Mr. Lansing?"

"No," George answered meekly; "I can't say I am."

"Then you'll have to become one. How long is it since you indulged in
drink?"

George felt a little embarrassed, but Edgar, seeing Flora's smile and
the twinkle in her father's eyes, hastily came to his rescue.

"Nearly a month, to my knowledge. That is, if you don't object to
strong green tea, consumed in large quantities."

"One should practise moderation in everything. _Everything_!"

"It has struck me," said Edgar thoughtfully, "that moderation is now
and then desirable in temperance reform."

Mrs. Nelson fixed her eyes on him with a severe expression.

"Are you a scoffer?"

"No," said Edgar; "as a matter of fact, I'm open to conviction,
especially if you intend to reform the Butte. In my opinion, it needs
it."

"Well," responded the lady, "you're a signature, anyway; and we want as
many as we can get. But we'll proceed to business. Will you state our
views, Mr. Hardie?"

The man began quietly, and George was favorably impressed by him. He
had a pleasant, sun-burned face, and a well-knit but rather thin
figure, which suggested that he was accustomed to physical exertion.
As he could not afford a horse, he made long rounds on foot to visit
his scattered congregation, under scorching sun and in the stinging
frost.

"There are four churches in Sage Butte, but I sometimes fear that most
of the good they do is undone in the pool room and the saloons," he
said. "Of the latter, one cannot, perhaps, strongly object to the
Queen's."

"One should always object to a saloon," Mrs. Nelson corrected him.

Hardie smiled good-humoredly.

"After all, the other's the more pressing evil. There's no doubt about
the unfortunate influence of the Sachem."

"That's so," Grant agreed. "When I first came out from Ontario, there
wasn't a loafer in the town. When the boys were through with their
day's job, they had a quiet talk and smoke and went to bed; they came
here to work. Now the Sachem bar's full of slouchers every night, and
quite a few of them don't do anything worth speaking of in the daytime,
except make trouble for decent folks. If the boys try to put the screw
on a farmer at harvest or when he has extra wheat to haul, you'll find
they hatched the mischief at Beamish's saloon. But I've no use for
giving those fellows tracts with warning pictures."

"That," said Mrs. Nelson, "is by no means what we intend to do."

"I'm afraid that