The Call to Chicago
"Get up, you lazy giant; the breakfast is ready," she called from the
dining room. In truth, he had been up to light the fire and chop some
wood, but was now reading in bed.
"Jim, I want you to be prepared for something very important to-day. I
have a presentiment that this means something." She held up the card
that had been presented after the service the evening before, and read:
MR. JOHN HOPKINS,
ENGLEWOOD, CHICAGO
"If he comes with a proposition, don't accept it off-hand. Ask for a
little while to consider."
Belle put on her smartest frock that morning and pressed Jim's trousers
and tied his necktie repeatedly till its form was right. With a very
critical eye she studied his appearance and her own, and that of the
house, from every angle. Why? Would any business man make note of such
things? Detailed note, no; perhaps not. But the sum total of such
trifles--expressing decorum, experience, worldly wisdom of the kind that
makes itself felt as tact, and judgment that is better than genius as
guarantee of success--would unquestionably produce its effect.
Promptly at ten thirty A.M., Mr. John Hopkins called. He apologized for
the unseemly hour, but said he was leaving town at noon. His first
impression of Belle was a very delightful one. He found her refined and
cultured and he recalled the advice of a certain old bishop: "Never give
a call to a clergyman unless you are satisfied to call his wife as
well." There was no use denying it, the wife was as important as the
preacher; she could build up or disrupt the congregation, and so she
made a double problem; that is why Rome ruled the wives out altogether.
Mr. Hopkins was a citizen of the world; he approached the object of the
visit gracefully, but without loss of time. The Evangelical Alliance
needed a man of personality and power to carry on its work in the slums
of South Chicago among the iron-workers. The church cared nothing about
creeds or methods--applied no gauge but results; the best result was a
diffusion of human kindness. The salary was twenty-five hundred a year,
with one week vacation at Christmas and one month at midsummer. He, John
Hopkins, as President of the Board of Deacons, was empowered to select a
man, and now made formal offer of the post to the Rev. James Hartigan.
Mr. Hartigan might have a week to decide; but Mr. Hopkins would greatly
prefer it if Mr. Hartigan could decide before noon that day when Mr.
Hopkins was leaving town. Until stage time he could be found at the
Temperance House.
He rose quickly to go. Belle asked if he would, at his convenience, put
the offer in writing, so that they might be clear as to details,
indicating whether it was understood to be by the year and permanent, or
for a time on approbation.
"I'll do that now," he replied. Taking the writing materials that she
brought, he wrote and signed the formal call, with the intimation that
it was for one year, subject to renewal.
As soon as their caller was safely gone, Jim picked up Belle in his arms
and, marching up and down with her as if she had been a baby, he fairly
gasped: "You are a wonder! You are a wonder! If I had gone my way, where
should I be now? A drunkard or a cowboy; maybe in jail; or, at best, a
doorkeeper in the Salvation Army. Oh, Belle, I swear I'll never pick a
trail or open my mouth--never do a thing--without first consulting you."
And the elation of the moment exploded into a burst of Irish humour.
"_Now_, please ma'am, what am I to do?"
"What are _we_ to do, you mean," retorted Belle. "Well, in view of the
fact that we haven't got the cash the folks here think we have, we must
do something. Twenty-five hundred dollars a year is an improvement on
three hundred a year, and as there is no other positive offer in sight,
I vote for accepting."
"That settles it. What right has a worm like me to vote?"
"That's a poor metaphor, Jim; try again."
"All right! The mighty Captain of this warship accepts the advice of the
insignificant pilot--who happens to know the channel. How is that?"
"It can't be done, Jim. I may help the guiding, but without you I'd have
nothing to guide. Each of us gives his best to the combine--each is a
half of the arch; not simply are we twice as strong together, but twenty
times as strong as we should be singly."
"Now for the call. Do you realize, Jim, that it means good-bye to the
prairies, good-bye to the hills, and good-bye to Midnight?"
Jim nodded and looked grave. Belle went on: "But it also means living
the life that you long ago elected to live--being a chosen instrument of
good to bring blessings to those whose lives are black with sorrow and
despair. It means giving up all the physical pleasures you love so
deeply and rightly; but it also means following the Master. Which is it
to be?"
"I know," he responded, "I know. But Belle, dear, I never had a moment
of doubt when I had to decide between Belle and Blazing Star; why should
I hesitate now when it's Midnight or Christ?"
So the letter was written and delivered forthwith at the Temperance
Hotel. One week later Belle and Jim were driving again toward Cedar
Mountain, headed for the railway which was to take them to Chicago. As
they swung down the trail Belle looked out on the familiar objects and
said:
"Here we are again at the beginning of a new chapter; and again it
starts on the old Deadwood trail."