"Church might be kind of
decent, after all. Jim, what you got to say 'bout the subject?"
Jim was still patting the timid little foundling on the back with a
comforting hand.
"Who'd be preacher?" said he.
They were stumped for a moment.
"Why--you," said Keno. "Didn't you find little Skeezucks?"
"Kerrect," said Bone. "Jim kin talk like a steam fire-engine squirtin'
languages."
"If only I had the application," said Jim, modestly, "I might git up
somethin' passable. Where could we have it?"
This was a stumper again. No building in the camp had ever been
consecrated to the uses of religious worship.
Bone came to the rescue without delay.
"You kin have my saloon, and not a cent of cost," said he.
"Bully fer Bone!" said several of the men.
"Y-e-s, but would it be just the tip-toppest, tippe-bob-royal of a
place?" inquired Field, a little cautiously.
"What's the matter with it?" said Bone. "When it's church it's church,
and I guess it would know the way to behave! If there's anything
better, trot it out."
"You can come to the shop if it suits any better," said the blacksmith.
"It 'ain't got no floor of gold, and there ain't nothing like wings,
exceptin' wheels, but the fire kin be kept all day to warm her up, and
there's plenty of room fer all which wants to come.
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