The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-06-05
From the Kansas City Star.


 THE REV w. B. WHEELER, who
 died at Breckinridge, Mo, recently,
 \ filled his first conference appoint ment in New Mexico in 1SS3-4. He was stationed at Los Cerrilos, which at that period was a rather bzreezy town. MT. Wheeler used to say that the conference sent him there because he was large and looked like a fighting man, and they wanted to find out whether he was really in earnest about his call to preach.
 Los Cerrilos was then a town of about 800 strenuous citizens, most of whom didn't know what a preacher looked like until I landed among them, MT. Wheel CT said. AS l looked quite at home in a souch hat, flannel shirt and tall boots it gave me a more cordial welcome among those who were destined to become mem bers of my congregation.
 There were two saloons, which ran "A hours day, including Sunday, and they were exceedingly prosperous. I char tered a schoolhouse for services and be- gan to get acquainted. Among the first friends were the proprietors of the two 9ctlOOilo- W l4Cu 4VSlllS SOOu AiiC SOWDOJ z would ride in on payday and shoot up the town. On one of these occasions was passing down Main street and re- ceived a bullet hole through my hat. took it off, examined it, and went on. A justice suggested that might swear out warrant, but I told him it was an old hat and I didn't care about going to law over trifles.
 Somehow the bad men began to evince sort of desultory interest in the services. They would always bring their guns along, but would never shoot 'em off during meeting. I never sue ceeded in getting over four church mem bers, but the congregations were fair.
 T remember one day during my services there was a little commotion in the back end. tall fellow named Stewart, who had a splendid record as dead shot, arose and said:
 =" Just stop minute, parson, if you please
 Then he and another man led a fellow out. Presently they returned.
 All right, brother announced Stew art; Toms just drunk a little. but he won't bother you any more'
 'They had taken him across to the tavern and locked him up in his room.
 One of the most desperate men in the camp came to me one day and said he wanted to be steward.
 Steward I exclaimed What would a steward do?'
 Why he said, sit in the amen cor ner an take up the collection. Give me the job, parson, an you'll find healthy ante in the plate every Sunday
 50 I made him steward. He was as proud of his job as he would have been over brand new Winchester The col lections were made in his piratical look ing sombrero and he always got results. could hear his hoarse whisper as he went among the crowd:
 Damn you! Shell out! Don't be a tightwad! Give the parson lift!'
 Sometimes a man would throw in a dime or a quarter, and if my steward didn't think he had put up as the Lord had prospered him, he'd reach significant ly toward his hip pocket and whisper something that resulted in a material ad- dition to the church's revenue. Collec- tions by the stewards persuasive system were always good-much better than I've ever had since I returned to Missouri and he uncontestedly demonstrated his fitness for the office.
 One day the presiding elder notified me he was coming to Los Cerrilos! ] knew he had never been up against the sort of moral atmosphere that blew over our valley, and I hustled around to get things in shape for a serious minded shepherd who might not appreciate the broad spirit of our citizens I went first to Bill and Ike, who ran the two saloons and poker rooms, and said: