the head," and knocked him off the bench,
and left him there!

"But what did he SAY?" queried the crowd.

"Nuthin'. Afore I could get up, he got away."

"Are you sure it was him?" they asked. "You know you SAY you was
asleep."

"Am I sure?" repeated Jack scornfully. "Don't I know thet face and
beard? Didn't I feel it hangin' over me?"

"What are you going to do about it?" continued the crowd eagerly.

"Wait till he comes out--and you'll see," said Jack, with dignity.

This was enough for the crowd; they gathered excitedly at the door,
where Jack was already standing, looking towards the church. The moments
dragged slowly; it might be a long meeting. Suddenly the church door
opened and a figure appeared, looking up and down the street. Jack
colored--he recognized Polly--and stepped out into the road. The crowd
delicately, but somewhat disappointedly, drew back in the saloon. They
did not care to interfere in THAT sort of thing.

Polly saw him, and came hurriedly towards him. She was holding something
in her hand.

"I picked this up on the church floor," she said shyly, "so I reckoned
you HAD be'n there,--though the parson said you hadn't,--and I just
excused myself and ran out to give it ye. It's yourn, ain't it?"
She held up a gold specimen pin, which he had put on in honor of the
occasion. "I had a harder time, though, to git this yer,--it's yourn
too,--for Billy was laying down in the yard, back o' the church, and
just comf'bly swallerin' it."

"Who?" said Jack quickly.

"Billy,--my goat."

Jack drew a long breath, and glanced back at the saloon. "Ye ain't goin'
back to class now, are ye?" he said hurriedly. "Ef you ain't, I'll--I'll
see ye home."

"I don't mind," said Polly demurely, "if it ain't takin' ye outer y'ur
way."

Jack offered his arm, and hurrying past the saloon, the happy pair were
soon on the road to Skinners Pass.

Jack did not, I regret to say, confess his blunder, but left the
Reverend Mr. Withholder to remain under suspicion of having committed an
unprovoked assault and battery. It was characteristic of Rocky Canyon,
however, that this suspicion, far from injuring his clerical reputation,
incited a respect that had been hitherto denied him. A man who could
hit out straight from the shoulder had, in the language of the critics,
"suthin' in him." Oddly enough, the crowd that had at first sympathized
with Jack now began to admit provocations. His subsequent silence, a
disposition