and carried it to the light
The old man tore open the long official envelope, when he received it from Martin’s hand, and carried it to the light, where he adjusted precisely his bowed spectacles, and, in his slow, methodical way, proceeded to investigate the contents. As he caught sight of the word and its initials his hand involuntarily closed to crush the papers, and his gaunt form straightened. In his mild blue eye sprang fire. He turned to Martin, his voice vibrant with an emotion carefully suppressed through the nine long years of his faithful service.
"They’ve turned down Wright," said he, "and they’ve give us an appropriation. They’ve turned down old Wright! By God, we’ve got a man!"
He strode from the store, his head high. As he went up the street a canvas sign over the empty storehouse attracted his attention. He pulled his bleached moustache a moment; then removed his floppy old hat, and entered.
An old-fashioned exhorting evangelist was holding forth to three listless and inattentive sinners. A tired-looking woman sat at a miniature portable organ. At the close of the services California John wandered forward.
"I’m plumb busted," said he frankly, "and that’s the reason I couldn’t chip in. I couldn’t buy fleas for a dawg. I’m afraid you didn’t win much."
The preacher looked gloomily at a nickle and a ten-cent piece.
"Dependin’ on this sort of thing to get along?" asked California John.
"Yes," said the preacher. The woman looked out of the window.
California John said no more, but went out of the building and down the street to Austin’s saloon.
"Howdy, boys," he greeted the loungers and card players. "Saw off a minute. There’s goin’ to be a gospel meetin’ right here a half-hour from now. I’m goin’ to hold it and I’m goin’ out now to rustle a congregation. At the close we’ll take up a collection for the benefit of the church."
At the end of the period mentioned he placed himself behind the bar and faced a roomful of grinning men.
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