agnosticism in the little group that gathered around The Pilot for the nightly reading.
The interest in the reading kept growing night by night.
"Seems as if The Pilot was gittin' in his work," said Bill to me; and looking at the grave, eager faces, I agreed. He was getting in his work with Bill, too; though perhaps Bill did not know it. I remember one night, when the others had gone, The Pilot was reading to us the Parable of the Talents, Bill was particularly interested in the servant who failed in his duty.
"Ornery cuss, eh?" he remarked; "and gall, too, eh? Served him blamed well right, in my opinion!"
But when the practical bearing of the parable became clear to him, after long silence, he said, slowly:
"Well, that there seems to indicate that it's about time for me to get a rustle on." Then, after another silence, he said, hesitatingly, "This here church-buildin' business now, do you think that'll perhaps count, mebbe? I guess not, eh? 'Tain't much, o' course, anyway." Poor Bill, he was like a child, and The Pilot handled him with a mother's touch.
