it was the acceptance of the challenge to attend the "hop" at the bonanza camp that popularized the services at the banner mines.

1. a young miner before his dark and dingy cabin. 2. a mine and bunk-house. 3. "they buried her half a mile from the camp." (see page 48).

1. a young miner before his dark and dingy cabin.

2. a mine and bunk-house.

3. "they buried her half a mile from the camp." (see page 48).

after the open-air meeting a number of men lounged around one of the shacks discussing the question of religion. when one of the preachers approached the group to invite them to the meeting in the hall, "smut" ludlow at once began to air his grievances against the church, and to inform the preacher that there were "more —— rascals in the church than in any other organization on earth." then frank stacy contributed his bit of condemnation: "see here, preacher! the last time i was back east, i thought i'd see what sort of a show they was still running in yer house o' god, and so i went in. just over the archway inside was a fine piece of writing, something about 'the rich and the poor meeting together, and going snooks.' i thought it sounded pretty good, so i made myself as comfortable as i could in one of them soft seats. after a while some dude started to play the organ, and folks dressed up fit to kill strutted into their seats and bobbed their heads down and pretended to say their prayers. then i watched an old guy trying to get his overcoat off: i mind how his other coat well-nigh come off with it; he sure was scared when he saw his shirt sleeve, and he hustled both his coats on again like he'd been caught stealing. just then somebody tapped me on the shoulder, and a coon with a silk tile in his hand told me to sit at the back where the seats weren't rented. i went back looking like a fool, but you bet i didn't stop for a back seat: i decided i'd take an outside berth, and it'll be a few hundred years before this chicken gets caught again. rich and poor meet together, and go snooks! it looked like it, didn't it? see here, preacher, ain't it about time you fellers stopped talking one thing and serving up another? the whole thing is tommy-rot, that's what i say."

1. company houses in a mountain mining town. 2. he said he was "the only gentleman in the place" (see page 34). 3. an open-air meeting in british columbia mining camp, between shifts. 4. miners at entrance to a british columbia mine.

1. company houses in a mountain mining town.

2. he said he was "the only gentleman in the place" (see page 34).

3. an open-air meeting in british columbia mining camp, between shifts.

4. miners at entrance to a british columbia mine.

hal rinnell was not antagonistic, but objected to an illustration that the preacher had used. "say, preacher, warn't that there story about the bishop and the silver candlesticks a bit fishy? you mind you said about the feller swiping 'em after the bishop had give him a bed, and then he got away with 'em through the night; and when the p'liceman saw him with 'em next morning, and know'd they belonged to the bishop, they jest nabbed him and brought him back. and you mind you said the bishop told 'em the man didn't swipe the candlesticks, but got 'em from him as a present. then when the p'lice was gone, the bishop called the thief 'brother,' and made him keep his haul and promise to be square from that on. now that ain't reasonable: it ain't human nature. i'd like to see the pumpkin-head what would swipe my candlesticks, if i had any, arter i'd give him a decent bed. he'd hev his next breakfast in hades, you bet. some o' you preachers ain't reasonable; you kinder get yer wires crossed."

the cross-firing ended by a proposition from "smut." "there's going to be a hot old time to-morrow night at the bonanza, preacher. i'll make a deal with you. you don't like our style; we don't like your hot air. you attend the ball at bonanza, we'll attend your show, providing you start when we start, and leave when we leave, and get home as soon as we do. how's that, boys?" the "boys" trusted smut's judgment, and knew by his wink that the proposition was safe, hence their unanimity to make it a "go." none of them dreamed that the proposal would be accepted, but after a moment's conference with his fellow-worker the preacher agreed; and in order that there should be no misunderstanding, he repeated smut's proposition.

the following evening the six-mile walk to the bonanza was commenced, and the second party to the contract followed the leaders. the first mile of trail was familiar to the preacher, then the way led over rarely-travelled paths. carefully he took his bearings when that was possible, for few landmarks existed. he observed the whisperings and smiles when the way was wide enough for two or three of the men to walk together, and surmised that he was the subject of the conversation.

at last the bonanza was reached, and already the gaudily-decorated dining-room of the boarding-house resounded with laughter and shouting from well-nigh a hundred guests. from all corners of the district they had gathered, for where social opportunities are so rare the camp ball is a great event.

the "band" consisted of violin, cornet, and horn, accompanied by the rhythmic pounding of the performers' feet.

women were scarce in the district, and most of the men desired to dance with every woman present, so that the periods of rest were few and short.

liquor was dispensed freely, and some of the dancers became hilarious and others quarrelsome.

only once was there anything approaching a fight. "nell" webster, a notorious character, who was once well known in the crime colony of an american city because of her more than ordinary attractiveness, had passed through many degrading experiences, and had eventually taken up her abode at the bonanza. excessive use of drugs and liquor had wrecked her attractiveness, but a dance was considered incomplete without her, and when excited by intoxicants she could "hold the floor with any of them." it was through one miner attempting to monopolize nell's dances that the quarrel arose. heated words, then curses and threats, created an ugly situation, until a few of the more sober managed to separate the angered ones. it was the last night they would quarrel over nell. her mad race was ended. the girl of beauty had let sin become her taskmaster, and now for years her cup of pleasure had contained only the dregs. step by step the progress had been downward. once, "respectable" men with refined brutality had made her think she was their valued companion, and then, like an orange from which the sweetness had been extracted, they had cast her off. for a time she gained notoriety by being the wife of len walsh, counterfeiter, burglar, confidence-man, and all-round crook. at that time she was known as "len walsh's woman," but when len lapsed from clever crime to simple drunkenness, she left him and took another name. and now for years her associates had been drunks and crooks.

once during the revelry, as an opportunity presented itself, the preacher spoke a few words to her about her terrible mode of living. he thought there was a shadow of remorse as, with a forced smile, she replied, "i don't give a d—— now; better try it on somebody younger."

two days later the preacher was asked to return to the bonanza and "make a last prayer over nell." they had found her lifeless body the morning following the camp ball. her grimy shack was littered with bottles and glasses, and there were evidences of a fracas—sin-marred, sin-mauled nell lay on the filthy floor in the dress she had worn at the dance. they buried her half a mile from the camp, and one of the boys crudely carved the word "nell" on a cedar post, and placed it at the head of the solitary grave amid the lonely mountains. few sadder moments has the preacher ever spent than the ones occupied in the burial of nell. again and again were her last words to him recalled—words that have since become an appeal in behalf of the wandering: "i don't give a d—— now; better try it on somebody younger."

but to return to the dance. it was long past midnight when the "banner" contingent started for home. there was something of interest that smut had to confidentially communicate to each man. then there was a hurried shout, "all right, boys," and the crowd immediately disappeared in the darkness. thus far the preacher had kept his part in the agreement, but smut ludlow was planning that on the homeward journey the rest of the contract must be made impossible.

the miners struck a furious pace, and the preacher was for a few minutes unable to see the winding way, but he stumbled along as rapidly as the hindmost of his fellow-travellers. very soon he realized that many of the men could not maintain that pace for long, and so, refraining from conversation, he held himself well in reserve, being content to take his pace from the slowest in the line. for half an hour no change in position took place. the foremost men were chuckling to themselves over "shaking" the preacher, and were wondering how far back on the trail he was, and whether he would spend the next few hours in the woods waiting for daylight. but their mirth was short-lived. the preacher decided that it was his move next. he could hear the panting of the men immediately ahead of him, and at a favourable opportunity he increased the length and speed of his stride, and passed two of the boys. at each widening of the trail he performed the same feat, until only smut remained ahead.

smut was mightily amazed when he discovered who was his nearest fellow-traveller, and an oath escaped him. with vigorously swinging arms he made every effort to keep the lead, trying for a while to do a "jog-trot," but his feet began to drag heavily, and once or twice he stumbled. no word was exchanged, for smut was being pressed to the utmost expenditure of his strength, and the other contestant had never more longed for victory. more than once he had received the cheers of the thousands when he was the favourite on mcgill's field-day, but somehow he felt to-night larger issues were at stake than the athletic glory of a college. he was still comparatively fresh, for he had been only an onlooker at the dance, and had no alcohol in his system. narrating his final contest to his fellow-worker, he said, "if ever i prayed samson's prayer with all my heart it was right then: 'strengthen me, i pray thee, only this once, o god.'"

at last the two men were side by side, but only for a few seconds. with the enthusiasm of a victor the preacher quickly lengthened the distance, and managed to spare enough breath to call back, "come on, boys; it's no use hanging around here all night." at the first winding of the trail he broke into a run, and kept it up until he reached the bunk-house. with all possible speed he unlaced his boots, threw off his coat, made himself as comfortable as possible, and when the boys filed in he was sitting alongside of the dining-table with his feet on a box and a book in his hand, looking as though he had been having a quiet night of reading.

poor smut! if ever a man had it rubbed in, it was smut ludlow. even before the camp was reached the attack commenced. "smut, you're a —— fool, and you've made —— fools of every —— man in the camp," started frank stacey.

but with characteristic western fair-play the preacher's stock went up rapidly. "that sky pilot ain't no slouch." "gee! whiz! you should have seen him give smut the go-by when he was plunging around like a whale in shallow water, and puffing like the 'dummy' when she's trying to make the grade with too big a haul." many similar expressions went the round the next day, and the preacher was no longer regarded as the under-dog.

"say, pilot," said frank at the noon hour, "where d'you learn that gait you struck last night?" with a smile came the quiet reply, "i was brought up on the farm, and used to drive the calves to the water." as frank walked away he remarked, "yer guv'nor must have raised blamed good calves."

the most annoying result of the whole incident, so far as the men were concerned, lay in the fact that they were in honour bound to attend the evangelistic meeting. to some it was so exasperating that they suggested the violation of the contract. but that was not to be thought of in the opinion of the majority. "we was licked, and we'll take our medicine, though it's —— hard to swaller," said hal rinnell.

for the meeting that night the hand-printed signs gave the information that a series of lantern slides would be exhibited at the commencement of the service.

a few minutes after the opening, and while a popular gospel hymn was being sung, about a dozen men availed themselves of the mercifulness of the semi-darkness, and slipped into back seats. by the time the lights were turned up they had become accustomed to their surroundings, and bore with fair grace the suggestive glances that were directed towards them.

the appeal was based on the words: "i find no fault in this man." all the controversial weaknesses of the church were dismissed, and the great problems of heart and life were dealt with in a manly, sympathetic manner, and men's thoughts were directed to that one whose name still occupies its splendid solitary pre-eminence. before any person left the building, the speaker was in his accustomed place at the door to speak a personal word and give a handshake. frank stacey clasped the proffered hand with genuine cordiality, and in a voice that was heard by all, said, "you're playing a bully good game, preacher. you hit as good a pace to-night as last night, and if you keep it up you'll lick us to a finish before your innings is out."

smut ludlow was not in good humour, and as the boys sat around the bunk-house stove having their last smoke for the day, he was clearly disgusted and maddened at the changed attitude of the camp toward the preacher. once he expressed himself after frank had praised the preacher for his "grit." "you're a —— lot of turncoats; things are in a —— of a mess if you fellows can be bamboozled by one of these —— parasites."

"well! we ain't the only ones what were bamboozled, smut. he sure put it all over you last night, and if you had enough brains to fill a thimble you'd keep your fool mouth shut." never in their long acquaintance had frank opposed smut to the extent of this deliverance, but there was no question but that the preacher had overcome frank's opposition and aroused his admiration. "anyhow," he continued, "that chap's a different brand to most of 'em, and i kinder think he can put up the genuine goods."

frank threw his clothes over the line and clambered into his untidy bunk, and long after the heavy breathing of wearied men had become general he lay with strangely new thoughts. he agreed with the preacher that it wasn't a square deal to "find no fault in this man," and then to deliver him to be crucified. and that night the preacher had, by numerous illustrations, compelled the worst of men to pay their tribute to him who was the highest that humanity has known; and yet were they any "squarer" to him than pilate was? had they not much more evidence than pilate had, and yet, in the face of an absolutely unanimous verdict of "not guilty," they pronounced what was equal to the death penalty. again and again frank said to himself "that ain't square."

there was not a seat to spare in the dance-hall during the subsequent nights. frank stacey missed no service, and when, at the mission's close, a meeting was called of those interested in the organization of a church and the erection of a building, he was one of the little company.

when six months later they were ready to occupy the new church, frank was insistent that mr. ——, "the man who showed smut where to get off," should be the preacher for the day. "impossible," said a number; "it would cost over thirty dollars for railway fare alone." "impossible nothing!" was frank's response; and twenty-four hours later he handed fifty dollars to the treasurer for railway fare and pulpit supply, and after two weeks of correspondence the announcement was made that the desired speaker was coming.

no one enjoyed the day of the opening more than frank. the building of the church had absorbed all his interest, and now the effort was crowned with success. for several nights a dozen welsh and english miners had practised the hymns "to give the thing a good send-off." they sat in the corner near the reading-desk, and led the music with increasing confidence as the day's services progressed.

"i guess the devil over-reached himself when he tried to make a fool of the preacher the night of the dance," said frank, as a group stood outside at the close of the afternoon's communion service. "'tain't often he gets as hard hit in the neck by his friends as he was that night."

the church at the "banner" has had its ups and downs during the past three years. one of the mines has closed, and many shacks are now unoccupied. frank stacey has gone over to vancouver island, and some of the "charter members" have ceased their earthly labours; but each sabbath-day a few faithful ones, "the salt of the earth," gather for worship in the church that smut ludlow unwittingly caused to be built.