In the meantime, the church service had become established in Gila. Esther Bright preached with deepening spiritual power. The cowlasses now attended regularly. Other women, too, had come. Miners, dirt begrimed, had astonished their cronies by coming to hear the teacher talk. Even men from the charcoal pits and burro camps found their way to the crowded room. One Sunday, the atmosphere of the meeting was so remarkable it still stands out in the memory of many a Gilaite of those early days. Esther Bright had preached on the Healing of the Lepers. She had told them of the disease of leprosy, its loathsomeness, its hopelessness. Then she vividly pictured the ten lepers, the approach of Christ, and their marvelous restoration. She showed them sin, its power to degrade men and women, and to weaken the will. She urged the need of God's help, and the necessity for each one to put forth his will power. Her low, earnest, heart-searching voice seemed to move many in that audience. Again and again rough hands brushed away tears they were ashamed for others to see. Ah, could there be help for them! Could there! The speaker seemed filled with a power outside of herself, a power that was appealing to the consciences of men. Kenneth Hastings, caught in this great spiritual tide, was swept from his moorings, out, out, on and away from self, Godward. He rose and spoke with deep feeling. Then some one sang the first stanza of "Where are the Nine?" The singing ceased. The Spirit of God seemed brooding over all. The pregnant silence was followed by a succession of marvels. A Scotch miner rose and said: "I am a sinner. Jesus, Maister, hae mercy on _me_." Then voice after voice was heard confessing sin and praying for mercy. At the close of the service, there were many touching scenes as men and women long hardened and burdened, came to this young girl for words of hope and encouragement. If ever human being was an instrument in the hands of God, Esther Bright was that day. The attendance at the meetings increased so that the schoolhouse could no longer accommodate the people. It was still too cool to hold out-of-door meetings. In the midst of Esther's perplexity, she received a call from one of the saloon keepers. "I 'ave been attending the meetings," he said, "and see that you need a larger room. I 'ave come to offer you my saloon." "Your saloon, Mr. Keith?" she said, aghast. "Yes," he replied, "my saloon! I'm one of the lepers ye told about the other day. I 'ave decided to give up the saloon business." This was beyond Esther's wildest dreams. "You have decided to give up the saloon?" she said, overjoyed. "I am so glad! But how will you make your living?" "I'll go to minin' again, an' my wife'll keep boarders. She's glad to 'ave me give up the dram shop." Esther's eyes filled with happy tears.