After Nickie the Kid had been under the tutelage of the Rev. James for about three weeks, the latter was puzzled to find that Mr. Crips was far from penniless. Now Nickie was paid nothing his services, but every week a small sum, representing his wages, was paid into the Savings Bank, and the deposit was to be transferred to him when he gave proof of complete and perfect regeneration. When asked to account for a bottle of whisky found in his room, and for a burst of inebriety that represented a good deal in spot cash, Nickie quibbled. The quibble was obvious even to an innocent soul like James. James was hurt, but he persisted.
Nickie was content to have the experiment continue, but he held out no great hopes. "You know," he said, "this is your scheme, not mine. You, as it were, forced me to submit. You said you'd reform me in spite of myself. Well, I am patient, and you are earnest, but we don't seem to make much progress."
For seven weeks the Rev. James Nippit continued experimenting and never once lost faith.
James Nippit's pet work was in connection with his reform movement, the Young Men's Mission, a design for upraising the youths of the larrikin and criminal classes. The Young Men's Mission had attracted some attention, people were found willing to contribute to the good work, and this fact gave rise to some imposition. Uncertified persons of bad character were found to be collecting for the fund and appropriating the money to their own use. This caused James much distress of mind.
One Sunday afternoon when driving from his Sunday School the Rev. Nippit was hailed by a trusted friend, who said:
"For the last ten minutes I have been listening to a man preaching on the sands down there. He represents himself as one of the leaders of the Young Men's Mission Movement, and I am confident he is an impostor. If he is, it is your duty to expose him."
The Rev. James took up the task eagerly. Leaving the buggy in charge of a small boy, the two gentle men joined the crowd, and James soon recognised that the speaker was delivering something very like a sermon of his own, but seasoning it with a sort of quaint, insolent humour, that suited the tastes of his hearers admirably. The crowd laughed and applauded.
"Brothers and sisters," said the speaker, "I have shown you that these young men must be divorced from the long-sleever, and rescued from the lures of the plump, peroxided barmaid, and the blandishments of Bung, the reprobate who runs the pub. I have shown you they must be turned from the joys of the 'pushes,' tobacco chewing, and stoushing in offensive Chinamen with bricks, and now I appeal to you for the means of doing things. Money is said to be the root of all evil, but it is also the means of much good. If we want to go to heaven, we must pay the tram fare. He who gives quickly gives twice, but it is better still to give twice and to give quickly."
As he spoke he moved among the people, taking up a collection in his hat, and the people responded liberally. He returned to his little eminence, and the Rev. James Nippit forced his way through the crowd, and confronted him, flushed, furious, over flowing.
"So," said James, "this is the reward of my kindness? This—"