"Say," said Ike to The Kid, who sat next to him, "they'll be gettin' out their guns sure!" But there was no anger in the faces lifted up to the speaker; the matter was too serious for anger and the tone was too kindly for offence. Without hesitation Shock went on with his terribly relentless indictment of the men who sat before him. Then, with a swift change of tone and thought, he cried in a voice vibrating with compassion:
"And you cannot help it, men! The pity of it is, you cannot help it! You cannot change your hearts; you love these things, you cannot shake them off, they have grown upon you and have become your fixed habits. Some of you have tried: I know you have had your periods of remorse and you have sought to escape, but you have failed."
He paused a moment, and then continued in a voice humble and remorseful:
"I have failed, too. I thought in my pride and my folly that I could help you, but I have failed. We have failed together, men—what then is before us?"
His voice took a deeper tone, his manner was earnestly respectful and tenderly sympathetic, as he set before them the Divine Man, so quick to sympathise, so ready and so powerful to help.
"He is the same to-night, men! Appeal to Him and He will respond as He did to this poor leprous man."
Over and over again he urged this upon them, heaping argument upon argument, seeking to persuade them that it was worth while making the attempt.
"Say, boss, seems reasonable, don't it, and easy, too?" said Ike to The Kid, who was listening with face pale and intent. The Kid nodded without moving his eager eyes from the speaker's face.
"But I can't just git the throw, quite," continued Ike, with a puzzled air.
"Hush, listen!" said The Kid sharply. Shock had paused abruptly. For a few moments he stood looking into the eyes of the men gaping back at him with such intense eagerness; then leaning forward a little he said in a voice low, but thrilling with emotions: