in his hands he went to Williams, seizing a
+time when the store was full of men after their mail matter.
+
+"What do you think ov them plans?" he asked innocently.
+
+Williams was voluble with opinions and criticism and suggestions,
+all of which were gratefully, even humbly received.
+
+"Kind ov hard to figger out jest how much lumber 'll go into the
+shack," said Bill; "ye see the logs makes a difference."
+
+To Williams the thing was simplicity itself, and, after some
+figuring, he handed Bill a complete statement of the amount of
+lumber of all kinds that would be required.
+
+"Now, what would that there come to?"
+
+Williams named his figure, and then Bill entered upon negotiations.
+
+"I aint no man to beat down prices.  No, sir, I say give a man his
+figger.  Of course, this here aint my funeral; besides, bein' a
+Gospel shop, the price naterally would be different."  To this the
+boys all assented and Williams looked uncomfortable.
+
+"In fact," and Bill adopted his public tone to Hi's admiration and
+joy, "this here's a public institooshun" (this was Williams' own
+thunder), "condoocin' to the good of the community" (Hi slapped his
+thigh and squirted half way across the store to signify his entire
+approval, "and I cherish the opinion"--(delighted chuckle from Hi)--
+"that public men are interested in this concern."
+
+"That's so!  Right you are!" chorused the boys gravely.
+
+Williams agreed, but declared he had thought of all this in making
+his calculation.  But seeing it was a church, and the first church
+and their own church, he would make a cut, which he did after more
+figuring.  Bill gravely took the slip of paper and put it into his
+pocket without a word.  By the end of the week, having in the
+meantime ridden into town and interviewed the dealers there, Bill
+sauntered into the store and took up his position remote from
+Williams.
+
+"You'll be wanting that sheeting, won't you, next week, Bill?" said
+Williams.
+
+"What sheetin' 's that?"
+
+"Why, for the church.  Aint the logs up?"
+
+"Yes, that's so.  I was just goin' to see the boys here about
+gettin' it hauled," said Bill.
+
+"Hauled!" said Williams, in amazed indignation.  "Aint you goin' to
+stick to your deal?"
+
+"I generally make it my custom to stick to my deals," said Bill,
+looking straight at Williams.
+
+"Well, what about your deal with me last Monday night?" said
+Williams, angrily.
+
+"Let's see.  Last Monday night," said Bill, apparently thinking
+back; "can't say as I remember any pertickler deal.  Any ov you
+fellers remember?"
+
+No one could recall any deal.
+
+"You don't remember getting any paper from me, I suppose?" said
+Williams, sarcastically.
+
+"Paper!  Why, I believe I've got that there paper onto my person at
+this present moment," said Bill, diving into his pocket and drawing
+out Williams' estimate.  He spent a few moments in careful
+scrutiny.
+
+"There ain't no deal onto this as I can see," said Bill, gravely
+passing the paper to the boys, who each scrutinized it and passed
+it on with a shake of the head or a remark as to the absence of any
+sign of a deal.  Williams changed his tone.  For his part, he was
+indifferent in the matter.
+
+Then Bill made him an offer.
+
+"Ov course, I believe in supportin' home-grown industries, and if
+you can touch my figger I'd be uncommonly glad to give you the
+contract."
+
+But Bill's figure, which was quite fifty per cent. lower than
+Williams' best offer, was rejected as quite impossible.
+
+"Thought I'd make you the offer," said Bill, carelessly, "seein' as
+you're institootin' the trade and the boys here 'll all be buildin'
+more or less, and I believe in standin' up for local trades and
+manufactures."  There were nods of approval on all sides, and
+Williams was forced to accept, for Bill began arranging with the
+Hill brothers and Hi to make an early start on Monday.  It was a
+great triumph, but Bill displayed no sign of elation; he was rather
+full of sympathy for Williams, and eager to help on the lumber
+business as a local "institooshun."
+
+Second in command in the church building enterprise stood Lady
+Charlotte, and under her labored the Hon. Fred, The Duke, and,
+indeed, all the company of the Noble Seven.  Her home became the
+centre of a new type of social life.  With exquisite tact, and much
+was needed for this kind of work, she drew the bachelors from their
+lonely shacks and from their wild carousals, and gave them a taste
+of the joys of a pure home-life, the first they had had since
+leaving the old homes years ago.  And then she made them work for
+the church with such zeal and diligence that her husband and The
+Duke declared that ranching had become quite an incidental interest
+since the church-building had begun.  But The Pilot went about with
+a radiant look on his pale face, while Bill gave it forth as his
+opinion, "though she was a leetle high in the action, she could hit
+an uncommon gait."
+
+With such energy did Bill push the work of construction that by the
+first of December the church stood roofed, sheeted, floored and
+ready for windows, doors and ceiling, so that The Pilot began to
+hope that he should see the desire of his heart fulfilled--the
+church of Swan Creek open for divine service on Christmas Day.
+
+During these weeks there was more than church-building going on,
+for while the days were given to the shaping of logs, and the
+driving of nails and the planing of boards, the long winter
+evenings were spent in talk around the fire in my shack, where The
+Pilot for some months past had made his home and where Bill, since
+the beginning of the church building, had come "to camp."  Those
+were great nights for The Pilot and Bill, and, indeed, for me, too,
+and the other boys, who, after a day's work on the church, were
+always brought in by Bill or The Pilot.
+
+Great nights for us all they were.  After bacon and beans and
+bannocks, and occasionally potatoes, and rarely a pudding, with
+coffee, rich and steaming, to wash all down, pipes would follow,
+and then yarns of adventures, possible and impossible, all exciting
+and wonderful, and all received with the greatest credulity.
+
+If, however, the powers of belief were put to too great a strain by
+a tale of more than ordinary marvel, Bill would follow with one of
+such utter impossibility that the company would feel that the limit
+had been reached, and the yarns would cease.  But after the first
+week most of the time was given to The Pilot, who would read to us
+of the deeds of the mighty men of old, who had made and wrecked
+empires.
+
+What happy nights they were to those cowboys, who had been cast up
+like driftwood upon this strange and lonely shore!  Some of them
+had never known what it was to have a thought beyond the work and
+sport of the day.  And the world into which The Pilot was ushering
+them was all new and wonderful to them.  Happy nights, without a
+care, but that The Pilot would not get the ghastly look out of his
+face, and laughed at the idea of going away till the church was
+built.  And, indeed, we would all have sorely missed him, and so he
+stayed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+HOW BILL HIT THE TRAIL
+
+
+When "the crowd" was with us The Pilot read us all sorts of tales
+of adventures in all lands by heroes of all ages, but when we three
+sat together by our fire The Pilot would always read us tales of
+the heroes of sacred story, and these delighted Bill more than
+those of any of the ancient empires of the past.  He had his
+favorites.  Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Gideon, never failed to arouse
+his admiration.  But Jacob was to him always "a mean cuss," and
+David he could not appreciate.  Most of all he admired Moses and
+the Apostle Paul, whom he called "that little chap."  But, when the
+reading was about the One Great Man that moved majestic amid the
+gospel stories, Bill made no comments; He was too high for
+approval.
+
+By and by Bill began to tell these tales to the boys, and one
+night, when a quiet mood had fallen upon the company, Bill broke
+the silence.
+
+"Say, Pilot, where was it that the little chap got mixed up into
+that riot?"
+
+"Riot!" said The Pilot.
+
+"Yes; you remember when he stood off the whole gang from the
+stairs?"
+
+"Oh, yes, at Jerusalem!"
+
+"Yes, that's the spot.  Perhaps you would read that to the boys.
+Good yarn!  Little chap, you know, stood up and told 'em they were
+all sorts of blanked thieves and cut-throats, and stood 'em off.
+Played it alone, too."
+
+Most of the boys failed to recognize the story in its new dress.
+There was much interest.
+
+"Who was the duck?  Who was the gang?  What was the row about?"
+
+"The Pilot here'll tell you.  If you'd kind o' give 'em a lead
+before you begin, they'd catch on to the yarn better."  This last
+to The Pilot, who was preparing to read.
+
+"Well, it was at Jerusalem," began The Pilot, when Bill interrupted:
+
+"If I might remark, perhaps it might help the boys on to the trail
+mebbe, if you'd tell 'em how the little chap struck his new gait."
+So he designated the Apostle's conversion.
+
+Then The Pilot introduced the Apostle with some formality to the
+company, describing with such vivid touches his life and early
+training, his sudden wrench from all he held dear, under the stress
+of a new conviction, his magnificent enthusiasm and courage, his
+tenderness and patience, that I was surprised to find myself
+regarding him as a sort of hero, and the boys were all ready to
+back him against any odds.  As The Pilot read the story of the
+Arrest at Jerusalem, stopping now and then to picture the scene, we
+saw it all and were in the thick of it.  The raging crowd hustling
+and beating the life out of the brave little man, the sudden thrust
+of the disciplined Roman guard through the mass, the rescue, the
+pause on the stairway, the calm face of the little hero beckoning
+for a hearing, the quieting of the frantic, frothing mob, the
+fearless speech--all passed before us.  The boys were thrilled.
+
+"Good stuff, eh?"
+
+"Ain't he a daisy?"
+
+"Daisy!  He's a whole sunflower patch!"
+
+"Yes," drawled Bill, highly appreciating their marks of approval.
+"That's what I call a partickler fine character of a man.  There
+ain't no manner of insecks on to him."
+
+"You bet!" said Hi.
+
+"I say," broke in one of the boys, who was just emerging from the
+tenderfoot stage, "o' course that's in the Bible, ain't it?"
+
+The Pilot assented.
+
+"Well, how do you know it's true?"
+
+The Pilot was proceeding to elaborate his argument when Bill cut in
+somewhat more abruptly than was his wont.
+
+"Look here, young feller!"  Bill's voice was in the tone of
+command.  The man looked as he was bid.  "How do you know
+anything's true?  How do you know The Pilot here's true when he
+speaks?  Can't you tell by the feel?  You know by the sound of his
+voice, don't you?"  Bill paused and the young fellow agreed
+readily.
+
+"Well how do you know a blanked son of a she jackass when you see
+him?"  Again Bill paused.  There was no reply.
+
+"Well," said Bill, resuming his deliberate drawl.  "I'll give you
+the information without extra charge.  It's by the sound he makes
+when he opens his blanked jaw."
+
+"But," went on the young skeptic, nettled at the laugh that went
+round, "that don't prove anything.  You know," turning to The
+Pilot, "that there are heaps of people who don't believe the
+Bible."
+
+The Pilot nodded.
+
+"Some of the smartest, best-educated men are agnostics," proceeded
+the young man, warming to his theme, and failing to notice the
+stiffening of Bill's lank figure.  "I don't know but what I am one
+myself."
+
+"That so?" said Bill, with sudden interest.
+
+"I guess so," was the modest reply.
+
+"Got it bad?" went on Bill, with a note of anxiety in his tone.
+
+But the young man turned to The Pilot and tried to open a fresh
+argument.
+
+"Whatever he's got," said Bill to the others, in a mild voice,
+"it's spoilin' his manners."
+
+"Yes," went on Bill, meditatively, after the slight laugh had died,
+"it's ruinin' to the judgment.  He don't seem to know when he
+interferes with the game.  Pity, too."
+
+Still the argument went on.
+
+"Seems as if he ought to take somethin'," said Bill, in a voice
+suspiciously mild.  "What would you suggest?"
+
+"A walk, mebbe!" said Hi, in delighted expectation.
+
+"I hold the opinion that you have mentioned an uncommonly vallable
+remedy, better'n Pain Killer almost."
+
+Bill rose languidly.
+
+"I say," he drawled, tapping the young fellow, "it appears to me a
+little walk would perhaps be good, mebbe."
+
+"All right, wait till I get my cap," was the unsuspecting reply.
+
+"I don't think perhaps you won't need it, mebbe.  I cherish the
+opinion you'll, perhaps, be warm enough."  Bill's voice had
+unconsciously passed into a sterner tone.  Hi was on his feet and
+at the door.
+
+"This here interview is private AND confidential," said Bill to his
+partner.
+
+"Exactly," said Hi, opening the door.  At this the young fellow,
+who was a strapping six-footer, but soft and flabby, drew back and
+refused to go.  He was too late.  Bill's grip was on his collar and
+out they went into the snow, and behind them Hi closed the door.
+In vain the young fellow struggled to wrench himself free from the
+hands that had him by the shoulder and the back of the neck.  I
+took it all in from the window.  He might have been a boy for all
+the effect his plungings had upon the long, sinewy arms that
+gripped him so fiercely.  After a minute's furious struggle the
+young fellow stood quiet, when Bill suddenly shifted his grip from
+the shoulder to the seat of his buckskin trousers.  Then began a
+series of evolutions before the house--up and down, forward and
+back, which the unfortunate victim, with hands wildly clutching at
+empty air, was quite powerless to resist till he was brought up
+panting and gasping, subdued, to a standstill.
+
+"I'll larn you agnostics and several other kinds of ticks," said
+Bill, in a terrible voice, his drawl lengthening perceptibly.
+"Come round here, will you, and shove your blanked second-handed
+trash down our throats?"  Bill paused to get words; then, bursting
+out in rising wrath:
+
+"There ain't no sootable words for sich conduct.  By the livin'
+Jeminy--"  He suddenly swung his prisoner off his feet, lifted him
+bodily, and held him over his head at arm's length.  "I've a notion
+to--"
+
+"Don't! don't! for Heaven's sake!" cried the struggling wretch,
+"I'll stop it! I will!"
+
+Bill at once lowered him and set him on his feet.
+
+"All right!  Shake!" he said, holding out his hand, which the other
+took with caution.
+
+It was a remarkably sudden conversion and lasting in its effects.
+There was no more agnosticism in the little group that gathered
+around The Pilot for the nightly reading.
+
+The interest in the reading kept growing night by night.
+
+"Seems as if The Pilot was gittin' in his work," said Bill to me;
+and looking at the grave, eager faces, I agreed.  He was getting in
+his work with Bill, too; though perhaps Bill did not know it.  I
+remember one night, when the others had gone, The Pilot was reading
+to us the Parable of the Talents, Bill was particularly interested
+in the servant who failed in his duty.
+
+"Ornery cuss, eh?" he remarked; "and gall, too, eh?  Served him
+blamed well right, in my opinion!"
+
+But when the practical bearing of the parable became clear to him,
+after long silence, he said, slowly:
+
+"Well, that there seems to indicate that it's about time for
+me to get a rustle on."  Then, after another silence, he said,
+hesitatingly, "This here church-buildin' business now, do you think
+that'll perhaps count, mebbe?  I guess not, eh?  'Tain't much, o'
+course, anyway."  Poor Bill, he was like a child, and The Pilot
+handled him with a mother's touch.
+
+"What are you best at, Bill?"
+
+"Bronco-bustin' and cattle," said Bill, wonderingly; "that's my
+line."
+
+"Well, Bill, my line is preaching just now, and piloting, you
+know."  The Pilot's smile was like a sunbeam on a rainy day, for
+there were tears in his eyes and voice.  "And we have just got to
+be faithful.  You see what he says:  'Well done, good and FAITHFUL
+servant.  Thou hast been FAITHFUL.'"
+
+Bill was puzzled.
+
+"Faithful!" he repeated.  "Does that mean with the cattle, perhaps?"
+
+"Yes, that's just it, Bill, and with everything else that comes
+your way."
+
+And Bill never forgot that lesson, for I heard him, with a kind of
+quiet enthusiasm, giving it to Hi as a great find.  "Now, I call
+that a fair deal," he said to his friend; "gives every man a show.
+No cards up the sleeve."
+
+"That's so," was Hi's thoughtful reply; "distributes the trumps."
+
+Somehow Bill came to be regarded as an authority upon questions
+of religion and morals.  No one ever accused him of "gettin'
+religion."  He went about his work in his slow, quiet way, but he
+was always sharing his discoveries with "the boys."  And if anyone
+puzzled him with subtleties he never rested till he had him face to
+face with The Pilot.  And so it came that these two drew to each
+other with more than brotherly affection.  When Bill got into
+difficulty with problems that have vexed the souls of men far wiser
+than he, The Pilot would either disentangle the knots or would turn
+his mind to the verities that stood out sure and clear, and Bill
+would be content.
+
+"That's good enough for me," he would say, and his heart would be
+at rest.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+HOW THE SWAN CREEK CHURCH WAS OPENED
+
+
+When, near the end of the year, The Pilot fell sick, Bill nursed
+him like a mother and sent him off for a rest and change to Gwen,
+forbidding him to return till the church was finished and visiting
+him twice a week.  The love between the two was most beautiful,
+and, when I find my heart grow hard and unbelieving in men and
+things, I let my mind wander back to a scene that I came upon in
+front of Gwen's house.  These two were standing alone in the clear
+moonlight, Bill with his hand upon The Pilot's shoulder, and The
+Pilot with his arm around Bill's neck.
+
+"Dear old Bill," The Pilot was saying, "dear old Bill," and the
+voice was breaking into a sob.  And Bill, standing stiff and
+straight, looked up at the stars, coughed and swallowed hard for
+some moments, and said, in a queer, croaky voice:
+
+"Shouldn't wonder if a Chinook would blow up."
+
+"Chinook?" laughed The Pilot, with a catch in his voice.  "You dear
+old humbug," and he stood watching till the lank form swayed down
+into the canyon.
+
+The day of the church opening came, as all days, however long
+waited for, will come--a bright, beautiful Christmas Day.  The air
+was still and full of frosty light, as if arrested by a voice of
+command, waiting the word to move.  The hills lay under their
+dazzling coverlets, asleep.  Back of all, the great peaks lifted
+majestic heads out of the dark forests and gazed with calm,
+steadfast faces upon the white, sunlit world.  To-day, as the light
+filled up the cracks that wrinkled their hard faces, they seemed to
+smile, as if the Christmas joy had somehow moved something in their
+old, stony hearts.
+
+The people were all there--farmers, ranchers, cowboys, wives and
+children--all happy, all proud of their new church, and now all
+expectant, waiting for The Pilot and the Old Timer, who were to
+drive down if The Pilot was fit and were to bring Gwen if the day
+was fine.  As the time passed on, Bill, as master of ceremonies,
+began to grow uneasy.  Then Indian Joe appeared and handed a note
+to Bill.  He read it, grew gray in the face and passed it to me.
+Looking, I saw in poor, wavering lines the words, "Dear Bill.  Go
+on with the opening.  Sing the Psalm, you know the one, and say a
+prayer, and oh, come to me quick, Bill.  Your Pilot."
+
+Bill gradually pulled himself together, announced in a strange
+voice, "The Pilot can't come," handed me the Psalm, and said:
+
+"Make them sing."
+
+It was that grand Psalm for all hill peoples, "I to the hills will
+lift mine eyes," and with wondering faces they sang the strong,
+steadying words.  After the Psalm was over the people sat and
+waited, Bill looked at the Hon. Fred Ashley, then at Robbie Muir,
+then said to me in a low voice:
+
+"Kin you make a prayer?"
+
+I shook my head, ashamed as I did so of my cowardice.
+
+Again Bill paused, then said:
+
+"The Pilot says there's got to be a prayer.  Kin anyone make one?"
+
+Again dead, solemn silence.
+
+Then Hi, who was near the back, said, coming to his partner's help:
+
+"What's the matter with you trying, yourself, Bill?"
+
+The red began to come up in Bill's white face.
+
+"'Taint in my line.  But The Pilot says there's got to be a prayer,
+and I'm going to stay with the game."  Then, leaning on the pulpit,
+he said:
+
+"Let's pray," and began:
+
+"God Almighty, I ain't no good at this, and perhaps you'll
+understand if I don't put things right."  Then a pause followed,
+during which I heard some of the women beginning to sob.
+
+"What I want to say," Bill went on, "is, we're mighty glad about
+this church, which we know it's you and The Pilot that's worked it.
+And we're all glad to chip in."
+
+Then again he paused, and, looking up, I saw his hard, gray face
+working and two tears stealing down his cheeks.  Then he started
+again:
+
+"But about The Pilot--I don't want to persoom--but if you don't
+mind, we'd like to have him stay--in fact, don't see how we kin do
+without him--look at all the boys here; he's just getting his work
+in and is bringin' 'em right along, and, God Almighty, if you take
+him away it might be a good thing for himself, but for us--oh,
+God," the voice quivered and was silent "Amen."
+
+Then someone, I think it must have been the Lady Charlotte, began:
+"Our Father," and all joined that could join, to the end.  For a
+few moments Bill stood up, looking at them silently.  Then, as if
+remembering his duty, he said:
+
+"This here church is open.  Excuse me."
+
+He stood at the door, gave a word of direction to Hi, who had
+followed him out, and leaping on his bronco shook him out into a
+hard gallop.
+
+The Swan Creek Church was opened.  The form of service may not have
+been correct, but, if great love counts for anything and appealing
+faith, then all that was necessary was done.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE PILOT'S LAST PORT
+
+
+In the old times a funeral was regarded in the Swan Creek country
+as a kind of solemn festivity.  In those days, for the most part,
+men died in their boots and were planted with much honor and loyal
+libation.  There was often neither shroud nor coffin, and in the
+Far West many a poor fellow lies as he fell, wrapped in his own or
+his comrade's blanket.
+
+It was the manager of the X L Company's ranch that introduced
+crape.  The occasion was the funeral of one of the ranch cowboys,
+killed by his bronco, but when the pall-bearers and mourners
+appeared with bands and streamers of crape, this was voted by the
+majority as "too gay."  That circumstance alone was sufficient to
+render that funeral famous, but it was remembered, too, as having
+shocked the proprieties in another and more serious manner.  No one
+would be so narrow-minded as to object to the custom of the return
+procession falling into a series of horse-races of the wildest
+description, and ending up at Latour's in a general riot.  But to
+race with the corpse was considered bad form.  The "corpse-driver,"
+as he was called, could hardly be blamed on this occasion.  His
+acknowledged place was at the head of the procession, and it was a
+point of honor that that place should be retained.  The fault
+clearly lay with the driver of the X L ranch sleigh, containing the
+mourners (an innovation, by the way), who felt aggrieved that Hi
+Kendal, driving the Ashley team with the pall-bearers (another
+innovation), should be given the place of honor next the corpse.
+The X L driver wanted to know what, in the name of all that was
+black and blue, the Ashley Ranch had to do with the funeral?  Whose
+was that corpse, anyway?  Didn't it belong to the X L ranch?  Hi,
+on the other hand, contended that the corpse was in charge of the
+pall-bearers.  "It was their duty to see it right to the grave, and
+if they were not on hand, how was it goin' to get there?  They
+didn't expect it would git up and get there by itself, did they?
+Hi didn't want no blanked mourners foolin' round that corp till it
+was properly planted; after that they might git in their work."
+But the X L driver could not accept this view, and at the first
+opportunity slipped past Hi and his pall-bearers and took the place
+next the sleigh that carried the coffin.  It is possible that Hi
+might have borne with this affront and loss of position with even
+mind, but the jeering remarks of the mourners as they slid past
+triumphantly could not be endured, and the next moment the three
+teams were abreast in a race as for dear life.  The corpse-driver,
+having the advantage of the beaten track, soon left the other two
+behind running neck and neck for second place, which was captured
+finally by Hi and maintained to the grave side, in spite of many
+attempts on the part of the X L's.  The whole proceeding, however,
+was considered quite improper, and at Latour's, that night, after
+full and bibulous discussion, it was agreed that the corpse-driver
+fairly distributed the blame.  "For his part," he said, "he knew he
+hadn't ought to make no corp git any such move on, but he wasn't
+goin' to see that there corp take second place at his own funeral.
+Not if he could help it.  And as for the others, he thought that
+the pall-bearers had a blanked sight more to do with the plantin'
+than them giddy mourners."
+
+But when they gathered at the Meredith ranch to carry out The Pilot
+to his grave it was felt that the Foothill Country was called to a
+new experience.  They were all there.  The men from the Porcupine
+and from beyond the Fort, the Police with the Inspector in command,
+all the farmers for twenty miles around, and of course all the
+ranchers and cowboys of the Swan Creek country.  There was no
+effort at repression.  There was no need, for in the cowboys, for
+the first time in their experience, there was no heart for fun.
+And as they rode up and hitched their horses to the fence, or drove
+their sleighs into the yard and took off the bells, there was no
+loud-voiced salutation, no guying nor chaffing, but with silent nod
+they took their places in the crowd about the door or passed into
+the kitchen.
+
+The men from the Porcupine could not quite understand the gloomy
+silence.  It was something unprecedented in a country where men
+laughed all care to scorn and saluted death with a nod.  But they
+were quick to read signs, and with characteristic courtesy they
+fell in with the mood they could not understand.  There is no man
+living so quick to feel your mood, and so ready to adapt himself to
+it, as is the true Westerner.
+
+This was the day of the cowboy's grief.  To the rest of the
+community The Pilot was preacher; to them he was comrade and
+friend.  They had been slow to admit him to their confidence, but
+steadily he had won his place with them, till within the last few
+months they had come to count him as of themselves.  He had ridden
+the range with them; he had slept in their shacks and cooked his
+meals on their tin stoves; and, besides, he was Bill's chum.  That
+alone was enough to give him a right to all they owned.  He was
+theirs, and they were only beginning to take full pride in him when
+he passed out from them, leaving an emptiness in their life new and
+unexplained.  No man in that country had ever shown concern for
+them, nor had it occurred to them that any man could, till The
+Pilot came.  It took them long to believe that the interest he
+showed in them was genuine and not simply professional.  Then, too,
+from a preacher they had expected chiefly pity, warning, rebuke.
+The Pilot astonished them by giving them respect, admiration, and
+open-hearted affection.  It was months before they could get over
+their suspicion that he was humbugging them.  When once they did,
+they gave him back without knowing it all the trust and love of
+their big, generous hearts.  He had made this world new to some of
+them, and to all had given glimpses of the next.  It was no wonder
+that they stood in dumb groups about the house where the man, who
+had done all this for them and had been all this to them lay dead.
+
+There was no demonstration of grief.  The Duke was in command, and
+his quiet, firm voice, giving directions, helped all to self-
+control.  The women who were gathered in the middle room were
+weeping quietly.  Bill was nowhere to be seen, but near the inner
+door sat Gwen in her chair, with Lady Charlotte beside her, holding
+her hand.  Her face, worn with long suffering, was pale, but serene
+as the morning sky, and with not a trace of tears.  As my eye
+caught hers, she beckoned me to her.
+
+"Where's Bill?" she said.  "Bring him in."
+
+I found him at the back of the house.
+
+"Aren't you coming in, Bill?" I said.
+
+"No; I guess there's plenty without me," he said, in his slow way.
+
+"You'd better come in; the service is going to begin," I urged.
+
+"Don't seem as if I cared for to hear anythin' much.  I ain't much
+used to preachin', anyway," said Bill, with careful indifference,
+but he added to himself, "except his, of course."
+
+"Come in, Bill," I urged.  "It will look queer, you know," but Bill
+replied:
+
+"I guess I'll not bother," adding, after a pause:  "You see, there's
+them wimmin turnin' on the waterworks, and like as not they'd swamp
+me sure."
+
+"That's so," said Hi, who was standing near, in silent sympathy
+with his friend's grief.
+
+I reported to Gwen, who answered in her old imperious way, "Tell
+him I want him."  I took Bill the message.
+
+"Why didn't you say so before?" he said, and, starting up, he
+passed into the house and took up his position behind Gwen's chair.
+Opposite, and leaning against the door, stood The Duke, with a look
+of quiet earnestness on his handsome face.  At his side stood the
+Hon. Fred Ashley, and behind him the Old Timer, looking bewildered
+and woe-stricken.  The Pilot had filled a large place in the old
+man's life.  The rest of the men stood about the room and filled
+the kitchen beyond, all quiet, solemn, sad.
+
+In Gwen's room, the one farthest in, lay The Pilot, stately and
+beautiful under the magic touch of death.  And as I stood and
+looked down upon the quiet face I saw why Gwen shed no tear, but
+carried a look of serene triumph.  She had read the face aright.
+The lines of weariness that had been growing so painfully clear the
+last few months were smoothed out, the look of care was gone, and
+in place of weariness and care, was the proud smile of victory and
+peace.  He had met his foe and was surprised to find his terror
+gone.
+
+The service was beautiful in its simplicity.  The minister, The
+Pilot's chief, had come out from town to take charge.  He was
+rather a little man, but sturdy and well set.  His face was burnt
+and seared with the suns and frosts he had braved for years.  Still
+in the prime of his manhood, his hair and beard were grizzled and
+his face deep-lined, for the toils and cares of a pioneer
+missionary's life are neither few nor light.  But out of his kindly
+blue eye looked the heart of a hero, and as he spoke to us we felt
+the prophet's touch and caught a gleam of the prophet's fire.
+
+"I have fought the fight," he read.  The ring in his voice lifted
+up all our heads, and, as he pictured to us the life of that
+battered hero who had written these words, I saw Bill's eyes begin
+to gleam and his lank figure straighten out its lazy angles.  Then
+he turned the leaves quickly and read again, "Let not your heart be
+troubled . . . in my father's house are many mansions."  His voice
+took a lower, sweeter tone; he looked over our heads, and for a few
+moments spoke of the eternal hope.  Then he came back to us, and,
+looking round into the faces turned so eagerly to him, talked to us
+of The Pilot--how at the first he had sent him to us with fear and
+trembling--he was so young--but how he had come to trust in him and
+to rejoice in his work, and to hope much from his life.  Now it was
+all over; but he felt sure his young friend had not given his life
+in vain.  He paused as he looked from one to the other, till his
+eyes rested on Gwen's face.  I was startled, as I believe he was,
+too, at the smile that parted her lips, so evidently saying:  "Yes,
+but how much better I know than you."
+
+"Yes," he went on, after a pause, answering her smile, "you all
+know better than I that his work among you will not pass away with
+his removal, but endure while you live," and the smile on Gwen's
+face grew brighter.  "And now you must not grudge him his reward
+and his rest . . . and his home."  And Bill, nodding his head
+slowly, said under his breath, "That's so."
+
+Then they sang that hymn of the dawning glory of Immanuel's land,--
+Lady Charlotte playing the organ and The Duke leading with clear,
+steady voice verse after verse.  When they came to the last verse
+the minister made a sign and, while they waited, he read the words:
+
+
+     "I've wrestled on towards heaven
+      'Gainst storm, and wind, and tide."
+
+
+And so on to that last victorious cry,--
+
+
+     "I hail the glory dawning
+      In Immanuel's Land."
+
+
+For a moment it looked as if the singing could not go on, for tears
+were on the minister's face and the women were beginning to sob,
+but The Duke's clear, quiet voice caught up the song and steadied
+them all to the end.
+
+After the prayer they all went in and looked at The Pilot's face
+and passed out, leaving behind only those that knew him best.  The
+Duke and the Hon. Fred stood looking down upon the quiet face.
+
+"The country has lost a good man, Duke," said the Hon. Fred.  The
+Duke bowed silently.  Then Lady Charlotte came and gazed a moment.
+
+"Dear Pilot," she whispered, her tears falling fast.  "Dear, dear
+Pilot!  Thank God for you!  You have done much for me."  Then she
+stooped and kissed him on his cold lips and on his forehead.
+
+Then Gwen seemed to suddenly waken as from a dream.  She turned
+and, looking up in a frightened way, said to Bill hurriedly:
+
+"I want to see him again.  Carry me!"
+
+And Bill gathered her up in his arms and took her in.  As they
+looked down upon the dead face with its look of proud peace and
+touched with the stateliness of death, Gwen's fear passed away.
+But when The Duke made to cover the face, Gwen drew a sharp breath
+and, clinging to Bill, said, with a sudden gasp:
+
+"Oh, Bill, I can't bear it alone.  I'm afraid alone."
+
+She was thinking of the long, weary days of pain before her that
+she must face now without The Pilot's touch and smile and voice.
+
+"Me, too," said Bill, thinking of the days before him.  He could
+have said nothing better.  Gwen looked in his face a moment, then
+said:
+
+"We'll help each other," and Bill, swallowing hard, could only nod
+his head in reply.  Once more they looked upon The Pilot, leaning
+down and lingering over him, and then Gwen said quietly:
+
+"Take me away, Bill," and Bill carried her into the outer room.
+Turning back I caught a look on The Duke's face so full of grief
+that I could not help showing my amazement.  He noticed and said:
+
+"The best man I ever knew, Connor.  He has done something for me
+too. . . .  I'd give the world to die like that."
+
+Then he covered the face.
+
+We sat Gwen's window, Bill, with Gwen in his arms, and I watching.
+Down the sloping, snow-covered hill wound the procession of sleighs
+and horsemen, without sound of voice or jingle of bell till, one by
+one, they passed out of our sight and dipped down into the canyon.
+But we knew every step of the winding trail and followed them in
+fancy through that fairy scene of mystic wonderland.  We knew how
+the great elms and the poplars and the birches clinging to the
+snowy sides interlaced their bare boughs into a network of
+bewildering complexity, and how the cedars and balsams and spruces
+stood in the bottom, their dark boughs weighted down with heavy
+white mantles of snow, and how every stump and fallen log and
+rotting stick was made a thing of beauty by the snow that had
+fallen so gently on them in that quiet spot.  And we could see the
+rocks of the canyon sides gleam out black from under overhanging
+snow-banks, and we could hear the song of the Swan in its many
+tones, now under an icy sheet, cooing comfortably, and then
+bursting out into sunlit laughter and leaping into a foaming pool,
+to glide away smoothly murmuring its delight to the white banks
+that curved to kiss the dark water as it fled.  And where the
+flowers had been, the violets and the wind-flowers and the clematis
+and the columbine and all the ferns and flowering shrubs, there lay
+the snow.  Everywhere the snow, pure, white, and myriad-gemmed, but
+every flake a flower's shroud.
+
+Out where the canyon opened to the sunny, sloping prairie, there
+they would lay The Pilot to sleep, within touch of the canyon he
+loved, with all its sleeping things.  And there he lies to this
+time.  But Spring has come many times to the canyon since that
+winter day, and has called to the sleeping flowers, summoning them
+forth in merry troops, and ever more and more till the canyon
+ripples with them.  And lives are like flowers.  In dying they
+abide not alone, but sow themselves and bloom again with each
+returning spring, and ever more and more.
+
+For often during the following years, as here and there I came upon
+one of those that companied with us in those Foothill days, I would
+catch a glimpse in word and deed and look of him we called, first
+in jest, but afterwards with true and tender feeling we were not
+ashamed to own, our Sky Pilot.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of The Sky Pilot by Ralph Connor
+
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