fares to Redwood City, leaving us with the sum total of sixty cents.

Before proceeding on this undertaking, we occupied every hour of the
day, with but few exceptions, in active preparation; our evenings and
Sundays we spent in church or prison, or among the outcasts. I am
indebted to Lucy for admission into many heretofore forbidden places,
where she would be invariably welcomed with such a greeting as this:

"Well, hello, Kid! glad to see you. When did you get out? How's all the
rest of them?"

"This is my dear Mother Roberts," she would say. "Please welcome her
for my sake. I want to tell you I'm not one of you any longer. I've
found my Savior. Don't I look different? Don't I look happy?"

"You bet yer life y' do, Kid. Say, we don't mind being preached to if
you'll do the preaching. Go on girlie, pitch in, we-uns would like to
hear from the likes of you, cause we know you," etc.

The precious girl! How she enthused all of us as she told the wonderful
story and implored them to seek the Savior! Always we finished with
prayer. Even bar-tenders, saloon-keepers, and women overseers over the
girls in the various dives were touched by Lucy's brief messages from
God. The time was all too short on these occasions. As we said our
final farewells (July 1, 1903), it was impossible to count the number
of those who said: "Y've done me good, Lucy, Y've done me good. Yes, I
mean to heed what y've said. I know it's right. Stick to it, girlie,
stick to it." And not a few said they had sold their last drink or had
drunk their last drop.