to the full tide of his
discourse. His arm swung flail-like. His eyes rolled in awe-provoking
frenzy. His voice leaped and fell after the fashion of a troubled wind
and through his pauses there came back to him the occasional low wail
of some almost convinced sinner. Gradually, under this invocation of
passionate phrase and "holy-tone," the tide of crowd-psychology was
mounting to hysteria.

Between sentences and phrases the preacher interlarded his sermon with
grunts of emotion-laden "Oh's" and "Ah's."

"Fer them thet denies ther faith, oh brethren--Oh! Ah! ther pits of
hell air yawnin' wide an' red! Almighty God air jest a-bidin' His time
afore He kicks 'em inter ther ragin', fiery furnace an' ther caldrons
of molten brimstone, Oh! Ah!"

The speaker rolled his eyes skyward until only their whites remained
visible. With his upflung fingers clawing talon-wise at the air he
froze abruptly out of crescendo into grotesque and motionless silence.

Through the close-ranked listeners ran a shuddering quaver, followed by
a sighing sound like rising wind which in turn broke into a shrieking
chorus of "Amens!" and "Hallelujahs!"

The simple throng was an instrument upon which he played. Their naive
credulity was his keyboard. Joel Fulkerson's eyes were mirrors of
silent pain as he looked on and listened. "Lord God," he said in his
heart, "I have toiled a lifetime in Thy service and men have hardened
their hearts. Yet to these who harangue them in the market-place, they
give ear--ay, and shed abundant tears."

Then the long-coated, long-haired preacher having exhausted the
dramatic value of the pause, launched himself afresh.

"Ther Lord hes said thet ef a man hes faith, even so sizeable es a
mustard seed, he shell say ter thet mounting, 'move' an' hit'll plumb
move! Oh-Ah!"

Once more the tone dwindled to a haunting whisper, then vaulted into
sudden thunder.

"Brethren, I _hev_ sich faith! Right now I could say ter thet thar
mounting thet's stood thar since ther commencement of time, 'Move,' an'
hit would roll away like a cloud afore ther wind! Right now afore ye
all, I could walk down ter thet river an' cross hits deep waters
dry-shod!"

Jerry Henderson, looking with amusement about the overwrought crowd,
saw no spirit of skepticism on any untutored face, only a
superstitiously deep earnestness everywhere.

Now even the hysterical "Amens!" which had been like responses to a
crazed litany were left unspoken. The h