‘What do you propose?’ I asked.
‘Organising a little congregation here in Black Rock.’
‘How many will you get?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Pretty hopeless business,’ I said.
‘Hopeless! hopeless!’ he cried; ‘there were only twelve of us at first to follow Him, and rather a poor lot they were. But He braced them up, and they conquered the world.’
‘But surely things are different,’ said Graeme.
‘Things? Yes! yes! But He is the same.’ His face had an exalted look, and his eyes were gazing into far-away places.
‘A dozen men in Black Rock with some real grip of Him would make things go. We’ll get them, too,’ he went on in growing excitement. ‘I believe in my soul we’ll get them.’
‘Look here, Craig; if you organise I’d like to join,’ said Graeme impulsively. ‘I don’t believe much in your creed or your Church, but I’ll be blowed if I don’t believe in you.’