"
"I don't know," said Hamby. "I've been here an hour, and haven't
heard a sound. Maybe he's asleep."
I was uncertain what I should do, and I elaborately explained my
uncertainty. Of course, praying was an important and useful
occupation, and I knew that the prophet laid great stress upon it,
and all of us who loved him so dearly must respect his wishes.
"Yes, of course," said Hamby.
Yet at the same time, I continued, this woman was very ill, a case
of ptomaine poisoning--
"Do you think he can cure that?" asked Hamby guilelessly; and at
that moment Old Joe and Lynch came from the big room. Hamby started
to turn, but he was too late. Old Joe's arms went around him, and
Hamby's two elbows were clamped to his sides, in a grip which more
than one professional wrestler in our part of the world has found it
impossible to break. At the same time I stooped on my knees and
grasped the man's two wrists; because we were taking no chances of
his gun. Lynch, the ex-soldier, had a cloth, taken from the big
table, and he flung this over the head of the "pacifist" and stifled
his cries.
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