they thought it preferable to be killed and eaten by cannibals than to
be tumbled into a gulch by a revolver-shot, while the shootist strolled
calmly off in company with his approving conscience, never thinking to
ascertain whether his bullet had completed the business, or whether a
wounded man might not have to fight death and coyotes together.

At any rate, the missionaries let Hanney's alone. If any one with an
unquenchable desire to carry the Word where it is utterly unknown, a
digestion without fear, and a full-proof article of common sense (these
last two requisites are absolute), should be looking for an eligible
location, Hanney's is just the place for him, and he need give himself
no trouble for fear some one would step in before him. If he has several
dozens of similarly constituted friends, they can all find similar
locations by betaking themselves to any mining camp in the West.

As Hanney's had no preacher, it will be readily imagined it had no
church. With the first crowd who located there came an insolvent
rumseller from the East. He called himself Pentecost, which was as near
his right name as is usual with miners, and the boys dubbed his shop
"Pentecost Chapel" at once. The name, somehow, reached the East, for
within a few months there reached the post-office at Hanney's a document
addressed to "Preacher in charge of Pentecost Chapel." The postmaster
went up and down the brook in high spirits, and told the boys; they
instantly dropped shovel and pan, formed line, and escorted the
postmaster and document to the chapel. Pentecost acknowledged the joke,
and stood treat for the crowd, after which he solemnly tore the wrapper,
and disclosed the report of a certain missionary society. Modestly
expressing his gratification at the honor, and his unworthiness of it,
he moved that old Thompson, who had the loudest voice in the crowd,
should read the report aloud, he, Pentecost, volunteering to furnish