Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1910-09-09

unsteadily rom his seat on the bench
nearest the door.
"'Sh! he's fotched Tike Bryerson,"
few the whisper from lip to ear; but
the man with the trembling madness
in his eyes was backing toward the
door. Suddenly he stopped and rose
again with a backwoodsman's rifle IN
his hands, and his voice sheared the
breathless silence like the snarl of a
wild beast at bay.
mo. by jacks. ye won't witness
aginst me, Silas Crafts; YEN be
dead!"
The crack of the rifle went with the
words, and at the flash of the piece the
man sprang backward through the
doorway and was gone. Happily, he
had been too drunk or too tremulous 10
shoot straight The preacher was un-
hurt and he was quick to quell the
rising tumult and to turn the incident
| to good account.
There went the arrow of conviction
| quivering to the heart of murderer"
he cried, dominating the commotion
with his marvellous voice. Come back
here, Japheth Pettigrass; and you,
William Layne: God Almighty will deal
with that poor sinner in His own way.
For him, for every impenitent soul here
tonight, the hour has struck. Now is
the accepted time; now Is the day of
salvation. While we are singing, Just
as l am, without one plea let the
doors of divine mercy stand opened
wide, and let every hard heart be soft
ened. Come, ye disconsolate; como
forward to the mercy-seat as we sing"
The old, soul-moving, revival hymn
was lifted In a triumphant burst OF
sound, and Thomas Jefferson's heart
began to pound like a trip hammer.
Was this his call-his one last chance
to enter the ark of safety? Just there
was the pinch. A saying of Japheth
Fettigrass, overheard in Hdrsls' store
on the first day of the meetings, flick
ed into his mind and stuck there:
Hits scare, first, last, and all the time,
with Brother Silas. He knows mighty
well that good bunch o. hickories,
thatll bring the blood every cut, beats
sugar kittle out O. sight when 1t
comes to film the anxious seat" Was
1t really his call? Or was he only
| scared?
The 12-year- old brain grappled
hardly with the problem which has
thrown many an older wrestler. This
he knew: that while he had been lis
tening with outward ears to the rest
less champing and stamping Of the
horses among the pines, but with his
inmost soul to the burning words ef
his uncle, the preacher, a great fear
had laid hold Of him-a fear mightier
than desire or shame, or love or ha-
tired, or any spring of action known to
him. 1t was lifting him to his feet; 1t
was edging him past the others on the
bench and out into the aisle with the
mourners who were crowding the space
in front of the pulpit platform. At the
turn he heard his mothers low-mur-
INJURED Il thank Thee, o God!" and
saw the grim, set smile on his faith
ers face. Then he fell on his knees
on the rough-hewn floor, with the tall
countaineer called William Layne en-
his right, and on his left young girl
from the choir who was sobbing softly
in her handkerchief.
To his new young life after that t
seemed but a step to June, the queen
of the months in the valleys of Ten
nessee. The revival converts Of Little
Zoar had the pick and choice of all
the Sundays Of the year for the day
of their baptizing.
The font was of great natures own
providing, as was the mighty temple
housing it-a clear pool in the creek
with the green walled aisles in the
June forest leading down to It. and
the blue arch of the flawless June sky
for dome resplendent.
All Paradise was there to see and
hear and bear witness, as a matter of
course; and there were not wanting
farm wagon loads from the great val
ley and from the Pine Knob high
lands. Major Dabney was among the
onlookers, sitting his clean -limbed
Hambletonian, and twisting his huge
white moustaches until they stood out
like strange and fierce looking horns.
Also In the outer ranks of skepticism.
Major Dabney's foreman and horse
trader, Japheth Pettigrass. found a
place. On the opposite bank of the
stream were the few negroes owning
Major Dabney now as "Majah Boss"
as some of them-most of them, IN
fact-had once owned him as "Maws-
tuh Majah"; and minglng freely with
them were the laborers, white and
black, from the Gordon iron n-furnaca.
Thomas Jefferson brought up mem
ories from that solemn rite administer
ed so simply and yet so impressely
under the June sky, with the many
pointing forest spires to lift the soul to
heights ecstatic. One was the singing
or the choir, minimiZed and made ce-
| lestially sweet by the lack Of hound,no
walls and roof. Another was the sight
OF his fathers face, with the grim
smile gone, and the steadfast eyes
gravely tolerant as he-Thomas Jeffer-
son-was going down into the water.
A third-and this might easily become
the most lasting Of all-was the mem
ory of how his mother clasped him in
her arms as he came up out of the