that where she was she'd understand. But I see now it was a terrible
mistake thinking that way and not laying in a supply of religion. A
man thinks he owns himself and that certain things are nobody's
business, but by-and-by along comes a wife or a red-headed baby and
things happen different from what you've ever expected, things that you
just got to have religion for, and gosh--what are you going to do then
if you ain't got any?"

This terrible situation being beyond the mental powers of Hank, that
soul just sat still until Billy puzzled a way out.

"Somebody'd ought to go to church from out this house to-day," went on
Billy in a low voice. "Grandma Wentworth can't go on account of Her
and It. I can't go because--gosh--I'm so kind of split, my head going
one way and my legs another, that as likely as not I'd wind up in the
blacksmith shop or the hotel or fall in the creek. I ain't safe on the
streets to-day, Hank. And, anyway, I've got to keep up fires and water
boiling and them dumb'd frogs under the willows from croaking so's She
can sleep to-night. That leaves nobody but you, Hank."

Billy hesitated, realizing the enormity of the request he was about to
make.

"Hank--I wish to God, you'd go and sort of settle the bill up for me.
Just go, Hank, and tell Him, that's the Big Boss, how darned thankful
we all are about what's happened to-day and that we'll do right by the
little shaver and that we'll try to run the livery business so's He
won't find too many mistakes when He gets around to looking over the
books Barney and you and me's keeping. And you might mention how we've
always made it a point to treat our horses well but will do better in