The padre made no reply, but looked intently at his visitor.
Brown now felt that some remarks on matters religious were due from him.
"I haven't been to church none in California because I'm entirely ignorant of the prevailin' tongue," he started in abruptly. "It's no use to set under preachin' if you don't understand the preacher."
The padre laughed. "Certainly both preacher and congregation would be at a disadvantage in such case."
"I've seen men around Monterey and elsewhere dressed in the same way you are, but I haven't spoke to them, bein' uncertain of their knowledge of my talk."
"I fear that not one of my brethren could understand you."
"So I reckoned. Now, I'm not a religious professor at this time, though I'd delight to set under good preachin'. I and all my folks are hard-shelled Baptists."
"Indeed."
"Yes. But bein' mate on a Mississippi freight boat and handlin' nigger deck hands begets an unregenerate spirit."
"You found it so?"