The red began to come up in Bill's white face.
"'Taint in my line. But The Pilot says there's got to be a prayer, and I'm going to stay with the game." Then, leaning on the pulpit, he said:
"Let's pray," and began:
"God Almighty, I ain't no good at this, and perhaps you'll understand if I don't put things right." Then a pause followed, during which I heard some of the women beginning to sob.
"What I want to say," Bill went on, "is, we're mighty glad about this church, which we know it's you and The Pilot that's worked it. And we're all glad to chip in."
Then again he paused, and, looking up, I saw his hard, gray face working and two tears stealing down his cheeks. Then he started again:
"But about The Pilot—I don't want to persoom—but if you don't mind, we'd like to have him stay—in fact, don't see how we kin do without him—look at all the boys here; he's just getting his work in and is bringin' 'em right along, and, God Almighty, if you take him away it might be a good thing for himself, but for us—oh, God," the voice quivered and was silent. "Amen."
Then someone, I think it must have been the
