They drifted in, one by one and in couples, during the evening, these people deprived so long of the inspiration of worship in a public sense, some bringing hymn-books of various sorts and a few Bibles. But Hunt had not come to Canyon Pass unprepared on that score for church work. He had brought with him from the East fifty hymn-books of the more popular kind and a dozen Bibles for the use of the congregation in general. When these had been distributed about the benches they made, Mother Tubbs declared, “a mighty tasty show.”
Betty was present to be introduced to the women of the camp. Whatever her private feelings were, the parson’s sister could be, and was on this occasion, a very helpful assistant to her brother. If the Passonians felt a little awkward, Betty put them quickly at their ease. She made a most fortunate impression on them all, and the general opinion was “that that Eastern gal was a perfect lady.”
Joe Hurley appeared with some of the younger men. They were all scrubbed till their faces shone, shaved to a nicety, and their hair “slicked” and anointed with everything Jose, the Mexican barber, had on his shelves.
“Umph!” murmured Mother Tubbs, wrinkling her nose appreciatively. “Certainly smells proper good since them fellers come in yere. I never did see why bay rum smells so much better than drinkin’ rum. And bay rum’s the only kind of liquor I approve of. The other I only get at second-hand—on Sam’s breath!”
It was late in the evening, and the town was getting lively, though it seemed not so noisy as on most pay-nights, when they scattered from the door of the meeting room.
Hunt and Betty were the last to go. He latched the door behind them, but there was no thought in his mind of locking it. That anybody would enter the place before morning did not cross his thought.
But later in the night, when this end of Main Street was deserted and the frolicking in the various amusement places was continued only by a few irrepressibles, a figure stole out of the alley beside the old Tolley building and slipped into the room prepared for the first Sunday service in Canyon Pass.
Without a light in the place the intruder had some difficulty in reaching the desk; once there, some few moments elapsed while the uninvited visitor climbed into the pulpit and opened carefully the big Bible. When the book was as carefully closed again, without the white book-marks the parson had placed in it having been disturbed, the obtrusive one departed.
Outside, there seemed an air of satisfaction about the very way this unknown individual walked away. In addition, a very determined—almost viciously resolved-voice observed:
“There! If that impudent pulpit-pounder don’t get his, I miss my guess!”