If all the church members of Raymond had voted against the saloon, it would today be outlawed instead of crowned king of the municipality.

For that had been the fact in Raymond for years.

The saloon ruled.

No one denied that.

What would Jesus do?
And this woman who had been brutally struck down by the very hand that had assisted so eagerly to work her earthly ruin what of her?
Was it anything more than the logical sequence of the whole horrible system of license, that for another year the very saloon that received her so often and compassed her degradation, from whose very spot the weapon had been hurled that struck her dead, would, by the law which the Christian people of Raymond voted to support, perhaps open its doors tomorrow and damn a hundred Loreens before the year had drawn to its bloody close?
All this, with a voice that rang and trembled and broke in sobs of anguish for the result, did Henry Maxwell pour out upon his people that Sunday morning.