True to his determination, the doctor devoted the night following his advent into the little frontier village to the investigation of the Quaker preacher’s fitness for his use.  He took Pepeeta with him, the older habitues of the tavern standing on the porch and smiling ironically as they started.

The meeting house was one of those conventional weather-boarded buildings with which all travelers in the western states are familiar.  The rays of the tallow candles by which it was lighted were streaming feebly out into the night.  The doors were open, and through them were passing meek-faced, soft-voiced and plain-robed worshipers.

The silhouettes of the men’s broad hats and the women’s poke bonnets, seen dimly against the pale light of the windows as they passed, plainly revealed their sect.  The similarity of their garments almost obliterated the personal identity of the wearers.

The two strangers, so different in manners and dress, joined the straggling procession which crept slowly along the road and chatted to each other in undertones.

“What queer people,” said Pepeeta.

“Beat the Dutch, and you know who the D-d-dutch beat!”

“What sort of a building is that they are going into?”

“That’s a church.”

“What is a church for?”

“Ask the marines!  Never b-b-been in one more’n once or twice. 
G-g-g-guess they use ’em to p-p-pray in.  Never pray, so never go.”

“Why have you never taken me?”

“Why should I?”

“We go everywhere else, to theaters, to circuses, to races.”

“Some sense in going there.  Have f-f-fun!”

“Don’t they have any fun in churches?”

“Fun!  They think a man who laughs will go straight to the b-b-bow-wows!”

“What are they for, then, these churches?”

“For religion, I tell you.”

“What is religion?”

“Don’t you know?”

“No.”

“Your education has been n-n-neglected.”

“Tell me what it is!”

“D-d-d-don’t ask so many questions!  It is something for d-d-dead folks.”

“How dark the building looks.”

“Like a b-b-barn.”

“How solemn the people seem.”

“Like h-h-hoot owls.”

“It scares me.”

“Feel a little b-b-bit shaky myself; but it’s too late to b-b-back out now.  I’m going if they roast and eat me.  If this f-f-feller can talk as they say he can, I am going to get hold of him, d-d-d-dead or alive.  I’ll have him if it takes a habeas c-c-corpus.”

At this point of the conversation they arrived at the meeting-house.  Keeping close together, Pepeeta light and graceful, the doctor heavy and awkward, both of them thoroughly embarrassed, they ascended the steps as a bear and gazelle might have walked the gang-plank into the ark.  They entered unobserved save by a few of the younger people who were staring vacantly about the room, and took their seats on the