Many of the people whom Brother Van now served came from Eastern homes and were familiar with ideals of culture and refinement. They had cut loose from the East with its old associations and conventionalities, and had come to face a new life on the frontier so full of promise. Imagine a town of two thousand inhabitants composed of people from every state in the Union, and from every civilized country in the world, of every color, race, and creed, speaking fifteen or twenty languages, and clinging to varying religious beliefs, and you will then have an idea of a mining town such as Brother Van found as he traveled through his district. The West was still, however, the easy prey for evil, and at every crossroad and station could be seen the sign, “Saloon and Licensed Gambling.” The gamblers and saloon men were leading citizens, and they had to be reckoned with. Brother Van had been a prohibitionist always. He had seen the effect of alcohol in his boyhood days, especially in the oil regions. As he grew all too familiar with the dreadful fire-water which demoralized and beggared the Indians whom he sought to emancipate, a new hatred of the vile stuff took possession of him. The Rev. George Logan tells a story of Brother Van as district superintendent which illustrates the spirit of comradeship that he shares with all men, even the saloon men and gamblers. On one Sunday morning Mr. Logan asked for a good collection to make up the district superintendent’s salary, saying, “If I don’t get it this morning, I’ll come again tonight.” The collection was not big enough, and true to his word the second collection was asked for. One man put a stack of six silver dollars on the plate and so the amount received was sufficient to make up the sum required for the unpaid salary. Going down town next day Mr. Logan met the man of the silver dollars, who with a grin asked, “Did you raise Brother Van’s money last night?” “I did,” was the pastor’s reply. “Did you notice that stack of silver dollars on the plate?” “I did,” said Mr. Logan again. “Well, I’ll tell you a story if you’ll promise not to get angry about it.” “I promise,” said the preacher. “Two men at the service on Sunday morning remembered afterward that Brother Van’s salary was short, and they agreed to play for the money in the afternoon. If A. won, the money was to be Brother Van’s; if B. did, Brother Van lost. Word went around and the saloon filled with sports to watch the game. If A. won, the crowd yelled, ‘The Lord gets that!’ and if B. was lucky, ‘That goes to the devil!’” A. had won, and the unsuspecting District Superintendent’s salary was paid by the successful gambler. Mr. Logan looked the narrator in the eye, and said, “I’m so glad I got that money; it has been in the hands of the devil long enough. Brother Van will put it to a better use.”