"Well," said Ike, "hangin's too good for him.He ought to be hung, but 'taint the custom in this here country, I understand, and Isurmise we'd better scare the daylights out of him and give him twelve hours to get out."After some further discussion Ike's proposition was accepted.That night four masked men took Crawley out of the room where he had been kept a prisoner and led him out of the village and up the trail to the woods, and there, unheeding his prayers and cries and groans, they made solemn preparations for his execution.In the midst of their preparations Sinclair, with a number.of others, came galloping up and demanded the prisoner's release, and after a long and bitter discussion it was finally agreed that Crawley should be given twelve hours to leave the country, which decision was joyfully and tearfully accepted by the terror-stricken wretch.
"Hello, old man, there's a letter for you in my rooms.Thought you'd be in to-day, so took care of it for you." Father Mike drew near Shock's buckboard and greeted him cordially."By Jove! what's the matter with you? What have you been doing to yourself?" he exclaimed, looking keenly into Shock's face.
"I am rather seedy," said Shock."Played out, indeed." And he gave Father Mike an account of his last week's experience.
"Great Caesar!" exclaimed Father Mike, "that was a close thing.Come right along and stretch yourself out of my couch.A cup of tea will do you good." Shock, gladly accepting the invitation, went with him.
"There's your letter," said Father Mike, as he set Shock in his deep armchair."You read it while I make tea."The letter was, as Father Mike had said, a fat one.It was from his Convener and ran thus:
"MY DEAR MR.MACGREGOR:"
"The enclosed letter from the Superintendent will explain itself.
You are instructed to withdraw forthwith your services from the Fort.I know you will be disappointed.This is the sort of thing that makes our work in the West depressing: not big blizzards nor small grants, but failure on the part of Eastern men to understand our needs and to appreciate the tremendous importance of these years to the West.Never mind, our day will come.I regret greatly that the Committee should have been influenced by the petition enclosed.
Do not let this worry you.The Superintendent's P.S.is due to some misunderstanding.I have written him on this matter.We know some of your difficulties and we have every confidence in you," etc., etc.
From the Superintendent's letter the Convener had enclosed the following extracts:
"It has been decided to withdraw our services from the Fort.I had a stiff fight in the Committee, but failed; they were all against me.
Dr.Macfarren especially so--had private information (from his brother, I suppose); presented a petition, which find enclosed;protested against the waste of funds, etc., etc.This precious petition, by the way, seemed to influence the Committee greatly.Ineed not tell you it failed to influence me, unless indeed as an evidence of the need of our services in that place.You and I have seen this sort of thing before in the West.Young Lloyd of the Park Church, too, was eloquent in opposing--the old story, funds overlapping, denominational rivalry.These young men, who decline to face the frontier, would show better taste in seeking to learn something of the West than in hampering those who are giving their lives to this work.The upholstered seat of the Park Church pulpit does not induce the liveliest sympathy with the Western conditions.
Meantime the Convener sits on the chest, and the rest of the Committee seem to feel that their chief duty lies in cutting down expenses and that the highest possible achievement is their meeting the Assembly without a deficit.""P.S.--Dr.Macfarren hinted a good deal at want of tact on the part of our Missionary, and young Lloyd, who knows Macgregor, seemed to consider this quite possible.Our Missionary must not antagonise men unnecessarily.Send him this letter if you think well; I always like to deal frankly with our men," etc., etc.
As Shook read the letters and glanced at the petition his look of weariness passed away and the old scrimmage smile came back to his face."Read that," he said, handing the letters to Father Mike, who read them in silence.
"Withdraw!" he exclaimed in astonishment when he had finished reading."And why, pray?""Oh! don't you see, 'funds overlapping, denominational rivalry'?""'Overlapping, rivalry,' rot! You cannot do my work here and Icannot do yours.I say, this petition would be rich if it were not so damnable," added Father Mike, glancing at the document.
"'Whereas, the town is amply supplied with church services there is no desire for services by the Presbyterians'--or by any others for that matter," interjected Father Mike."Let us see who signs this blessed paper? Macfarren.He's a beautiful churchman.Inspector Haynes.What's he got to do with it? Frank, Smith, Crozier! Why, the thing is a farce! Not a man of them ever goes to church.'Whereas, the Presbyterians are quite unable to assume any financial obligation in support of a minister.' Why, the whole outfit doesn't contribute a dollar a month.Isn't it preposterous, a beastly humbug! Who is this young whipper-snapper, Lloyd, pray?" Father Mike's tone was full of contempt.
Shock winced.His friend had touched the only, place left raw by the letter."He is a college friend of mine," he answered quickly."Afine fellow and a great preacher."
