Knowing that my time to shuffle off this mortal coil may soon be at hand, I spent most of the day in church, doin’ an honest day’s work mendin’ broke thangs and whitewashin’. In the course of doin’ so, I met Reverend Cantrell. He’s a carpet-bagger from Connecticut, but better’n most. He says he’s not related to Quantrill and his band o’ bandits, but I think it’d be best just ta call ’im Padre around most folks anywhere near Kansas.

The Padre mentioned goin’ west ta save souls, and I told him about the auto-engine. At least this way we’ll have a man of God lookin’ out for us, and I’ll have somebody to discuss the good book with besides pa.