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“No,” said a chorus of sympathetic voices. The barkeeper, however, with a swift recollection of Polly and the Reverend Withholder, and some possible contingent jealousy in Jack, added prudently, “Not yet.”

The chorus instantly added reflectively, “Well, no not yet.”

“Did ye ever,” continued Jack solemnly, “know me to cuss, sass, bully-rag, or say anything agin parsons, or the church?”

“No,” said the crowd, overthrowing prudence in curiosity, “ye never did,–we swear it! And now, what’s up?”

“I ain’t what you call ‘a member in good standin’,'” he went on, artistically protracting his climax. “I ain’t be’n convicted o’ sin; I ain’t ‘a meek an’ lowly follower;’ I ain’t be’n exactly what I orter be’n; I hevn’t lived anywhere up to my lights; but is thet a reason why a parson should strike me?”

“Why? What? When did he? Who did?” asked the eager crowd, with one voice.

Jack then painfully related how he had been invited by the Reverend Mr. Withholder to attend the Bible class. How he had arrived early, and found the church empty. How he had taken a seat near the door to be handy when the parson came. How he just felt “kinder kam and good,” listenin’ to the flies buzzing, and must have fallen asleep,–only he pulled himself up every time,–though, after all, it warn’t no crime to fall asleep in an empty church! How “all of a suddent” the parson came in, “give him a clip side o’ the head,” and knocked him off the bench, and left him there!

“But what did he SAY?” queried the crowd.

“Nuthin’. Afore I could get up, he got away.”

“Are you sure it was him?” they asked. “You know you SAY you was asleep.”

“Am I sure?” repeated Jack scornfully. “Don’t I know thet face and beard? Didn’t I feel it hangin’ over me?”

“What are you going to do about it?” continued the crowd eagerly.

“Wait till he comes out–and you’ll see,” said Jack, with dignity.

This was enough for the crowd; they gathered excitedly at the door, where Jack was already standing, looking towards the church. The moments dragged slowly; it might be a long meeting. Suddenly the church door opened and a figure appeared, looking up and down the street. Jack colored–he recognized Polly–and stepped out into the road. The crowd delicately, but somewhat disappointedly, drew back in the saloon. They did not care to interfere in THAT sort of thing.

Polly saw him, and came hurriedly towards him. She was holding something in her hand.

“I picked this up on the church floor,” she said shyly, “so I reckoned you HAD be’n there,–though the parson said you hadn’t,–and I just excused myself and ran out to give it ye. It’s yourn, ain’t it?” She held up a gold specimen pin, which he had put on in honor of the occasion. “I had a harder time, though, to git this yer,–it’s yourn too,–for Billy was laying down in the yard, back o’ the church, and just comf’bly swallerin’ it.”

“Who?” said Jack quickly.

“Billy,–my goat.”

Jack drew a long breath, and glanced back at the saloon. “Ye ain’t goin’ back to class now, are ye?” he said hurriedly. “Ef you ain’t, I’ll–I’ll see ye home.”

“I don’t mind,” said Polly demurely, “if it ain’t takin’ ye outer y’ur way.”

Jack offered his arm, and hurrying past the saloon, the happy pair were soon on the road to Skinners Pass.

Jack did not, I regret to say, confess his blunder, but left the Reverend Mr. Withholder to remain under suspicion of having committed an unprovoked assault and battery. It was characteristic of Rocky Canyon, however, that this suspicion, far from injuring his clerical reputation, incited a respect that had been hitherto denied him. A man who could hit out straight from the shoulder had, in the language of the critics, “suthin’ in him.” Oddly enough, the crowd that had at first sympathized with Jack now began to admit provocations. His subsequent silence, a disposition when questioned on the subject to smile inanely, and, later, when insidiously asked if he had ever seen Polly dancing with the goat, his bursting into uproarious laughter completely turned the current of opinion against him. The public mind, however, soon became engrossed by a more interesting incident.