The Washington herald., 1913-03-02

liant shouts of religious victory were
more frequent. One could now hardly
hear the choir as it insisted
I'VE reap what we SOW,
We reap what we SOW"
Suddenly the evangelist smote his
hands together, signal for song and
prayer 10 cease.
Having obtained a silence that was
breathlcss. he leaned over the edge OF
the platform, and addressed a man
who knelt upon the ground:
Brother Clinton, can't you get it"
The man shook his head
| You We been kneeling there night
after night" the evangelist continued ;
don't you feel that the Lord loves
you? Can't you feel it? Can't you feel
it now: Can't you get it? Can't gou
get it now: Brother Clinton, want you
to get through before these revival
services close They close this night.
| go away tomorrow. This may be
your last opportunity. I want you TO
get it now. All these waiting friends
want you to get it now. All these
praying neighbors want to see you get
| it. Can't you get through tonight /!
| Just quietly here, without any excite
| ment, without any noise or tunult, Just
| you and your soul alone together
Brother Clinton. can't you get through
| Tonight"
Brother Clinton shook his head.
Fran laughed aloud.
The evangelist had already turned
to Hamilton Gregory as signal for
the hymn TO be resumed, for some
times singing helped them through"
but the sound OF irreverent laughter
! chilled his blood. To his highly
| wrought emotional nature. that sound
of mirth came as the laughter of fiends
over the tragedy OF an immortal soul
Several times he Cried, with whit
ened face. these services have been
disturbed by the ungodly." He pointed
an inAexiblc finger at Fran: "Yondcr
sits little girl who should not have
been allowed in this tent unaccom-
/ panied by her parents. Brethren! Too
much is at stake, at moments like
these to shrink from heroic measures.
Souls arc here. waiting TO be saved.
Let that little girl be removed. Where
are the ushers? | hope she will go
without disturbance. but go she shall
Now, Brother Gregory. sing"
The corps of ushers had been sadly
! depleted by the young mems inclna-
ton to bivouac outside, where one
could sec without being obliged to
hear. As the song swept over the
worShipcrS in a wave of pleading. such
uShcrs as still remained, held a brief
consultation. The task assigned them
did not seem included in their proper
functions. Only one could be found
10 volunteer as policeman, and he only
because the cvangcli>t's determined eye
and rigid arm had never ceased TO in
dicatc the disturbr OF the peace
Fan was furious: her small white
face seemed Cit in stone as she stared
at the evangelist How could she have
tumultuous emotions. inspired BY the
sight of Hamilton Gregory, might well
have found expression in some other
way. That laugh had been as dart
ing OF tongue-iamc directed against
the armored Christian soldier whose
face was so spiritually beautiful,
whose voice was so eloquent
Fran was suddenly aware of a man
pausing irresolutely at the end of the
plank that held her erect. Without
turning her head. she asked in rather
spiteful voice, Are You the Sheriff :"
He spoke with conciliatory pcrsua-
sivcness: Won't you go with me, lit
tic girl?'
Fran turned impatiently to glare at
the usher.
flc was fine young fellow of per
haps nty-four, tall and straight,
clean and wholesome. His eyes were
sincere and earnest vet they promised
much in the way of sunny smilcs-at
the proper time and place. His mouth
was frank. his forehead open, his
shoulders broad.
Fran rose as swiftly as If a giant
hand had lifted her to her feet Come
on. then" she said in a tone somewhat
smothered. She climbed over the
'stringer' at the end of her plank.
and marched behind the young man as
if oblivious of devo1ring eyes. The
men at the tent entrance scurried out
of the way, scattering the shavings
and sawdust that lined the path.
As they passed the last pole that
supported a gasolene burner, Fran
glanced UP shyly from under her broad
hat. The light burned red upon the
young usher's face. and there was
something in the crimson glow, or in
the face, that made her feel like cry
ing. Just because-or so she fancied-
it revived the recollection of her lone
illness. And as she usually did what
she felt like doing, she cried, silently.
as she followed the young man out be-
meath the stars.