Hold me with Thy powerful hand.”
He came up out of the pass with his head thrown back, and his boy’s face shinin’ with that radiatin’ joy I haven’t ever seen in another face, exceptin’ it first caught the reflection from the Friar’s; and the notion about died out o’ the boys’ minds. They were all friends of his and wouldn’t have hurt his feelin’s for a lot; but they had itched about his weapons for such a spell that they finally had to have it out; so when he rounded a point o’ rock, they stepped out and told him to put his hands up.
They were masked and had him covered, and his hands shot up with a jerk; but he didn’t stop his singin’, and his voice didn’t take on a single waver. Fact was, it seemed if possible a shade more jubilant. He had reached the verse which sez:
“Feed me with the heavenly manna
In this barren wilderness;
Be my sword and shield and banner,
Be the Lord my Righteousness”;
and as he sang with his hands held high above his head, he waved ’em back and forth, playin’ notes in the air with his fingers, the way he did frequent; and it was one o’ the most divertin’ sights I ever saw.
Those blame scamps had all they could do to keep from hummin’ time to his song; for I swear to you in earnest that the Friar could play on a man’s heart the same as if it was a fiddle. He kept on an’ finished the last verse while I crouched above ’em behind a big rock, and fairly hugged myself with the joy of it. Ol’ Tank Williams was a big man and had been chosen out to be the leader an’ do the talkin’, but he hadn’t the heart to jab into the Friar’s singin’; so he waited until it was all over. Then he cleared his throat as though settin’ off a blast of dynamite, and growls out: “Here, you, give us your money.”
Ten six-shooters were pointin’ at the Friar, but I reckon if he had known it would of exploded all of ’em, he’d have had to laugh. He threw back his head and his big free laugh rolled out into the hills, until I had to gnaw at a corner o’ the stone to keep from joinin’ in. “My money!” sez he as soon as he could catch his breath. “Well, boys, boys, whatever put such a notion as that into your heads. Take it, take it, you’re welcome to it; and if you are able to find more than two bits, why, I congratulate you most hearty; because two bits was all I could find this morning, and that will only be a nickle apiece, and five cents is small pay for robbin’ a volunteer missionary.”