The days of the Northwest Fur Company seem very remote when the new generation, with a small group from the older one, kneel to receive Holy Communion. The life of the trapper and trader, starved and godless, seems a haunting and an impossible dream. Yet the pastor has his problems. His church must be enlarged and modernized to meet the social demands of the little city. He must find means for providing recreation and wholesome entertainment in connection with the church, so that the people of the community may not have to depend for their amusement on the cheap “movie” theater with its sensuous appeals. He must travel far out on the wide prairie to care for the ranchers who are setting up homes in these lands that under new methods of cultivation are proving to be far more fruitful than it was once considered possible for them to be. The scout-missionary is still keen about first churches, and we accompany him on a visit to a little town near Fort Benton. We go to the schoolhouse. We are early; so we will play janitor. The bell is to be rung. The songbooks are to be distributed. Brother Van does not preach this time, but his influence is felt all through the service. He stands in the closing moments and urges upon the people a new loyalty to Jesus Christ and a new loyalty to the church as the center of their common life. All who will so pledge are asked to come and take him by the hand, and every man, woman, and child in the little group comes forward. Among them are three soldiers, guards in the uncertain days of war of the big bridge which swings over the Teton River at the outskirts of the town. One of Brother Van’s churches is in process of building in this town. You may smile at its dimensions. It has one main room and a basement which is to be cut up into smaller social rooms. “Well, Brother Van, when is it to be finished?” he is asked. “Don’t know, Sister!” “Why not finish it right away?” “I’d love to, but not one cent of debt is to be placed on this or on any other church I have anything to do with.” “But, can these few people build this church?” “They can and will, with the help of the Board of Home Missions.” “Ah, if people only knew the need of home missions, we would not have to see these churches which we try to put in the new centers struggle and languish as they do,” he adds. “Why try to have a church so soon, then?” “Ah, Sister, that is the point. We must claim these new towns for our Christ. The devil has his agents at work in the saloon and dance halls. Why should we give up to him?” In that distant time when Brother Van made his first visit to the Indian agency, he traveled in an army post wagon. As we seek the Blackfeet Indians, we travel with him on a railroad train. His vivid stories of the towns through which we pass make us realize how much the frontier owes to missionary influence. Brother Van gets off at every station to look around.