Then he was silent. The look of merriment passed from his face. Mostyn
thought he had never seen a more impressive figure as the man stood, a
ray of sunlight on his brow, looking wistfully over the heads of his
little audience toward the rugged mountains. Then slowly and reverently
he raised his hands and began to pray aloud. It was a conventional
prayer, such as the average rural preacher used in opening a meeting;
and when it was over he took a worn hymn-book from his coat pocket, and
after reading a hymn he began to sing in a deep, sonorous voice. Some
of the women, with timid, piping notes and the men in bass tones joined
in. This over, Leach cleared his throat, stroked his lips with a
tapering, sun-browned hand, and began to talk.
"Somebody over the mountain yesterday wanted to know, brethren, how I
happened to take up this roving life, and I told them. They seemed
impressed by it, and I'm going to tell you. To begin with, the best
temperance talker is the man who has led a life of drunkenness and
through the grace of the Lord got out of it to give living testimony as
to its evil. Now, I'm pretty sure, for the same reason, that a man who
has been through the mire of hell on earth is competent to testify
about that. I'm that sort of a man. I was once up in the world, as you
might say. My folks had means. After I got out of school I went into
business on my own hook in my home town. You will be interested in
this, Brother Wartrace; so make them fellers come out of the store and
be quiet."
Order was restored. The mountaineers who were talking within slouched
out on the porch and stood respectfully listening.
"I went into the grain business," Leach continued. "I was young then,
and I thought I owned the market. My old daddy cautioned me to go slow,
but I paid no attention to him. Folks called me a hustler, and I was
proud of it. I got into fast ways. I played poker; I had a pair of fast
horses, and I was guilty of other habits that I sometimes mention at my
'men-only' meetings. After awhile I slid into the hole that is at the
foot of every ungodly slope on earth. I was facing ruin. I had only one
chance to save myself, and that was to gamble big on wheat. To do it I
actually stole some money out of a bank run by a friend of mine. It's
awful to think about, but I did it. I was found out. I was accused and
arrested. I was tried and found guilty. Lord, Lord, I shall never
forget that day! My mother and father were in the courtroom. She
fainted dead away, and an eternal blight fell on his white head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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