The Portland daily press., 1892-06-09

"the house of God" and this meant to
them not simply a place for worship,
but structure sanctifed by the divine
presence and under the divine care, and
as such as safe against fire as the hills
themselves.
"Why did God let the house burnt"
"Why did he permit his people, and
particularly so good man as Father
Peters, to be persecuted?" ''Why did
he not smite hip and thigh the profane
wretches who had done this thing"
These We're the questions that puzzled
the Union men who belonged to the
church, and failing to receive salts
factory answer the most soundly con-
verified felt that he was falling from
grace, and that if the Lord did not afford
miraculous help at once he must sever
the connection, for the time being at
least, and try to help himself after the
old mountain methods.
A habit supposed to be dead invariably
asserts itself with greater force after it
is resurrected. This was certainly the
case with Strong Dick Bradley, the black
smith. He had been noted for his pro-
family among people where even the
children lisp in oaths. He had been
famed as fighter in community where
the ability to fight is regarded as the
highest and noblest attribute of man
hood, and where the desperate who has
killed his man, or men, is envied as the
wild Indians envy the warrior who has
taken the most scaIps.
1t was generally believed that the
blacksmith's religion, while making him
a safer and SO more desirable neighbor,
had entirely unnamed him, and that
even SO arrant braggart as Het Ma
goone could safely treat him with con-
tempt and set him at defiance. But
Strong Dick Bradley's religion, or at
least that part of it that had curbed his
tongue and his arm, went up and van
ished in the smoke of the meeting house,
and for four terrible years both had full
swing.
While Bradley's religion had received
so severe a check, the effect of this at
tack was to turn his earnest mission
feelings into a blind fanaticism that was
to find delight in CONGREGATIONS and
soothing comfort in blood. Father Pc
ters, who had just been praying by the
blacksmith's side, and now stood hold
ing his arm while they watched the play
of the flames destroying the mission, for.
got his own danger and his own loss as
he noted the old, black scowl on the
face and the devilish light flashing up in
the deep gray, eyes of Strong Dick Brad
ley.
'sIf Jesus Christ won't perfect the
place we uns hez fixed up snug fo' him
that's his lookout. Hill be id long
time afoah he hez another SO good
show in these hills. But by the Great
Eternal! the men ez hez did this'll have
to pay the insurance in blood. Hold
thar, Het Magoone! God cuss yo' fo'
dog and a coward I've got somethin to
say afoah you uns ride OFF,
The last sentence was addressed to
Het Magoone, who was now about to
mount the horse on which he had come.
The people who had been praying and
the people who had been shouting about
the fire and Het Magoone himself were
startled by the blackslnith's voice and
manner. All saw that the Christian
blacksmith had gone and that the strong
and savage Dick Bradley of few years
before had come back. Magoone obeyed
the summons, for he knew, as did all his
supporters, that the first sign of DISC
bedience would have been the signal for
a bullet in his heart.
Het Magoone had forty men there
with him. All were armed with rifles
and pistols. The very fact that they
carried these weapons showed that they
were prepared for fight and expected
one. Physically, it is safe to say there
was not a downright coward in the lot
Well led, there was not man of them,
not even the brutal, staggering Het
Magoone, who could not have been held
in line against overwhelming numbers
till the last one fell in his tracks, and
who could not have been carried on in
an assault, though certain that not one
Bradley and at the sound of his voice
the strongest trembled and became for
the time more obedient than if not so
weak as a child.
Ignoring the fact, if indeed he was
aware of it. that Father Peters was
clinging to his arm, the blacksmith
strobe right through the crowd about the
church until he stood face to face with
Het Magoone. The clergyman's daugh-
ter, to whom am indebted for an &C.
count of what preceded this and what is
to follow, followed her father, fearing
for his safety. Although as true and
brave woman as ever lived, and quite
as self possessed rs if she had spent all
her life in the best society, Ella Peters
was paralyzed with alarm when she saw
the change that had come over the man
who hitherto had been more gentle than
a girl to her and hers.
"Het Magoone, yo' KEN har today to
raise hi! Don't lie, yo' dog, and say
yo' didn't! Wa'al, yo've riz hit, and
now, by the Great Eternal, I'll send yo
tharl"
The blacksmith raised his arm, and
giant though Magoone was, he lowered
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