Douglas waited tensely. The preacher looked to him as if weighted with
mysterious knowledge, as if something infinitely illuminating were to
issue from his bearded lips. The boy had a sudden conviction that Fowler
was about to say something that would answer the longing that had so
oppressed him lately. He hunched his broad, thin shoulders forward, his
clear blue eyes on the preacher's face.

Fowler cleared his throat. "'Moreover, the word of the Lord came unto me,
saying, Now thou son of man, wilt thou judge, wilt thou hide the guilty
city? Yea, thou shalt show her all her abominations.'"

He closed the Bible. "Friends, this is my message and my text. I am going
to show you your abominations of crookednesses. I am going to show you
that hell is yawning for such as you."

Douglas sighed. "Old fool!" he muttered. "As Grandma Brown says, she can
jaw. He's lost his chance with me." He slipped out of the door, mounted
his horse and nodded to the group of youngsters waiting for him. Then he
urged Buster up the steps, through the door and up the aisle. The others
followed him. A moment later, the schoolroom was chaos. Horses pranced
over the desks. Dogs barked and fought among the horses' legs. Babies
screamed. Oaths filled the air. Lost Chief rocked with laughter.

Fowler jumped upon the teacher's desk, appealing in dumb show for order.
A plunging horse tipped the desk over and the minister went down among
the prancing legs. In a moment he was up, and again he raised both hands
in a plea for silence. Douglas, laughing gaily, twirled his lariat, and
pinioned the two pleading hands, then, amidst shouts of laughter, he
backed Buster from the room, drawing the minister none too gently with