THE FIGHTING SHEPHERDESS
" Certainly, Clarence. Is there anything in par- ticular?"
" If it ain't too much trouble, I'd like, ' Oh, Think of the Home Over There.' "
" I'm delighted that your mind sometimes turns in that direction. I've sometimes feared, Clarence, that you were not religious."
Mr. Teeters looked pained at the suggestion.
" I don't talk about religion much," he replied earnestly, " but there's somethin' come up the last few days that set me thinkin' pretty serious."
Mrs. Taylor looked her curiosity.
" It's a turrible thing," Teeters wagged his head solemnly, " to see a feller layin' on his death-bed denyin' they's a Hereafter."
" Why, how dreadful I Who is it? "
" A sheepherder. He says they ain't no hell -. — nor nothin'."
" The po-oo-or soul I Is there any way I could talk to him?"
" I was hopin' you'd say that, but I didn't like to ask you, seein' as he's a sheepherder."
" They're human beings, Clarence," reproved Mrs. Taylor.
" I've heerd that questioned," declared Teeters, " but anyhow, a person with a heart in him no bigger than a bullet would have to be sorry to see this feller goin' to his everlasting punishment without repentin'. He's done murder."
" Murder! "
" I'll tell you about it to-morrow on the way over,"
" Where is he?"
"At Kate Prentice's — at headquarters."
Mrs. Taylor stiffened.
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