said, in the course of his address;
"I've got you in the right rut if you will but stick in it." Here he
looked very hard out of the window for some seconds. "You've learned
soberness and industry, and with those things you can always make up any
loss you may sustain. I guess there isn't one of ye that won't remember
my visit to this camp." He paused for a moment, and three revolver shots
rang out upon the quiet summer air. "Keep your seats, damn ye!" roared
our preacher, as his audience rose in excitement. "If a man of ye moves
down he goes! The door's locked on the outside, so ye can't get out
anyhow. Your seats, ye canting, chuckle-headed fools! Down with ye, ye
dogs, or I'll fire among ye!"

Astonishment and fear brought us back into our seats, and we sat staring
blankly at our pastor and each other. Elias B. Hopkins, whose whole face
and even figure appeared to have undergone an extraordinary alteration,
looked fiercely down on us from his commanding position, with a
contemptuous smile on his stern face.

"I have your lives in my hands," he remarked; and we noticed as he spoke
that he held a heavy revolver in his hand, and that the butt of another
one protruded from his sash. "I am armed and you are not. If one of you
moves or speaks he is a dead man. If not, I shall not harm you. You must
wait here for an hour. Why, you FOOLS" (this with a hiss of contempt
which rang in our ears for many a long day), "do you know who it is that
has stuck you up? Do you know who it is that has been playing it upon
you for months as a parson and a saint? Conky Jim, the bushranger, ye
apes. And Phillips and Maule were my two right-hand men. They're off
into the hills with your gold----Ha! would ye?" This to some restive
member of the audience, who quieted down instantly before the fierce eye
and the ready weapon of the bushranger. "In an hour they will be clear
of any pursuit, and I advise you to make the best of it, and not to
follow, or you may lose more than your money. My horse is tethered
outside this door behind me. When the time is up I shall pass through
it, lock it on the outside, and be off. Then you may break your way out
as best you can. I have no more to say to you, except that ye are the
most cursed set of asses that ever trod in boot-leather."

We had time to endorse mentally this outspoken opinion during the long
sixty minutes which followed; we were powerless before the resolute
desperado. It is true that if we mad