The Desired Woman

t John Webb met Mostyn as he st

ou might walk down with me to Dolph Wartrace's store,

ial going on?"

say he makes his rounds all through the mountains of Tennessee, Georgia, an' North Carolina. He won't take a cent o' pay, never passes the hat around, an' has been knowed to stop along the road an' work for poor farmers for a week on a stretch

e to hear him," the ba

rned towar

church?" he inquired, w

the only feller I know of in this country that d

tatively. "How did you manage to stay out

air show. You see, each denomination declared that it had the only real correct plan, an' I'll swear I liked one as well as t'other. When I'd make up my mind to tie to the Methodists, some Baptist or Presbyterian would ax me what I had agin his religion, an' in all the stew an' muddle they got me so balled up that I begun to be afeard I wasn't worth savin' nohow. About that time this same tramp preacher come along, an' I heard 'im talk. I listened close, but I couldn't make out whether he stood for sprinklin', pourin', or sousin

behind them, and in a cloud of dust a gleaming new car bore down toward them. To th

n cried, warningl

flashing sullenly. "I'm goin' to pick up a rock some o'

the honking car, with brakes on

t the wheel, in a jaunty cap and goggles, cried

n an' women break the'r necks to git out o' your way. If you had touched me with that thing I'd have stomped the life out o' you. I know you. You used to split rails an' hoe an' plow,

," the driver said, quite taken aback, his co

pstart like you the right to make a decent man jump out of your way, like a frost-bitten grasshopper, I'll

led out something inarticula

im, "but if thar is anything on earth that makes me rip

ory frame structure made of undressed planks whitewashed. It had a porch in front which was filled with barrels, chicken-coops, and h

ad only one arm. "Come up, come up, Mr. Mostyn," he called out, cheerily. "The preacher is headed this way. A fe

il-keg. Wartrace was called within, and the banker began to watch the crowd with interest. Back in the store

ng on his broad shoulders, easily striding down the incline. He had blue eyes and delicate, rather effeminate features. He wore a broad-brimmed felt hat, dark trousers, and a black frock

Brother Wartrace! You see, old chap, I do remember your name," he called out, as the storekeeper appeared in the

red. "I've got the same box you spoke on b

you, but I've had a pretty stiff walk down the mountai

e mountain told me last night that I was doing more harm than good, talking without pay on the public highway as I am doing. I'd like to please every living soul, including them, if I could. It makes them mad to see you all gather to hear a jumping-

he boards vigorously to test their strength. "I'm gaining flesh," he laughed. "

ntains. Then slowly and reverently he raised his hands and began to pray aloud. It was a conventional prayer, such as the average rural preacher used in opening a meeting; and when it was over he took a worn hymn-book from his coat pocket, and afte

drunkenness and through the grace of the Lord got out of it to give living testimony as to its evil. Now, I'm pretty sure, for the same reason, that a man who has been through the mire of hell on earth is competent to testify about that. I'm that sort of a

were talking within slouched out on the

guilty of other habits that I sometimes mention at my 'men-only' meetings. After awhile I slid into the hole that is at the foot of every ungodly slope on earth. I was facing ruin. I had only one chance to save myself, and that was to gamble big on wheat. To do it I actually stole some money out of a

kept swearing that I was innocent. I'd lie awake at night in my cell concocting lie after lie to bolster up my case and stir up sympathy. I wrote letters to my home p

after letter to him. I used every pretext I could think of. Once I told him that I hoped God would strike me dead in my tracks and damn me eternally if I

ce, and didn't look at all strong. I took to him because he used to pass his tobacco through to me-said he had quit using it. Well, what do you think? One night as I lay with my ear close to the partition I heard him praying. A

to repair a wall where an attempt was made by some fellows to get out. It was out in the sunlight, and I hadn't seen the sun many times for a year past. I don't know how it come up, but somehow he happened to remark that he was innocent of the charge against him. Circum

, how he did plead with me! His eyes would fill chock full and his voice would shake as he begged and begged me to pray to God for help. I remember I did try, but, having lied to the Governor and everybody else, somehow I couldn't do it right. Then what do you reckon? I heard him in his cell every night begging God to help N

as though some voice had spoken inside of me and told me not to write to the Governor about myself, but about Seventy-two, who really was innocent. So I started out, and with the tears pouring down my face and blotting the paper I told the Governor about the prayers of Seventy-two, and how good he was, and begged him to give him a pardon, as I knew positively that he was innocent. Then a queer thing took place. I couldn't begin to

ting clouds. I didn't feel the shackles on my ankle and arm, and the low singing of Seventy-two in his cell was as sweet as far-off celestial music. I remember he called out to me just before bed-

to me, he said, about Seventy-two. I don't know how it was, but I give you my word that somehow I didn't have a single thought beyond trying to get Seventy-two pardoned. Once the Governor broke in and said, 'But how about your own case?' And I told him

bout an hour, and then he came back to his cell, and I heard him praying and sobbing.

n to cry. 'It was all through you,' he said. 'The Governor wouldn't have believed it in any other way.' Then he told me not to feel bad, that-well"-Leach's voice clogged up here, and he wiped his twitching lips with

ometimes when the chaplain was sick or away he let me take his place on Sundays, and it was there that I learned to preach. I served my time out. A sharp blow met me on the day of my release. I was thinking of going back home to make a new start when a lett

ing I could do to make a living, for an ex-convict is never encouraged by the world at large. That's how I came to take

store. Going out at a door in the rear, he went into the adjoining wood and strode along in the cooling shade toward the mo

bankruptcy when, by an adroit lie, he had secured the backing of Mitchell and other money-lenders. Old Jefferson Henderson's ashen face and accusing eyes wer

s. What more admirable course could a penitent man pursue? He quickened his step. He was thrilled from head to foot. He had reached the turning-point, and what a turning-point it was! In fancy, he saw himself taking the pretty child-woman in his arms and pledging his brain and brawn to her forever. It was really a most noble thing to do, for it meant the uplifting, as far as lay in his power, of her family. It would ma

ood and spirit. How beautiful the world seemed! How gloriously the sun shone on

er was sin