An old-fashioned exhorting evangelist was holding forth to three listless and inattentive sinners.  A tired-looking woman sat at a miniature portable organ.  At the close of the services California John wandered forward.

“I’m plumb busted,” said he frankly, “and that’s the reason I couldn’t chip in.  I couldn’t buy fleas for a dawg.  I’m afraid you didn’t win much.”

The preacher looked gloomily at a nickle and a ten-cent piece.

“Dependin’ on this sort of thing to get along?” asked California John.

“Yes,” said the preacher.  The woman looked out of the window.

California John said no more, but went out of the building and down the street to Austin’s saloon.

“Howdy, boys,” he greeted the loungers and card players.  “Saw off a minute.  There’s goin’ to be a gospel meetin’ right here a half-hour from now.  I’m goin’ to hold it and I’m goin’ out now to rustle a congregation.  At the close we’ll take up a collection for the benefit of the church.”

At the end of the period mentioned he placed himself behind the bar and faced a roomful of grinning men.

“This is serious, boys.  Take off your hat, Bud.  Wipe them snickers off’n your face.  We’re all sinners; and I reckon now’s as good a time as any to realize the fact.  I don’t know much about the Bible; but I do recall enough to hold divine services for once, and I intend to have ’em respected.”

For fifteen minutes California John conducted his services according to his notion.  Then he stated briefly his cause and took up his collection.

“Nine-forty-five,” said he thoughtfully, looking at the silver.  He carefully extracted two nickels, and dumped the rest in his pocket.  “I reckon I’ve earned a drink out of this,” he stated; “any objections?”

There were none; so California John bought his drink and departed.

“That’s all right,” he told the astonished and grateful evangelist, “I had to do somethin’ to blow off steam, or else go on a hell of a drunk.  And it would have been plumb ruinous to do that.  So you see, it’s lucky I met you.”  The old man’s twinkling and humorous blue eyes gazed quizzically at the uneasy evangelist, divided between gratitude and his notion that he ought to reprobate this attitude of mind.  Then they softened.  California John laid his hand on the preacher’s shoulder.  “Don’t get discouraged,” said he; “don’t do it.  The God of Justice still rules.  I’ve just had some news that proves it.”

XXIV

From this moment the old man held his head high, and went about the work with confidence.  He built trails where trails had long been needed; he regulated the grazing; he fought fire so successfully that his burned area dropped that year from two per cent. to one-half of one per cent.; he adjusted minor cases of special use and privilege justly.  Constantly he rode his district on the business of his beloved