“In this wildly lawless and sinful community, sir,” says he, “I find that my humble 171 efforts at moral improvement are best advanced by identifying my life as closely as may be with the lives of those whom I would lead to higher planes. At first, in my ignorance, I held aloof from participating in the customs––many of them, seemingly, objectionable––of my parishioners. Naturally, in turn, they held aloof from me. I made no impression upon them. The good seed that I scattered freely fell upon barren ground. Now, as the result of experience, and of much soulful thought, I am wiser. Over a friendly glass at the bar of the Forest Queen, or at other of the various bars in our little town, I can talk to a parishioner with a kindly familiarity that brings him close to me. By taking part in the games of chance which form the main amusement of my flock, I still more closely can identify their interests with my own––and even materially improve, by such winnings as come to me in our friendly encounters, our meagre parish finances. I have as yet taken no share in the gun-fights which too frequently occur in our somewhat tempestuous little community; but I am 172 seriously considering the advisability of still farther strengthening my hold upon the respect and the affection of my parishioners by now and then exchanging shots with them. I am confident that such energetic action on my part will tend still more to endear me to them––and, after all, I must not be too nicely fastidious as to means if I would compass my end of winning their trust and their esteem.”
While Santa Fé was talking along so slick about the way he managed his parsoning, the little man’s eyes was getting bulgier and bulgier; and when it come to his taking a hand in shooting-scrapes they looked like they was going to jump out of his head. All he could say was: “Good Lord!” Then he kind of gagged, and said he’d be obliged if he could get his brandy-and-soda right off.
Charley steered him across to the Forest Queen, and when he had his drink in him, and another on top of it, he seemed to get some of his grip back. But even after his drinks he seemed like he thought he must be asleep and dreaming; and he said twice over 173 he’d never heard tell of such doings in all his born days.
Santa Fé just give a wink across the bar to Blister Mike––who didn’t need much winking, being a wide-awake one––and then he went ahead with some more of the same kind. “No doubt, my dear sir, in the older civilization to which you are accustomed my methods would seem irregular––perhaps even reprehensible. In England, very likely, unfavorable comment would be made upon a pastor who cordially drank with members of his flock at public bars; who also––I do not hesitate, you see, to give our little games of chance their harshest name––in a friendly way gambled with them; and I can imagine that the spectacle of a parish priest engaging with his parishioners, up and down the street of a quiet village, in a fight with six-shooters and Winchesters would be very generally disapproved.”
“It is impossible, quite impossible,” says the little man, sort of gaspy, “to imagine such a horrible monstrosity!”
“Very likely for you, sir,” says Charley, 174 speaking affable, “it is. But you must remember that ours is a young and a vigorous community––too young, too vigorous, to be cramped and trammelled by obsolete conventions and narrow Old-World rules. Life with us, you see, has an uncertain suddenness––owing to our energetic habit of settling our little differences promptly, and in a decisive way. At the last meeting of our Sunshine Club, for instance––as the result of a short but heated argument––Brother Michael, here, felt called upon to shoot a fellow-member. While recognizing that the occurrence was unavoidable, we regretted it keenly––Brother Michael most of all.”
“Sure I did that,” said Blister, playing out quick to the lead Charley give him. “But your Reverence remembers he drew on me first––and if he’d been sober enough to shoot straight it’s meself, and not him, would be by now living out in the cemetery on the mesa; and another’d be serving your drinks to you across this bar. I had the rights on my side.”
“Precisely,” says Charley. “You see, sir, 175 it was a perfectly fair fight. Brother Michael and his fellow-member exchanged their shots in an honorable manner––and, while we mourn the sudden decease of our friend lost to us, our friend who survives has suffered no diminution of our affectionate regard. Had the shooting been unfair, then the case would have gone into another category––and our community promptly would have manifested the sturdy sense of justice that is inherent in it by hanging the man by whom the unfair shot had been fired. Believe me, sir”––and Santa Fé stood up straight and stuck his chest out––“Palomitas has its own high standards of morality: and it never fails to maintain those standards in its own stern way!”
The little man didn’t say nothing back. He looked like he was sort of mazed. All he did was to ask for another brandy-and-soda; and when he’d took it he allowed he’d skip having his bath and get at his eating right away––saying he was feeling faintish, and maybe what he needed was food. Of course that was no time of day to get victuals: but 176 Santa Fé was a good one at managing, and he fixed it up so he had some sort of a hash layout; and before he went at it he give him a wash-up in his own room.
It was while he was hashing, Charley said, the notion come to him how Palomitas might have some real sport with him––the same kind they had when Hart’s aunt come on her visit, only twisting things round so it would be the holy terror side of the town that had the show. And he said as he’d started in with the preacher racket, he thought they might keep that up too––and make such an out and out mix-up for the little man as would give cards to any tenderfoot game that ever was played. Santa Fé always was full of his pranks: and this one looked to pan out so well, and was so easy done, that he went right across to the deepo and had a talk with Wood about how things had better be managed; and Wood, who liked fun as much as anybody, caught on quick and agreed to take a hand.