"First I made them elect Brother Peyton treasurer. He wasn't doing anything except waiting for the bank to resume business. Then I canvassed all the names on the rosters and combed the neighboring ranches for small monthly contributions. I got enough subscriptions to pay the minister and paint the church house. But it was some job. It took two weeks. Two weeks of joy and rebuffs, of elations and disgust. I was tired. I planned to rest up a couple of weeks and wait for my halo, or wings, or whatever a Christian gets for doing his whole duty; when right on the heels of my labors, came the greatest catastrophe that could have happened."
"Did the meetin' house burn down?" interrupted Landy, who had followed the recitals intently. "Did the preacher gent die, er did Brother Peyton jump the game, taking the jackpot with him?"
"No, nothing like that. The Nazarenes moved in! You both know about the Nazarenes?"
Davy did. He had noticed their meetings in cities. But with Landy, the subject was a blank page and he withheld comment. In later months he confessed that he thought that the Lough gal was nuts in tryin' to project the Saviour en some of his kin onto Adot.
"The Nazarenes are new in this country," continued the girl, "and they have all the enthusiasm of the new convert. Really, they seem to have the early zeal that some of the churches have lost. And they are a stubborn lot. That the field seems barren, is nothing to them. They set up shop in a desert and carry on just the same. To them, poverty is an asset. Christ's admonition to the rich man, to give his substance away and follow Him, is a literal command to be obeyed.
"In the week following my campaign for the Methodist, two Nazarenes, a young man and his wife, came barging into Adot and set up for business. She took up cooking and waiting table in Jode's restaurant for their board, and he went about the street preaching and about the house praying, day and night. They were both good singers and he played an accordion. In that week they talked Joe Burns into letting them have the use of the old mercantile warehouse, and they set up meetings in that big, barn of a place. That same week they came out here, in a truck they had borrowed, to get me to help them as I had the Methodists.
"Well, of all things, you just cannot say 'no' to such people. Why, I almost insulted them; told them Adot was a barren field, overworked and already supplied with their spiritual needs. But I failed to impress them. They even wanted to pray for me. Me, who thought I was already sainted for my work with the Methodists! Then I went on another tack; I explained that I had already exhausted my resources in my work with others; that I had canvassed everyone and could not, consistently, go over the field asking for subscriptions for another organization. That failed. They insisted that they wanted only a start, just a little influence; and that I should come and assist them some night!
"They trapped me. To get rid of them, I half-way promised to aid in some sort of an entertainment to help them get their first money; after that, they were to be on their own resources. And while I was berating myself and wondering how to get out of it, or how to get in it, Landy here came with the news that a little showman was to visit us here on the plateau and that he wanted a horse. Right then and there the clouds lifted; the problem was solved."
Adine let her voice fall, pushed her chair back from the conference table and folded her arms. Landy drummed on the table and looked thoughtful. Davy wiggled around on his high perch and nearly fell off the dictionary.
"Well, that's a fine story, Miss Adine, and well told, but I don't get the connection as to why you are not to sell the little horse."