_Fred Hanks_
The topic of conversation in Bucktown on Sunday evening was
the Gospel wagon service. Many little groups were seen here
and there talking about Floe, Bill, the singing or the fight.
Every one but Mrs. Kinney liked some part of the service, but
she was never known to be pleased with anything.
"The idea of Bill Cook sayin' the things he did! And if I'd
'a' been his wife I'd hide my face. My! I was ashamed fer him.
I'll bet he'll be drunk for weeks out and I jus' wish he would,"
she said.
When some one said they thought the singing was fine, Mrs. Kinney
said, "Hum, you call that singin'? That big feller that stood
on the end and singed bass looks like a catfish when he opened
his mouth. The fellow that plays the organ looks for all the
world like a girl, and if you call that singin', I wish you
could hear the singin' I heard at the Indian Medicine Show last
summer; that's what I call real singin'. And that Floe standin'
up there, singin' afore that big crowd and her mother hardly
cold in her coffin! The style is that she mus' not go in 'siety
fer a year, and if you call that singin' you don't know the
first principle of music er 'siety. To my way of thinkin', them
big horses should be a-workin' 'stead o' hawlin' a lot o' lazy
galoots around town fer pleasure. Why, that Morton wears as
good clothes as the undertaker. I'll bet he steals the money
out of the collection box at the Mission."
Mrs. Kinney never missed an opportunity to express her opinion
and the neighbors knew just what to expect from her. She was
the only person in the neighborhood who dared criticise Dave
Beach.
"He's a devil, and you'll all find it out when it's too late,"
she said.
At the Mission the house was packed and several who had been
at the Bucktown wagon service were in the audience. Gene Dibble
was there with a "shanty" over his eye, his lip was swelled
to twice its natural size and his right hand was tied up in
a red handkerchief. He certainly looked the worse for wear.
He dropped into a back seat and not a word sung or spoken escaped
him.
When Floe arose to sing, by request, the same song of the
afternoon, Gene straightened up, and before she was half through
the song he was standing on tiptoe. Floe saw him as he stood
there and recognized him as the man who had fought to defend
her that day.
At the close of the meeting, Morton gave an invitation and Gene
was the first one to raise his hand for prayer. He raised the
one with the red handkerchief about it and Floe went at once
to the rear of the room, to speak to him about his soul.
"I'm so sorry to have caused you all this trouble," she said.
"You would not be in this condition to-night were it not for
me."
"That's nothin'; I'd 'a' done it fer any girl that's tryin'
to trot square. It's that song that's botherin' me, not the
fight. Do you think I could ever be a Christian like you folks
talk about? I have a good mother, but I'll never meet her there
like you sing about in the song, the way I'm goin' now; what
will I do?"
When Floe and Gene walked up the aisle together, several people
from Bucktown saw them. Before Gene could reach Dave's barn
the news had preceded him. When Gene and Jimmie walked into
the barn, Dave leaped to his feet and, taking Gene's free hand
in his, said, "You're right in the step you've taken to-night
and I'm glad for you. I know that your life can be a useful
one and I don't want any one to put a straw in your way. No,
don't say a word about that; it's not for me, but I feel just
as much pleased to see you get into it as if it were for me.
I know it is right, but I've lost my chance."
At the conference in Morton's home the next morning, there was
a time of great rejoicing, also a time of great anxiety. Jimmie
was very happy over Gene's conversion.
"We'll git der whole bunch yet," he said to Morton. "Der was
five of 'em at the altar from Bucktown, last night, 'sides Gene.
Fred Hanks was er comin' ter der Mission, but he got pinched
at der railroad crossin' fer bein' drunk. Fagin give 'm four
big drinks and er bottle ter start on, den steered him fer der
meetin'. He got nabbed 'fore he got dere."
Fagin had hoped to have Fred cause a disturbance at the meeting.
He, Mike and Jewey were doing everything in their power to stop
the Mission work in Bucktown. The fight on Sunday was a part
of their plan; unfortunately for them, Dave Beach was there
to see fair play and it resulted in a victory for Gene. Morton
knew that the long fight that was to follow in Bucktown would
be hard and bitter, but he also knew that God could give the
victory.
"Is Fred in jail now, Jimmie?" he asked.
"Dat's what Dave tol' me dis mornin'."
After prayer, Jimmie with Morton started for the jail.
"Dis is Mr. Morton from the Mission, Fred; he wants ter see
yer." With great difficulty Fred arose from the old plank upon
which he was lying. He took hold of the bars with both hands,
but was so weak he could not stand on his feet.
"Just sit down, my boy; I want to talk to you," said Morton,
kindly.
Fred fell back exhausted upon the plank. In the city police
stations of this country, a plank built against the wall is
used for a bed.
"You see," continued Morton, "I've been all through this thing
and know just how you feel. Jimmie tells me you have been drinking
for several weeks without a let-up. Have you had a drink this
morning?"
"No, and I'm near dead fer one," said Fred.
"If I should take you out of here and help you to get on your
feet, would you like to make a try for a better life?" asked
Morton. "I was in a worse shape than you when I staggered into
a Mission and learned of Jesus' power to save drunken men. I
turned myself over into his keeping and I've not wanted a drink
for over seven years. I know you are weak, but God is strong
and He will fight for you. If you will promise me to do as I
tell you, I will pay your fine and take you out of here."
"I drew a ten spot or a three thirty-five," said Fred. "If you'll
pay it for me I'll pay you back as soon as I get to work and
I'll never take another drink as long as I live."
"Unless you let the Lord undertake for you," said Morton, "you'll
be drunk again inside of a week."
Morton prayed with him and then went to the clerk of the police
court and paid his fine.
After Fred had had a bath and shampoo Mr. and Mrs. Morton went
with him to his home. His wife and boy had not seen him for
ten days and they were actually suffering for the necessities
of life. It required much talk and coaxing before Mrs. Hanks
would agree to give him one more chance.
"You do not know him as I do," she said to Mrs. Morton. "A thousand
times he has promised me to stay away from saloons and not drink,
but he's broken every promise he ever made me. Our rent is two
months behind, and baby and me have gone to bed hungry more
than one night on account of his drunkenness. I'm tired of it
all, and if it wasn't for baby's sake I'd end my life. I wish
I was dead." She buried her head in her hands and wept bitterly.
"It'll never happen again; I'm done this time sure," and he
meant what he said.
Morton left money with Mrs. Hanks to buy things to eat. She
put Fred to bed and cared for him as tenderly as loving hands
could. A woman's love is wonderful. In a few days Fred went
to work at his old job, determined to be a sober man the rest
of his life.
That night he stood up in the Mission and said he was sober
and was going to remain sober. On his way home to dinner next
day, Fagin called to him from the saloon door.
"Hello, Fred, they tell me that you're going to be a Mission
stiff. Come in here a minute." Fred stepped inside.
"I never thought you would get yellow on the bunch," said Fagin.
"A man's a baby that will admit he can't take a social glass
and stop when he wants to. Let's all take one together. Give
us all something, Mike," said Fagin.
Fred did not have the courage to say No. He not only took a
drink with Fagin, but remained there until he was so drunk he
couldn't see. Never had he been worse, that night he was helped
into the Mission by Fagin's gang. They followed him in and waited
to see the fun, but Fred was too drunk to make a noise and soon
fell asleep.
At the close of the meeting, Mr. Morton shook him until he awoke.
"Come, Fred, I want you to go home with me to-night; I want
to help you and be your friend." The next morning Fred was so
ashamed of himself that he did not want to see the Mortons.
He dressed himself and tried to slip out of the house unnoticed.
Mrs. Morton intercepted him at the door.
"Never mind about the past, my boy," she said. "You let God
take care of you for to-day and you'll be all right. Your boss
said you could go to work and your wife wants you to come home.
We'll help you in every way we can, and if you'll only trust
God, everything will brighten up."
Fred was heartbroken.
"I don't deserve such treatment from you folks; I turned you
and lied to you like a thief," he said.
"But Jesus loves you and we love you and your family loves you
and you can go out in the strength of God and win the fight.
Keep away from saloons and pray for help," said Mrs. Morton.
Bill Cook was having a hard fight with the Fagin crowd. They
had tried every way to get him to drink but he had been able
to say No, in the name of the Lord. Then they attempted to get
him angry.
"Bill gets paid fer testifyin' in the Mission; he's just workin'
a new graft," Fagin said one day.
Bill was angry in a moment and wanted to fight, but before he
could say anything, Jimmie said to Fagin, "Yer bet yer life
he gits paid fer servin' Jesus. Look at dem clothes he's wearin'.
He never had 'em when yer was gittin' his dough. He's dressin'
jus' as swell as yer dressin'. When his woman gits rigged up
fer meetin' she makes yer old gal look like er wheelborrer in
er autermobile parade. Say, Fagin, yer worked up 'cause yer
thinks yer kin git Bill sore an' den he'll take one. Not him;
he's drinkin' other kind er booze, eh, Bill?"
Gene Dibble was tormented almost beyond human endurance. He
walked into Dave's barn one day white with rage. "If I've got
ter stand this kind of a deal ter be a Christian, I'll cut this
whole business out."
"What's the trouble?" asked Dave.
"There'll be trouble enough when I see Fagin," said Gene; "I
just came from his place, but I can't find him. The dirty thief
says that Floe is wrong and that I'm just playin' this here
religious dodge just to get Floe. Floe an' me have been singin'
together some and he says we're not trottin' square. I'll tell
yer, Dave, there'll be singin' over to his house and he won't
know anything about it if he don't stop mentioning Floe's name
in that old cheap booze dump. That name's too good ter even
be spoke in there."
Dave smiled and Gene was quick to see it.
"Now see here, Dave, you're wrong. I'm not stuck on Floe and
no dog like Fagin can kick her down while I live."
"You stay away from Fagin's," said Dave, "and don't let anything
that you hear bother you. I'll see him to-day and he'll stop
talking or I'll make him stop."
After Fagin learned that he was causing Gene and Bill so much
trouble he doubled his efforts to persecute them. "They're afraid
to pass by the place any more," he said. "If they're tryin'
to do good, why don't they come in and talk to us? I guess Gene
can't leave his girl long enough.
"Say, kid, come here," he called to Jimmie. "Why don't Morton
come down here and try to convert us? Does he think we're so
good we don't need it?"
"Der yer want him ter come?" asked Jimmie.
"Sure I want him, but he won't come; he's scart of the cars."
Thirty minutes later, Jimmie rushed into Fagin's. There were
ten or twenty men at the bar and Jimmie called out so every
one could hear, "Say, Fagin, Mr. Morton said he'd come ter-night
at eight er-clock an' hold a meetin' in yer saloon if you'll
promise ter sell no booze from eight ter nine. Will yer do it?"
"Be game, Fagin, be game!" cried several voices. "Don't let
him bluff you."
Fagin hesitated a moment.
"You're yellow, Fagin. I heard yer ask the kid why he didn't
come and now yer afraid he will come."
"Be game, old man; we'll all come to the meeting," said another.
After much good-natured talk of this kind, Fagin turned to Jimmie
and said, "Tell 'em to come, kid, and we'll give 'em the warmest
time they've had in months."