Among the others we came across the preacher we had seen holding forth on the wharf. He was engaged, with the assistance of two men of the Methodist persuasion, in building a church. The three had themselves cut and hewed the timbers. Mr. Taylor, for that was his name, explained to me that, having no money, that seemed the the only way to get a church. He showed us his own place, a little shack not unlike the others, but enclosed, and planted with red geraniums, nasturtiums and other bright things. "As far as I know," he told us with pride, "that is the first garden in San Francisco." In the backyard he had enclosed three chickens--two hens and a cock. "I paid eighteen dollars for them," said he. We looked at each other in startled astonishment. The sum appeared a trifle extravagant considering the just-acknowledged impecuniosity of the church. He caught the glance. "Boys," he said quaintly, "San Francisco is a very lonesome place for the godly. The hosts of sin are very strong, and the faithful are very few. Mortal flesh is weak; and mortal spirit is prone to black discouragement. When I bought those chickens I bought eighteen dollars' worth of hope. Somehow Sunday morning seems more like the Sabbath with them clicking around sleepy and lazy and full of sun." We liked him so much that we turned to at odd times and helped him with his carpenter work. While thus engaged he confided to us his intention to preach against the gambling the next Sunday in the Plaza. We stopped hammering to consider this. "I shouldn't, if I were you," said I. "The gamblers own the Plaza; they are respected by the bulk of the community; and they won't stand any nonsense. They none of them think anything of shooting a man in their places. I don't think they will stand for it. I am afraid you will be roughly handled." "More likely shot," put in Johnny bluntly. "Well, well, boys, we'll see," said Taylor easily. Nor could we move him, in spite of the fact that, as we came to see his intention was real, we urged very earnestly against it. "Well, if you will, you will," Johnny conceded at last, with a sigh. "We'll see what we can do to get you a fair show." "Now that is just what I don't want you to do," begged the old man earnestly. "I want no vain contention and strife. If the Lord desires that I preach to these sinners, He will protect me." In the end he extorted from us a reluctant promise not to mingle in the affair. "He's just _looking_ for trouble," muttered Johnny, "and there's no doubt he'll find it. The gamblers aren't going to stand for a man's cussing 'em outright on their own doorsteps--and I don't know as I blame them. Gambling isn't such a terrible, black, unforgivable sin as I see it." "That's because you're ahead of the game, Johnny," drawled Yank. "Just the same the old fool is wrong," persisted Johnny, "and he's as obstinate as a mule, and he makes me mad clean through. Nevertheless he's a good old sort, and I'd hate to see him hurt."