The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-12-08
OF THE CHURCH MILITANT.

less attention to the words which the old
white-haired bishop was speaking from the
platform. 1t is conference Of Methodist
ministers, and for the las five days they have
been thus in session, and this the fifth and
last has brought with 1t the appointments
for the coming year. Slowly and in the
trembling voice of. age the white-haired
bishop read down the list
John Tracy-Berwick Center.
Philip Carboy-Mechanics
Thomas Ruggles-Boone-stre Church.
Amos Hart-North Burton.
Frederick Gordon-Three Forks.
And then a little breath of relief ran
through the house, and hard-featured man
back by the door leaned over toward his
neighbor and whispered softly, "You'll want
all your nerve now, Gordon" and as the
man addressed nodded silently in reply,
| dozen of the delegates sitting near turned to
| look at him who had received the appoint
| ment to be most dreaded of all. The survey
| was evidently a satisfactory one, for after a
single glance at the firm chin, thin lips and
| rather daring eyes, they turned away to re-
sumo their listening, expressing the general
verdict in the muttered words, He'll do"
Meanwhile Gordon sat there, evidently gaz-
ing straight ahead Of him, in evident strict
reviewing everything he could recall regard
| ing the disadvantages of Three Forks.
1t was twenty miles from any railroad and
at least half way up the barren sides of Bald
| mountain. 1t had already driven away two
ministers of his church in succession. 1t
| had the reputation of being the headquarters
of some very hard citizens, and was sur
| rounded by district principally inhabited
| by 'moonshiners," who were in an almost
constant warfare with the revenue officers,
| and as he ended this catalogue of its vices
| Rev. Frederick Gordon shut his white teeth
| closely together and vowed sternly to win
| his way there or not come back.
Then as the monotoDous tone of the read
| er's voice ceased he arose with the others
and followed quietly the stream of Humanity
| out into the summer sunlight. In the outer
| entry where the two streams from the lower
| floor and upper gallery came mingling to-
| gether, and, with choked current flowed be-
tween the wide DOORS he felt a hand fall
upon his arm as if to attract attention, and,
partly turning, he looked down surprised
into pair of upturned eyes, bright as stars,
half believing the touch upon his arm mis-
take The eyes dropped little before his
own and flush sprang instantly into the
girls clear cheek as she asked a little doubt
fully:
'Are you not Rev. Mr.. Gordon?'
Yes" he answered, ''such is my name,
Did you wish, then, to see men%
You go to Three Forks" she con tinued,
speaking low enough, so that the others
passing would not hear. CAT least that was
your appointment. l am Belle Cheswick,
the organst of the church there-and-and
l wouldn't go if l were you"
But the reverend gentleman had grasped
one of her hands and was shaking it warmly,
regardless of the curious chances of lockers
on.
IF you are from Three Forks" he ex-
claimed, calamity, sit cannot be as bad as
painted, and l shall most certainly go. Do
you really think there will be troubles" he
asked more calmly, as they walked slowly
down the street. keeping step with the
Others
Eyes, do" she answered soberly. 'There
must be, The last man the conference sent
there was sneak" and the girls eyes flashed
as she emphasized the word. HE gave in
formation to the revenue men that caused
considerable loss, and the men swear to pre-
vent the next one from having the chance
L don't blame Them" she added iercely.
'I M little of an outlaw myself
mo more do /, he answered calmly, look
ing with considerable admiration at the
girls kindling cheeks. "They would never
find me a sneak, l think, yet 1 must suffer
for the wrong-doings of others. Neverthe
less, feel that l must go. 1t has been made
my duty, and-well, really Miss Cheswick,
1 don't particularly object to the danger
Gus part of my work at all" and the rev.
erend gentleman smiled. His companion
did not look up but anyone seeing his firm
lips, COOL grey eyes, close-cut hair, and erect,
muscular figure, might have in reason ar
rived at the same conclusion.
Frederick Gordon was good minister and
one devoted to his calling but with it all he
remained considerable of man, and young
one, with some enthusiasm and more blood
than water in his veins In his education
the body had kept pace with the brain.
81 am sorry" she said to him, after quite
- frrhf
you not to go into trouble, but l see it is
useless
eyes, quite useless" he replied. 81 must
fight it out myself 1t must be a very pleas
ant kind OF congregation waiting for me-
quoting to the nerves, and all that" with a
Miss Cheswick, they must have a leader.
Pray tell me the name of this gallant cap
tain of banditti."
AS ne asked the question lightly, looking
down at his companion, the red blood rushed
to her face.
True they have a leader" she said, pas
sionately, land he is my father"
Sincerely, beg your pardon" he cried,
ish one; but go to Bald mountain on the
stage with you tomorrow" Then, more
calmly, LET us hope for the best l can
only go, whatever the ending is" and then
hat in hand, he stood silently watching her
move slowly down the sunny street, until
she disappeared in the crowd of people.
Rev. Frederick Gordon was on time at the
little stage office next morning, and possibly
the fact of pleasant companionship had much
to do with his promptness.
The inclemency of the weather had pre-
vented the sale of outside seats upon this
trip, and consequently those inside did not
lack for occupants. Miss Cheswick, in
neat travelling dress of gray, sat with her
back to the horses, and Gordon managed to
1oh 10 10 ficfa
beside her, and to be received with a smile of
welcome. Two women, one quite large, the
other quite small, and both exceedingly
dirty, occupied the rear seat. In the middle
rested a typical poor white" not uncom.
mon in that region, whose wobegone face