HOW BILL HIT THE TRAIL
When "the crowd" was with us The Pilot read us all sorts of tales of adventures in all lands by heroes of all ages, but when we three sat together by our fire The Pilot would always read us tales of the heroes of sacred story, and these delighted Bill more than those of any of the ancient empires of the past.He had his favorites.Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Gideon, never failed to arouse his admiration.But Jacob was to him always "a mean cuss," and David he could not appreciate.Most of all he admired Moses and the Apostle Paul, whom he called "that little chap." But, when the reading was about the One Great Man that moved majestic amid the gospel stories, Bill made no comments; He was too high for approval.
By and by Bill began to tell these tales to the boys, and one night, when a quiet mood had fallen upon the company, Bill broke the silence.
"Say, Pilot, where was it that the little chap got mixed up into that riot?""Riot!" said The Pilot.
"Yes; you remember when he stood off the whole gang from the stairs?""Oh, yes, at Jerusalem!"
"Yes, that's the spot.Perhaps you would read that to the boys.
Good yarn! Little chap, you know, stood up and told 'em they were all sorts of blanked thieves and cut-throats, and stood 'em off.
Played it alone, too."
Most of the boys failed to recognize the story in its new dress.
There was much interest.
"Who was the duck? Who was the gang? What was the row about?""The Pilot here'll tell you.If you'd kind o' give 'em a lead before you begin, they'd catch on to the yarn better." This last to The Pilot, who was preparing to read.
"Well, it was at Jerusalem," began The Pilot, when Bill interrupted:
"If I might remark, perhaps it might help the boys on to the trail mebbe, if you'd tell 'em how the little chap struck his new gait."So he designated the Apostle's conversion.
Then The Pilot introduced the Apostle with some formality to the company, describing with such vivid touches his life and early training, his sudden wrench from all he held dear, under the stress of a new conviction, his magnificent enthusiasm and courage, his tenderness and patience, that I was surprised to find myself regarding him as a sort of hero, and the boys were all ready to back him against any odds.As The Pilot read the story of the Arrest at Jerusalem, stopping now and then to picture the scene, we saw it all and were in the thick of it.The raging crowd hustling and beating the life out of the brave little man, the sudden thrust of the disciplined Roman guard through the mass, the rescue, the pause on the stairway, the calm face of the little hero beckoning for a hearing, the quieting of the frantic, frothing mob, the fearless speech--all passed before us.The boys were thrilled.
"Good stuff, eh?"
"Ain't he a daisy?"
"Daisy! He's a whole sunflower patch!"
"Yes," drawled Bill, highly appreciating their marks of approval.
"That's what I call a partickler fine character of a man.There ain't no manner of insecks on to him.""You bet!" said Hi.
"I say," broke in one of the boys, who was just emerging from the tenderfoot stage, "o' course that's in the Bible, ain't it?"The Pilot assented.
"Well, how do you know it's true?"
The Pilot was proceeding to elaborate his argument when Bill cut in somewhat more abruptly than was his wont.
"Look here, young feller!" Bill's voice was in the tone of command.The man looked as he was bid."How do you know anything's true? How do you know The Pilot here's true when he speaks? Can't you tell by the feel? You know by the sound of his voice, don't you?" Bill paused and the young fellow agreed readily.
"Well how do you know a blanked son of a she jackass when you see him?" Again Bill paused.There was no reply.
"Well," said Bill, resuming his deliberate drawl."I'll give you the information without extra charge.It's by the sound he makes when he opens his blanked jaw.""But," went on the young skeptic, nettled at the laugh that went round, "that don't prove anything.You know," turning to The Pilot, "that there are heaps of people who don't believe the Bible."The Pilot nodded.
"Some of the smartest, best-educated men are agnostics," proceeded the young man, warming to his theme, and failing to notice the stiffening of Bill's lank figure."I don't know but what I am one myself.""That so?" said Bill, with sudden interest.
"I guess so," was the modest reply.
"Got it bad?" went on Bill, with a note of anxiety in his tone.
But the young man turned to The Pilot and tried to open a fresh argument.
"Whatever he's got," said Bill to the others, in a mild voice, "it's spoilin' his manners.""Yes," went on Bill, meditatively, after the slight laugh had died, "it's ruinin' to the judgment.He don't seem to know when he interferes with the game.Pity, too."Still the argument went on.
"Seems as if he ought to take somethin'," said Bill, in a voice suspiciously mild."What would you suggest?""A walk, mebbe!" said Hi, in delighted expectation.
