missionary's own words.

Scarcely had he ceased when Keith, throwing discretion to the wind,
leaped upon him, and with one blow sent him reeling back over a small
bench standing near. Regaining his feet as quickly as possible, with a
terrible oath, Pritchen rushed for his antagonist, only to go down
again before that clinched sledge-hammer fist. This time he did not
attempt to rise, but lay on the floor, giving vent to the most
blood-curdling oaths. Keith towered above him, awaiting his further
movement.

"Lie there, then, you serpent!" he cried, spurning him with his foot.
"It's your natural position, anyway."

An exclamation of surprise from Perdue caused him to glance quickly
around, and the sight which met his gaze was one never to be forgotten.
Over the chest stood the saloonkeeper, holding in his hand a
well-filled moose-skin poke, which he had just lifted from the bottom
of the box.

"Is that yours, Tim?" he asked.

"Yes," came the reply. "Don't you see my initials, 'T. F.' worked in
the poke? I did it myself, and could swear to it anywhere."

"And what's this?" exclaimed Mickie O'Toole, holding up another poke,
which was empty. "See, and here are letters, too, 'K. R.', so, Tim,
you're not the only one who's been pinched."

"Maybe the parson kin throw some light on the subject," and Perdue
turned towards the missionary with a malicious light in his eye.

But Keith did not answer. He stood as if rooted to the floor. What
did it all mean? Was he dreaming? He placed his hand to his forehead.
No, no, it was no dream, but a terrible reality. A base, cowardly
trick had been imposed upon him; he felt sure of that.

"God help me!" he inwardly groaned. "What am I to do?"

"No wonder the box was locked and the key gone," he heard some one say,
but it moved him not. His thoughts were elsewhere. What would she
think? What would his flock think? Their pastor a base thief! It was
terrible. Why had such a cross been laid upon him? What had he done
to deserve it all? He thought of another, of One, sinless and pure,
who had borne His cross alone; who had been mocked, laughed at, and
spit upon. He would not desert him now, anyway, in his time of trial.

The idea comforted him somewhat. A new feeling took possession of him,
a strength which he had seldom experienced before. He felt a Presence
very near, some unseen influence giving him a marvellous calmness and
courage. He looked at the men, an