The celebration was in full swing; or as Hi put it, "the boys were
takin' their pizen good an' calm," when in walked The Pilot. His face
was still troubled and his lips were drawn and blue, as if he were in
pain. A silence fell on the men as he walked in through the crowd and up
to the bar. He stood a moment hesitating, looking round upon the faces
flushed and hot that were now turned toward him in curious defiance. He
noticed the look, and it pulled him together. He faced about toward old
Latour and asked in a high, clear voice:

"Is this the room you said we might have?"

The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders and said:

"There is not any more."

The lad paused for an instant, but only for an instant. Then, lifting a
pile of hymn books he had near him on the counter, he said in a grave,
sweet voice, and with the quiver of a smile about his lips:

"Gentlemen, Mr. Latour has allowed me this room for a religious service.
It will give me great pleasure if you will all join," and immediately he
handed a book to Bronco Bill, who, surprised, took it as if he did not
know what to do with it. The others followed Bronco's lead till he came
to Bruce, who refused, saying roughly:

"No! I don't want it; I've no use for it."

The missionary flushed and drew back as if he had been struck, but
immediately, as if unconsciously, The Duke, who was standing near,
stretched out his hand and said, with a courteous bow, "I thank you; I