about in this way. For some time I had
been playing a game of hide and seek with a certain backsliding member
of my congregation. The hiding was all on his side, the seeking on mine.
Try as I would I could not seem to obtain an interview with him. He was
never at home when I called; so I decided that my only chance of coming
to close quarters with the enemy was to surprise him at his work. That
afternoon I had gone to the quarries and found my man superintending
the gang in charge of the stone-crusher. He certainly was surprised and
not very pleased to see me, and all I could obtain from him after more
than an hour of argument and pleading was a promise that 'he would think
about it.' The 'it' referred to the making of his Easter duty, the time
for which had nearly expired. Bitterly disappointed, and with a feeling
of utter defeat, I was turning away when my steps were arrested by a not
unpleasant voice:

"'Why don't you try your hand on me, Father? I'm a black enough sheep to
keep you busy for a few moments anyway.'

"I wheeled around and found myself confronted by a short, thick-set man
of most unattractive appearance, a man whom you would scarce choose as a
companion along a lonely road at night. At a glance I sized up my new
acquaintance: a typical tramp who had taken a job at stoking the engine
to vary the monotony of the road. He was no professional 'hobo,' but
belonged to that class who take to tramping from necessity rather than
from choice--a too great love for the bottle being the necessity. They
find an odd job here and there, hold it until pay day, squander the
month's earnings in the nearest saloon, then on again in search of a job
somewhere else.

"I am well acquainted with these men, but there was something about the
rough looking specimen before me, a certain something in his manner, in
his speech, in the twinkle of his eyes, which set him apart from the
rest of his class. A grizzled beard of iron grey concealed the lower
half of his face, and the right temple and cheek were disfigured by a
scar which gave the countenance a decidedly sinister appearance. In
spite of that I felt that the man before me had at one time been
accustomed to a very different life from the one he was leading now.

"'Why don't you try your hand on me, Father?' he repeated, and the smile
accompanying the words made the ugly face almost pleasing.

"There was not time for a lengthy conversation, the engine requiring
constant at