Black Rock | Page 9

and over the bridge, steadying down when he reached the hill.
'Steady, you idiot!'
This was to Dandy, who had taken a sudden side spring into the deep snow, almost upsetting us. A man stepped out from the shadow. It was old man Nelson. He came straight to the sleigh, and, ignoring my presence completely, said--
'Mr. Craig, are you dead sure of this? Will it work?'
'Do you mean,' said Craig, taking him up promptly, 'can Jesus Christ save you from your sins and make a man of you?'
The old man nodded, keeping his hungry eyes on the other's face.
'Well, here's His message to you: "The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost."'
'To me? To me?' said the old man eagerly.
'Listen; this, too, is His Word: "Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out." That's for you, for here you are, coming.'
'You don't know me, Mr. Craig. I left my baby fifteen years ago because--'
'Stop!' said the minister. 'Don't tell me, at least not to-night; perhaps never. Tell Him who knows it all now, and who never betrays a secret. Have it out with Him. Don't be afraid to trust Him.'
Nelson looked at him, with his face quivering, and said in a husky voice, 'If this is no good, it's hell for me.'
'If it is no good,' replied Craig, almost sternly, 'it's hell for all of us.'
The old man straightened himself up, looked up at the stars, then back at Mr. Craig, then at me, and, drawing a deep breath, said, 'I'll try Him.' As he was turning away the minister touched him on the arm, and said quietly, 'Keep an eye on Sandy to-morrow.'
Nelson nodded, and we went on; but before we took the next turn I looked back and saw what brought a lump into my throat. It was old man Nelson on his knees in the snow, with his hands spread upward to the stars, and I wondered if there was any One above the stars, and nearer than the stars, who could see. And then the trees hid him from my sight
CHAPTER II
THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS
Many strange Christmas Days have I seen, but that wild Black Rock Christmas stands out strangest of all. While I was revelling in my delicious second morning sleep, just awake enough to enjoy it, Mr. Craig came abruptly, announcing breakfast and adding, 'Hope you are in good shape, for we have our work before us this day.'
'Hello!' I replied, still half asleep, and anxious to hide from the minister that I was trying to gain a few more moments of snoozing delight, 'what's abroad?'.
'The devil,' he answered shortly, and with such emphasis that I sat bolt upright, looking anxiously about.
'Oh! no need for alarm. He's not after you particularly--at least not to-day,' said Craig, with a shadow of a smile. 'But he is going about in good style, I can tell you.'
By this time I was quite awake. 'Well, what particular style does His Majesty affect this morning?'
He pulled out a showbill. 'Peculiarly gaudy and effective, is it not?'
The items announced were sufficiently attractive. The 'Frisco Opera Company were to produce the 'screaming farce,' 'The Gay and Giddy Dude'; after which there was to be a 'Grand Ball,' during which the 'Kalifornia Female Kickers' were to do some fancy figures; the whole to be followed by a 'big supper' with 'two free drinks to every man and one to the lady,' and all for the insignificant sum of two dollars.
'Can't you go one better?' I said.
He looked inquiringly and a little disgustedly at me.
'What can you do against free drinks and a dance, not to speak of the "High Kickers"?' he groaned.
'No!' he continued; 'it's a clean beat for us today. The miners and lumbermen will have in their pockets ten thousand dollars, and every dollar burning a hole; and Slavin and his gang will get most of it. But,' he added, 'you must have breakfast. You'll find a tub in the kitchen; don't be afraid to splash. It is the best I have to offer you.'
The tub sounded inviting, and before many minutes had passed I was in a delightful glow, the effect of cold water and a rough towel, and that consciousness of virtue that comes to a man who has had courage to face his cold bath on a winter morning.
The breakfast was laid with fine taste. A diminutive pine-tree, in a pot hung round with wintergreen, stood in the centre of the table.
'Well, now, this looks good; porridge, beefsteak, potatoes, toast, and marmalade.'
'I hope you will enjoy it all.'
There was not much talk over our meal. Mr. Craig was evidently preoccupied, and as blue as his politeness would allow him. Slavin's victory weighed upon his spirits. Finally he burst