"It doesn't come in just now"; and inwardly she hoped she might be able to keep it out altogether. Play for time and hope for luck was her plan. But she was secretly worried by the superstitious importance which he attached to the three texts, picked at random from the Scripture that day in Cedar Mountain, and by the interpretation he gave them. But she thought it best to avoid the subject. First she sorted the invitations, adjusted a desirable programme, and then sent a courteous reply to each, accepting or declining. And it was done in such a way that none were hurt and most were pleased. Then happened two of the accidents she had prayed for. As Jim strode home about noon one day, he heard a rabble of small boys jeering and shouting, "Holy Billy! Holy Billy! Salvation! Salvation!" He turned to see them pursued by a fat, middle-aged man, who after several attempts to drive them away, at length seized a pitch fork from those exhibited outside a hardware store and, intent on revenging himself, ran after the children. The youngsters fled, save one, who fell; and the furious fat man made a vicious prod with the fork. It might easily have proved fatal, but Jim was near enough to seize the man's arm and wrest the fork from him. The fat man was white with rage. He blustered a good deal and finally went off sputtering comically although he used no cuss-words. That evening Jim and Belle went to the Salvation Army barracks, with the fixed intention of taking part in the worship as fully as might be permitted. On their arrival Jim was utterly surprised to find that the uniformed Captain in command was the fat little fury of the street episode; and still more astonished when that rotund person peremptorily ordered him out of the building. As the rest of the Salvationists dutifully supported their Captain, Jim had no choice, and with a feeling of sadness that was not shared by Belle, he turned out into the street. There are many drives about Deadwood, but not many good roads. The scenery, not the pavement, is the allurement; and in the morning, the young couple took a short drive to learn the trails. They had not gone a mile when they were brought to a standstill by a lumber wagon stuck in the middle of the narrow road and quite immovable. It was not the weight of the load or the fault of the road, but because one of the horses was on strike--he baulked and refused absolutely to pull. Held up by the blockade, on the other side, were two buggies with men and women. The teamster was just a plain, every-day bungler. He began by urging the obstinate horse with voice and whip; but at each fresh application the creature merely laid back his ears, shook his head, and set his feet more resolutely against all progress. At last the driver worked himself into a rage. He lashed the horse with all his strength, the only effect being to leave long lines on the animal's coat and cause him to kick out frantically with his hind feet.