The evangelist from talking of the town began talking instead of heaven
and hell and his earnestness caught the attention of the listening boy who
began seeing pictures.
Into his mind there came a picture of a burning pit of fire in which great
flames leaped about the heads of the people who writhed in the pit. "Art
Sherman would be there," thought Sam, materialising the picture he saw;
"nothing can save him; he keeps a saloon."
Filled with pity for the man he saw in the picture of the burning pit, his
mind centered on the person of Art Sherman. He liked Art Sherman. More
than once he had felt the touch of human kindness in the man. The roaring,
blustering saloonkeeper had helped the boy sell and collect for
newspapers. "Pay the kid or get out of the place," the red-faced man
roared at drunken men leaning on the bar.
And then, looking into the burning pit, Sam thought of Mike McCarthy, for
whom he had at that moment a kind of passion akin to a young girl's blind
devotion to her lover. With a shudder he realised that Mike also would go
into the pit, for he had heard Mike laughing at churches and declaring
there was no God.
The evangelist ran upon the platform and called to the people demanding
that they stand upon their feet.
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