"Why, Mr. Wynkoop! how could they be? Your work is heroic. I cannot

conceive how any minister of the Cross, having within him any of the

old apostolic fervor, can consent to spend his days amid the dreary

commonplaces of those old, dead Eastern churches. You, nobly battling

on the frontier, are the true modern Crusaders, the Knights of the

Grail. Here you are ever in the very forefront of the battle against

sin, associated with the Argonauts, impressing your faith upon the

bold, virile spirits of the age. It is perfectly grand! Why the very

men I meet seem to yield me a broader conception of life and duty; they

are so brave, so modest, so active. Is--is Mr. Moffat a member of your

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church?"

The minister cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening. "Mr. Moffat?

Ah, no; not exactly. Do you mean the mine-owner, Jack Moffat?"

"Yes, I think so; he told me he owned a mine--the Golden Rule the name

was; the very choice in words would seem, to indicate his religious

nature. He 's such a pleasant, intelligent man. There is a look in

his eyes as though he sorrowed over something. I was in hopes you knew

what it was, and I am very sure he would welcome your ministrations.

You have the only church in Glencaid, I understand, and I wonder

greatly he has never joined you. But perhaps he may be prejudiced

against your denomination. There is so much narrowness in religion.

Now, I am an Episcopalian myself, but I do not mean to permit that to

interfere in any way with my church work out here. I wonder if Mr.

Moffat can be an Episcopalian. If he is, I am just going to show him

that it is clearly his duty to assist in any Christian service. Is n't

that the true, liberal, Western spirit, Mr. Wynkoop?"

"It most assuredly should be," said the young pastor.

"I left every prejudice east of the Missouri," she declared,

laughingly, "every one, social and religious. I 'm going to be a true

Westerner, from the top of my head to the toe of my shoe. Is Mr.

McNeil in your church?"

The minister hesitated. "I really do not recall the name," he

confessed at last, reluctantly. "I scarcely think I can have ever met

the gentleman."

"Oh, you ought to; he is so intensely original, and his face is full of

character. He reminds me of some old paladin of the Middle Ages. You

would be interested in him at once. He is the foreman of the 'Bar V'

ranch, somewhere near here."