He had just clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good-by, good-by, Charley, my boy, and keep in the right path; not up, or down, or round the gulch, you know--ha, ha!--but straight across lots to the shining gate." He had raised his voice under the stimulus of a few admiring spectators, and backed his convert playfully against the wall.
"You see! we're goin' in to win, you bet.

Good-by! I'd ask you to step in and have a chat, but I've got my work to do, and so have you.

The gospel mustn't keep us from that, must it, Charley?
Ha, ha!" The convert (who elsewhere was a profane expressman, and had become quite imbecile under Mr.Wynn's active heartiness and brotherly horse-play before spectators) managed, however, to feebly stammer with a blush something about "Miss Nellie." "Ah, Nellie.

She, too, is at her tasks--trimming her lamp--you know, the parable of the wise virgins," continued Father Wynn hastily, fearing that the convert might take the illustration literally.