"Does any man here think his father or mother has forgotten him or does not care what happens to him?"
Shock was thinking of his own dear old mother, separated from him by so many leagues of empty prairie, but so near to him in love and sympathy.
"Does any man think so?" he repeated, "and do you think your Father in Heaven does not care? Oh! do not think so!" His voice rose in a cry of entreaty. The effect was tremendous.
"God in Heaven, help me!" cried The Kid to himself with a sob in his voice.
"Me too, boss," said Ike gravely, putting his hand on the other's knee.
Shock's farewell was as abrupt as his beginning. In a single sentence he informed them that the services would be discontinued at this end of the field. He wished he could have served them better; he knew he had failed; he asked their forgiveness as he had already asked it of his God; but, though he had failed, he commended them to Him who had never failed any man appealing to Him for help.
There was no hymn, but in a simple, short prayer the service was closed, and before the congregation had recovered from their amazement Shock had passed out through the back door.
"Well, I'll be blanked!" said Ike, with a gasp.
"Quit that, Ike," said The Kid sharply. "Look here—I am going to quit swearing right now, so help me."
"All right, boss, I'm with you; put it there."