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THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/callateveningOOwardrich 
 
The 
 
 Call at Evening 
 
 By Jessie Ward 
 
 HERALD PUBLISHING HOUSE 
 LAMONI IOWA 
 
Copyright, 1920, by Herald Publishing House 
 
 Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ 
 
 of Latter Day Saints 
 

 DEDICATED 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF ONE WHOSE 
 
 EARNEST CRY: "IF I COULD 
 
 ONLY BELIEVE," 
 
 PROMPTED THE WRITING OF THIS 
 
 BOOK 
 
YJWOUMJ 
 
Foreword 
 
 More earnest than the quest for happiness, more intent 
 than the search for knowledge, and more far-reaching than 
 delving for gold, is man's eternal stretching forth toward 
 the goal of Eternal Truth. Bits of that- Truth drifting down- 
 ward in particles of flame have been grasped by man and 
 have become the golden ladder by which he climbed to its 
 radiant fullness. Yet it has always been that Seeming Truth 
 has drifted by its side, and the masses grasping it have rested 
 content until the thing has tarnished in their hands or crum- 
 bled with their weight, when they would use it, upward bound. 
 
 Yet, there are some who with keener vision have sensed 
 the difference they could not see and have refused to grasp 
 the Truth that Seemed, but waited, watching for the unfolding 
 of the Real. Some there are in whose breasts this hope has 
 died, and in despair they have lifted their faces and said, 
 "There is no Truth." Yet as they spoke the clouds of doubt 
 have scattered and the long-hoped-for has burst upon their 
 view, and the Sun of Eternal Knowledge of the Here and 
 Now and Yet to Come has burst upon them. Of such were 
 Bill Lakeman and Stanley and many others of whom they are 
 but a type. 
 
 There are others yet, whose lives are enshrouded with great, 
 black clouds of care, and who must of necessity forego the 
 search, but in whose hearts bums the unquestioning assurance 
 that just beyond their reach and beyond the clouds of despair 
 which envelop them, truth reigns supreme, could they but 
 drop their work to search. Yet Duty holds them, and at the 
 moment when they least think, like a shaft of flame dancing 
 across the blackness of their sky thp Fires of the Real and 
 Always burn, and as they grasp it, remain and gleam to light 
 their sphere of action, , until the clouds in shame retreat into 
 the false from whence they came. Of such are Mary Ben- 
 nett and the widowed mother of Cynthia Brown and many 
 others of whom they also are but a type. 
 
 Others yet remain, who, with eyes cast down upon the 
 
pleasures of the world around them, chased a phanthom until 
 it faded from their view and they found themselves dragging 
 weary feet across the Desert of Despair, when in their path 
 a gleam of Firelight fell and stooping idly down to lift it, 
 found themselves in possession of the All. To this last type 
 do John Bennett and Henry Parsons belong, with many others 
 like them drifting idly, idly on. 
 
Contents 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 1. Leesburg 13 
 
 2. A Stranger in the Night 15 
 
 3. ''I Will Do Something" 19 
 
 4. A Preacher in the Hands of Infidels 27 
 
 5. ''My Mother Among the Damned?" 41 
 
 6. To Those Who "Sit in Darkness" 46 
 
 7. An Appeal for Help 58 
 
 8. A Battle With Death 62 
 
 9. A Double Burden Borne Alone 72 
 
 10. Stanley Sends in a Breakfast 79 
 
 11. ''Then Opened He the Scriptures" 89 
 
 12. The Old Tree Hears Strange Things Ill 
 
 13. An Awakening 120 
 
 14. A Sudden Change of Plan 126 
 
 15. The Evening Attendance Grows 131 
 
 16. Putting the Map Together 138 
 
 17. Aunt Maria's Faith 164 
 
 18. A Father's Advice 175 
 
 19. Jennie Learns of a Scheme 181 
 
 20. A Discussion on the Resurrection 188 
 
 21. The Selection of Two Dresses 207 
 
 22. The Earth's Great Day 212 
 
 23. Henry Parsons Returns 230 
 
 24. The Building of the Church 238 
 
 25. John Bennett's Big Fight 255 
 
 26. What Became of the Church 271 
 
 27. Henry Parsons Set Adrift — and Caught Again. .285 
 
 28. "The Land Shadowing With Wings" 305 
 
 29. When Conditions Change 333 
 
30. A Marvelous Work and a Wonder 344 
 
 31. The Factory Burns — Jennie and Cynthia Inside 365 
 
 32. The Circle Widens 375 
 
 33. Jennie Hesitates 388 
 
 34. All Lost but Jennie 's Savings 396 
 
 35. The Ways of Man 406 
 
 36. The Way of God 412 
 
 37. The Gospel Influence at Work 428 
 
Illustrations 
 
 *'I know he h'ars my pra'rs. Dat's enough for 
 
 me." 166 
 
 The tones filled the whole house with harmony. . . . 235 
 
 Like the shadows cast by two great wings 316 
 
 ' ' Will you marry me, Cynthia ? " 341 
 
 ''Cynthia and I have decided to be equally grate- 
 ful to you both. " 377 
 
CHAPTER 1 
 
 LEESBURG 
 
 THE DAY was dying. Over everything had settled 
 that strange quiet w^hich Bill Lakeman said was 
 Nature relaxing before she went to sleep. In the 
 little town of Leesburg there was an unusual stir. The 
 heat of the day had kept under the shade and pro- 
 tection of their own homes all who were not com- 
 pelled to furnish the necessities of life. The few people 
 who found it necessary to be about moved languidly and 
 paused often under the shade of the friendly maple 
 trees which adorned the streets of the town. Now, as 
 evening brought the first sign of relief, they sought 
 recompense by strolling on the town promenade, seek- 
 ing cool retreats in the city parks, or, if one were for- 
 tunate enough to be of that happy age when such a 
 thing were permissible, taking a cool dip in Strong 
 Lake, public bathing being held by the good people of 
 Leesburg to be quite out of the question. 
 
 As the night deepened there was a noticeable de- 
 crease of those on the promenade. Next, the close 
 observer would see that for some the city park had 
 lost its charm ; and finally, but reluctantly, the bathers, 
 striving to eradicate from their persons too strong 
 evidence of the manner in which they had spent the 
 evening, turned their steps homeward. 
 
 By ten o'clock the village was quiet, having seem- 
 
14 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ingly settled itself for the night, except here and there 
 a dwelling with rays of light stealing cautiously from 
 beneath drawn curtains, as if reluctant to give to the 
 world the revelation that those within had disregarded 
 the unwritten law of Leesburg, that all good people 
 should retire early, and were following their own in- 
 clinations and amusing themselves in whatever manner 
 suited them best. 
 
 Along the highway that led past the Silas Perkins 
 farm there walked one who had no such object in view. 
 Indeed, had one suggested at that moment that such a 
 thing as amusement or enjoyment existed, he probably 
 would have met with an emphatic denial. Not that 
 the wanderer was a cynic; nor that many years of 
 varied experiences had passed over his head, bringing 
 to him the soured disposition of the pessimist. On the 
 contrary, had the darkness permitted us to see his face, 
 we would have thought for a moment that he was 
 only a boy. A closer look would have told us we were 
 wrong — ^that the stranger was somewhere near the 
 age of thirty. In this case, however, the darkness was 
 kindly, for it hid a face very white and worn. The 
 step so closely resembling the shambling gait of the 
 very aged, was only the result of extreme exhaustion. 
 Whenever a friendly object offered, he seated himself 
 for a few moments of rest, and then, resolutely set- 
 ting his face toward Leesburg, plodded on. 
 
CHAPTER 2 
 
 A STRANGER IN THE NIGHT 
 
 LEESBURG does not boast of many palatial homes. 
 Its inhabitants were strictly cosmopolitan until 
 Squire Parsons built his residence on State Street 
 (whereupon the name of the street was changed to 
 Wolgast Avenue), hired a retinue of servants, had 
 himself elected to the state legislature, and promptly 
 became the Honorable J. A. Parsons, Esquire. After 
 which a few of the most daring changed their abode of 
 fifty years for a more modern but infinitely less com- 
 fortable dwelling; but none dared surpass the Honor- 
 able Gentleman, or even copy the architecture of the 
 Parsons Mansion. 'Twas enough to be able to point to 
 it with pride and say, ^'Here lives our most important 
 citizen. ' ' Indeed most of the good townsfolk had come 
 to feel that they were part owners of the Parsons resi- 
 dence, with the Honorable J. A. thrown in. This sense 
 of ownership could be easily discerned at each publi- 
 cation of the Leesburg weekly paper, ''Our respected 
 citizen, the Honorable J. A. Parsons, '^ or, ''Our es- 
 teemed patron," (in just what manner he had been the 
 town's patron being quite indefinite) and ''Our much 
 beloved citizen," being pressed into service for the 
 Honorable and him alone. These had become quite 
 sacred' to him. As yet no Lucifer had appeared on the 
 scene to question or aspire to his glory. 
 
16 THE CALL AT EVENING ; 
 
 Among those who ventured to follow at a respectful 
 distance was Marion Burnside, who, having no thought 
 of ever equaling, was quite content with holding sec- 
 ond place. The fact that Marion Burnside was also a 
 deacon in the church which the Honorable one favored 
 with his presence at each Sunday service, was enough 
 in itself to entitle him to that place. Who else oould 
 think of occupying there? Others must be content to 
 allow their individuality to be swallowed up in the 
 mass of Leesburg citizens. 
 
 On the night of which we write, Marion Burnside 
 sat in his very uncomfortable but very modern dwelling 
 long after the hour when the houses of the good were 
 closed and quiet. Not that Marion/Burnside did not 
 consider himself among the good; but having the dis- 
 tinction, as we have already mentioned, of being the 
 second citizen, he did not feel that it was absolutely 
 necessary for him to adhere to the tried and invincible 
 rules which governed the good of Leesburg. 
 
 So it happened that from beneath the drawn cur- 
 tains of this somewhat magnificent residence streamed 
 the telltale rays of light which guided the steps of the 
 wanderer slowly and painfully to the door, in the hope 
 that there he might find some of that mercy and love 
 for humanity which at that time he felt to be such a 
 dire necessity. 
 
 He leaned weakly against a friendly pillar which was 
 one of the many supports of the massive porch which 
 protected the front entrance, while he waited for an an- 
 swer to his timid ring. Perhaps it was the very ti- 
 midity of the ring that was his undoing, or perhaps it 
 
A STRANGER IN THE NIGHT 17 
 
 was the lateness of the hour, for late evening visitors 
 were unusual in Leesburg, and none but the first and 
 second citizens of Leesburg could, with immunity, par- 
 take of the unusual. Be that as it may, Marion Bum- 
 side was in no pleasant mood when he slowly and de- 
 liberately opened the door upon his belated visitor. 
 The only thing at that moment which lightened the op- 
 pressiveness of the atmosphere, was the kindly, delicate 
 face of a young girl who had just entered the room and 
 stood expectantly beside Marion Burnside. Looking at 
 the two as they stood there, one could hardly credit 
 the statement that here were father and daughter. 
 
 The stranger entered, if half falling, half walking 
 could be called an entrance. For a moment the two 
 watched him in silence. 
 
 ' * Well, sir ! " The tone was not kindly. It was Mar- 
 ion Burnside speaking. "What can I do for you?'' 
 
 The young man met his gaze frankly. It cost him an 
 effort to keep the pain he was enduring from showing 
 in his face. 
 
 "I am a wanderer at present," he said. ''I have been 
 so unfortunate as to sustain an injury of my foot. I 
 do not think it serious, however, but am afraid I will be 
 unable to walk the remaining distance into towgi^^ I 
 camie to ask if you would allow me to remain here dur- 
 ing the night. I feel quite sure I will be able to resume 
 my journey to-morrow.'* 
 
 The request came falteringly; evidently he was not 
 accustomed to begging. The heart of Marion Burnside 
 had not been softened. 
 
 ''Young man," he said, ''we are not in the habit of 
 
 I 
 
18 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 taking strangers into our home. We would not con- 
 sider such a proceeding advisable. A man of your 
 age who finds it necessary to walk the road has little 
 to recommend him." 
 
 ''I can give you very good references, sir. I am a 
 minister of the gospel, and if you would like, can show 
 you my ordination certificate and my credentials." 
 
 Had he known it, this was a very poorly chosen re- 
 mark. 
 
 Marion Burnside had no patience with ministers who 
 could not command a salary large enough to make it 
 unnecessary for them to ever ''walk the road." 
 
 ''What church do you represent, may I ask?" The 
 tone was quiet but threatening. 
 
 "Certainly, sir," the stranger answered; "I repre- 
 sent the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter 
 Day Saints." 
 
 The effect of the words was instantaneous. The face 
 of Marion Burnside became livid ; he executed one mag- 
 nificent, imperious gesture, which showed the stranger 
 the door and at the same time banished him from the 
 universe. There was only one thing to do. The face 
 of the young man became one shade whiter than it had 
 been before. With what grace he could with one dis- 
 abled foot, he managed to reach the door and found 
 himself once more a part of the night. It is strange at 
 times what little things can lighten our burdens. Be- 
 fore the door was slammed behind him, he caught the 
 words of the thoroughly aroused girl, and the very re- 
 proach in her tone was in some manner a balm to the 
 wounds he had received. 
 
 ' ' Father, ' ' she cried, "that man was crippled. ' ' 
 
CHAPTER 3 
 
 THE rebuke was lost on Marion Burnside. He 
 calmly went about the closing of the house as 
 though nothing unusual had happened. Jenny 
 watched him with flashing eyes, and finally, as it 
 seemed there was nothing she could do, went quietly 
 to her own room. For this night, however, Marion 
 Burnside had omitted the family prayer. It was the 
 only evidence that he was inwardly disturbed. Jennie 
 was very glad that he had done so. She felt that she 
 could not have listened to one of her father's ponder- 
 ous prayers very worshipfully after what she had just 
 witnessed. Once in the security of her own room, she 
 knelt beside her bed and simply asked God to take care 
 of the stranger and forgive her father. Ordinarily 
 quiet and submissive, there still flowed in her veins the 
 blood of the Burnsides, and to-night she found it im- 
 possible to banish from her mind the white, drawn 
 face of the stranger, or suppress the growing indigna- 
 tion at the attitude of her father. What if he were 
 not of their particular faith? Did that make him less 
 one of God's creatures? She could not have treated a 
 dog SO; and he with an injured foot, unable to go 
 further. Why, the next house was beyond the park; 
 he would never be able to make it. If she were only a 
 man now she might — The thought was never finished. 
 
20 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Determination flashed in her eyes. For once she was a 
 Burnside. The gentler disposition which had been a 
 gift from her mother, slipped from her as a mask. 
 
 ''I will do something," she said; *'I will/' The 
 thought was no sooner bom than it in turn brought 
 forth action. She turned the latch on the low window 
 of her room and stepped out on the wide veranda and 
 ran lightly down the steps to the barn. A low neigh 
 from within showed that her footsteps, light as they 
 had been, were heard and recognized. 
 
 ''You've got to help, Daisy," she said as she threw 
 the saddle lightly on the pony's back. The little animal 
 rubbed her nose against the soft cheek of her mistress 
 in answer. In another moment they were picking their 
 way quietly along the driveway which connected with 
 the highway. Fortunately the moon had just emerged 
 from a light cloud, giving to the night a soothing, gen- 
 tle quiet. For the first time in her life the beauties of 
 a moonlight night were lost to Jennie Burnside, sub- 
 merged in the tempestuous thoughts of her own mind. 
 She scanned the highway closely, and not in vain. She 
 found the stranger sitting in a huddled heap by the 
 roadside, staring with unseeing eyes at the unoffending 
 moon, as though it were in some manner responsible for 
 his troubles. He was unconscious of help so near at 
 hand. He was also unmindful that after all he had 
 found in the home of Marion Burnside that love for 
 humanity for which he had prayed, and that in his own 
 time and way the God whom he served was looking 
 after him and he had not, as he thought, forsaken him 
 or left him alone. 
 
"I WILL DO SOMETHING" 21 
 
 As Jennie Burnside paused a moment, looking at the 
 white face raised to heaven, she was conscious only of 
 an overwhelming pity. She dismounted and came qui- 
 etly to his side. It was not until she had touched him 
 lightly on the arm that he knew of her presence. He 
 started painfully to his feet, with a little startled excla- 
 mation. Then, seeing his companion was a woman, 
 stood hat in hand, stammering with embarrassment. 
 
 "I hardly know what to say to you," she said. *'I 
 did not think it right that you were not allowed to 
 stay with us to-night. I have come to give what help 
 I can. I know you are not able to walk. Can you 
 get on the horse there?" 
 
 The young man hesitated. 
 
 ''What are you going to do?" he asked. 
 
 She understood his question ; an amused smile lighted 
 her face. "Shall I help you mount?" was all she said. 
 He knew it to be a command, and for the second time 
 that night he ol3eyed a Burnside because there seemed 
 to be nothing else to do. 
 
 He never knew how long he rode thus. He was only 
 vaguely conscious that she led the way, walking her- 
 self. When he afterward realized this, his face flushed 
 with shame, and he emphatically condemned his own 
 weakness. He was brought to a realization of the pres- 
 ent when she turned suddenly from the highway and 
 entered a quiet, almost unused lane and, passing 
 through a small grove of trees, came unexpectedly upon 
 an old-fashioned, unpretentious cottage, half -hidden be- 
 neath an abundant growth of clinging ivy. His guide 
 
22 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 stopped and, when he had safely dismounted, pointed 
 to the house and said simply, ^'Go there." 
 
 Before he could thank her she had jumped lightly 
 into the saddle and was gone. He watched her until 
 she was swallowed up in the shadows of the trees, and 
 still stood listening to the clatter of the horse's hoofs 
 until the sound was lost in the distance or had melted 
 into the melody of the night. Then he turned wearily 
 to the house. He could never have told how he 
 reached the door. He only saw for a moment the 
 kindly face of Bill Lakeman as he opened the door 
 in answer to the very feeble knock, as in a haze. The 
 face, losing none of its kindness, seemed suddenly sur- 
 rounded by deeper shadows and was then, loist in 
 blackness. 
 
 ''Stanley!" the old man called. "I think we have 
 work here." 
 
 Together they lifted the unconscious man and car- 
 ried him into the old back parlor, where he was laid 
 gently on a sofa. 
 
 "Looks just like a boy," he continued. "How do 
 you suppose he ever got up here?" 
 
 "It does seem strange," his son answered; "so far 
 from the highway. I think I had better look into 
 this." With a steady hand and unconscious manner, 
 which betoken medical enlightenment, he examined the 
 young man before him. 
 
 "Exhaustion, I think," was all he said. 
 
 The quick eye of Bill Lakeman had discovered some- 
 thing else wrong. He touched Stanley on the shoulder 
 and said: "Look, boy; I'm not a medical man, but I 
 
"I WILL DO SOMETHING" 23 
 
 don't like the way that foot is swollen above the 
 shoe there." 
 
 ''By Jove!" Stanley exclaimed, ''a dislocation, and 
 he has been walking on it. I hope he doesn't regain 
 consciousness until I have finished dressing it. The 
 pain in that foot .must have been dreadful. Here, 
 father; just hold that leg steady a moment; that's it. 
 Now can you get me some hot water?" 
 
 The shoe was removed. Deftly the adjustment was 
 made. Stanley watched his patient closely for signs 
 of returning consciousness, but as yet he remained 
 blissfully ignorant of what was passing. 
 
 ''What do you think?" Bill Lakeman asked as he 
 returned. 
 
 "It's a bad foot," his son answered. "He'll not 
 walk on it again soon." 
 
 "He's probably a stranger and out of money," the 
 father said. He watched his son curiously to see what 
 would be the effect of these words. 
 
 Stanley raised his head. "Well, father, we are not 
 quite destitute, are we?" he asked. Whatever his 
 father had hoped to hear, he was evidently not disap- 
 pointed. 
 
 "Stanley, my boy," he said; "I knew the colleges 
 would never spoil you. I knew you would always be 
 the same warm-hearted boy." 
 
 Stanley Lakeman was very much embarrassed by his 
 father's praise. He only dropped his head and re- 
 sumed the dressing of the injured foot. His father, 
 seeing his embarrassment, shrewdly left the room. 
 
 Thoughts of himself were fleeting, for the stranger 
 
24 THE CALL AT EVENING' 
 
 was showing signs of returning consciousness. Stan- 
 ley worked rapidly. He had just finished the securing 
 of the last of the bandages when the young man 
 opened his eyes and looked into the face of the man 
 bending over him. 
 
 ''Feeling better now?" Stanley asked kindly. 
 
 The other looked as though he did not understand. 
 Seeing the bewilderment in his eyes, Stanley smiled 
 the more reassuringly as he held a glass of water to 
 the stranger's lips. 
 
 ''You'll be all right as soon as you have rested 
 awhile," he said. A sudden twinge of pain from the 
 injured foot seemed to bring to the stranger a recol- 
 lection of the thing that had brought about his pres- 
 ent predicament. 
 
 "Oh, I remember!" he said. "I could not see where 
 I was going and hurt my foot." He raised himself 
 slightly and looked at the offending member and then 
 raised his eyes in astonishment to the face of the 
 young man beside him. 
 
 "Why, who — are you a physician?" 
 
 Stanley could not keep the twinkle out of his eyes. 
 "No," he said, "I'm just an excuse for one." 
 
 "I don't know how to thank you," the other con- 
 tinued. "I remember knocking at a door — ^was it this 
 house? A kind-looking old gentleman came to the 
 door and then I think I must have fainted." 
 
 This time Stanley turned his face away that his com- 
 panion might not see his smile. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I think you must have." A mo- 
 ment later he was again a physician. "Now we will 
 
"I WILL DO SOMETHING" 25 
 
 not talk any more to-night. You may tell me all you 
 care to to-morrow. But you see it is now past mid- 
 night. I think we need the rest, don't you?" 
 
 It was impossible not to catch some of the young 
 physician's cheerfulness. The trying, depressing ex- 
 periences of the day were already slipping from him. 
 He had a feeling that they must have happened to 
 some one else or have been a part of a bad dream. But 
 for an occasional sharp pain from the injured foot, 
 which savored all too plainly of reality, he could have 
 persuaded himself that it was indeed only a dream 
 from which he had not yet awakened. 
 
 Stanley helped him into an adjoining room, to which 
 there seemed to cling such an atmosphere of home 
 that the young man would have found it restful in it- 
 self, even had it not had the additional advantage of 
 an old-fashioned, high-topped bedstead, with the gen- 
 erous, indispensable feather bed and the coolest of 
 linen sheets. There had been a time in his life when 
 such things had been quite commonplace ; but, to-night, 
 if there existed on earth a greater luxury, he was un- 
 able to comprehend it. 
 
 Stanley saw with what evident satisfaction the young 
 man sank among the feathers, and still stood beside 
 him as he drifted with the simplicity of a child into 
 helpful, restful slumber. When a few minutes later 
 Stanley sought his own room, there was in his heart 
 that peculiar joy in living which comes only to those 
 who are always ready to extend a helping hand to 
 those in life less fortunate than themselves, and who 
 are ever ready to reach out and help those in need. 
 
26 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 To such alone are given to comprehend and appreciate 
 the great common brotherhood of mankind. 
 
 Bill Lakeman coming in a moment later, saw at a 
 glance that the work of the evening was finished, and 
 without the preliminary of locking the house against 
 an expected burglar, sought his own room, and with 
 the ease and grace of the clean-minded, was quickly 
 swallowed up in the great common oblivion, and the 
 old house was once more in the grasp of the mystery 
 of night 
 
CHAPTER 4 
 A PREACHER IN THE HANDS OF INFIDELS 
 
 BILL LAKEMAN was one of those sturdy charac- 
 ters who map out a certain routine of life; to 
 whom life is one round of duty well performed, 
 and with whose system of life nothing is permitted to 
 interfere. The morning following the arrival of the 
 unexpected guest, he was up at precisely the same 
 hour that governed his rising every other day in the 
 year. He made no eifort to ''make up" for the sleep 
 lost in the earlier part of the night. Moreover, he 
 was a lover of nature. The fact that he had watched 
 the sun rise from behind the same hill every clear 
 morning for fifty years, seemed to take nothing from 
 the pleasure with which he watched it on that par- 
 ticular morning, and would continue to watch it so 
 long as strength should be given him to stand in the 
 door of his cottage. 
 
 Stanley Lakeman was in many ways much like his 
 father. He had his father's ardent love for the beau- 
 tiful in nature, and it was never to him an ' ' old story. ' ' 
 However, he did not watch the rising of the sun from 
 the rear entrance of the Lakeman cottage. His favorite 
 indulgence was an early morning gallop, usually ex- 
 tending to the top of a hill two miles distant, which 
 commanded even a better view of the rising sun than 
 the back door regularly occupied by his father. This 
 
28 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 morning he sat on his horse, hat in hand, head thrown 
 back, while the early morning breezes playfully tossed 
 the wavy locks of his brown hair, his eyes (the eyes of 
 an enthusiast) fixed on the tiny line of a crimson disk, 
 as the sun took its first cautious peep above the hori- 
 zon. He did not move, but the enthusiasm in his eyes 
 deepened as the tiny line gradually transformed itself 
 into a great crimson ball. 
 
 ''Jove!" he exclaimed, ''she's a beauty! I can't 
 wonder sometimes that the old pagans couldn't keep 
 from worshiping her. She's about the most worship- 
 ful thing I've seen. What do you think about it, 
 Spider ? ' ' addressing his horse. ' ' Don 't you think life 
 is worth living on a morning like this? Suppose you 
 and I take a run for the hill yonder? What do you 
 say?" 
 
 The little animal seemed to understand perfectly the 
 words of her master. There was one brief moment 
 when she seemed to gather all the strength of her lithe 
 body, and the next moment she was off. It was not 
 the half-hearted gallop of the ordinary ride which is 
 made for the pleasure of the rider alone. Oh, no! 
 Spider ran for the pure pleasure of running. And she 
 ran! She well knew that this one gallop was given 
 over to her to do with as she pleased, and, like the 
 master she loved, when she pleased to do a thing it 
 was done with all the ardor of her nature. 
 
 Stanley made no move to interfere. Leaning over, 
 he gave her free rein. He felt her bend to the ground 
 as the trees and the fence posts flew past. The warm 
 wind blew his hair wildly about his face as he gave 
 
IN THE HANDS OF INFIDELS 29 
 
 himself up to the pony^s moment of play. When the 
 crest of the next hill was won she stopped as a matter 
 of course, and seemed to say: "You, now, are master 
 again.*' 
 
 ''Good girl," commended Stanley, as soon as he 
 could regain his breath. "Wouldn't you make the 
 racer, now? But you'll never have to do it, little 
 horse. Why, I'd pound the first man who tried to 
 make you a part of his gambling scheme. Do you 
 think we could eat breakfast now? Suppose we go 
 home." 
 
 A few minutes later he jumped from his horse in the 
 barnyard, just as his father turned to go indoors. 
 
 "It's hard to tell, Stanley," he said, "which enjoyed 
 that ride most ; you, or the horse. ' ' 
 
 "I wish you could have seen her run, father," his 
 son answered. "Just like the wind. She enjoyed it 
 like a schoolboy." 
 
 ' "She's not the only one who enjoyed it like a school- 
 boy," returned Bill Lakeman, laughing. 
 
 "Well, how's our stranger?" Stanley asked, with 
 his face half buried in a tin washbasin. 
 
 "Asleep yet, I think," his father answered. "And, 
 unless I am mistaken, he needs all of it he can get." 
 
 ' ' Yes ; he was about done up, ' ' Stanley replied. " I '11 
 go in and see if he is awake. I'll let him use those 
 crutches of Uncle John's if you don't mind." 
 
 "Take them along," Bill Lakeman said. "You'll 
 find them in that closet back of the stove." 
 
 Stanley opened the door cautiously, intending not 
 to awaken the sleeper ; but his precaution was unneces- 
 
30 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 sary. The young man was awake, and evidently in 
 trying to arise had made the unpleasant discovery 
 that there could be no walking for that day at least. 
 His face was consequently clouded. It is not pleasant 
 to be disabled and among strangers, without the neces- 
 sary means to pay for service rendered. To one of his 
 sensitive nature the pain of that thought was harder 
 to endure than physical suffering. His manliness and 
 fortitude came to his assistance in the latter but 
 shrank from him in the former. Stanley read some- 
 thing of all this in the troubled look he saw on the 
 other's face when he opened the door, and somehow 
 his respect for the stranger deepened. 
 
 ''Well, sir; I hope you have had a pleasant sleep,'* 
 was his cheerful morning greeting. 
 
 ''Indeed I have," the other answered. "This bed 
 seemed like paradise to me last night. It also made 
 me dream of my grandmother." 
 
 "When I was away at school, sleeping on a two- 
 fifty mattress, I used to dream of these old beds, I can 
 tell you," Stanley answered, laughing. "A man never 
 appreciates his beds at home until he gets away once." 
 
 "No; and there are many others things at home, 
 I'm thinking, that he doesn't appreciate until he gets 
 away," the other answered sadly. With Stanley's as- 
 sistance the stranger was soon able to join Bill Lake- 
 man in the kitchen, which served also as a dining 
 room and to a great extent as living room,, in Aunt 
 Sophronia's absence. Bill Lakeman had prepared an 
 appetizing breakfast and it was steaming on the table 
 when he heard the tap of the crutches and turned to 
 
IN THE HANDS OF INFIDELS 31 
 
 welcome the young stranger quite as cordially as he 
 v/ould had he come to them as an invited guest. 
 
 In the brief moment that Bill Lakeman looked at 
 the young man as he entered, he saw a clear-cut, manly 
 face from which a pair of blue eyes looked straight 
 into his own ; light hair, of which ' there was not a 
 heavy growth; a sensitive mouth which might have 
 denoted weakness had not that trait of character been 
 strictly denied by the square-cut firmness of the chin 
 beneath. All this Bill Lakeman saw, and at once knew 
 he had found a friend. Stanley Lakeman had made 
 that discovery the night before. Thus in this brief 
 period of time the young man had passed from the 
 stranger class into that of friend. He was not aware 
 of this, however, so he still strove unsuccessfully to 
 put from his mind the ever-recurring question of how 
 he was ever to repay these people for their kindness. 
 If he hadn't 
 
 The thought was put from him forcefully, for he 
 knew he had done his duty as he had seen it and would 
 do the same again. 
 
 ''Well, young man," Bill Lakeman said, "I hope 
 you have an appetite this morning. You see cooking 
 isn't my regular line and I haven't just got my hand 
 in." 
 
 The young man smiled appreciatively. **You need 
 have no fears along that line," he said. He might 
 have confided to them that he had eaten nothing since 
 breakfast of the preceding day, but he thought best 
 to leave them in the dark as to that. 
 
 Bill Lakeman might have thought the evident pleas- 
 
32 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 lire with which his guest partook of the carefully pre- 
 pared breakfast was a compliment to his culinary 
 ability, but a certain shrewdness in his glance seemed 
 k) say he had guessed a reason far removed from 
 that. There were no questions asked. It became quite 
 evident none would be. There was a certain grateful- 
 ness in the breast of the stranger when he realized 
 that they would accept him for what they believed him 
 to be and that there would never be the necessity for 
 them to know his life unless he chose to tell. How- 
 ever, he did choose to tell, for in his life there had 
 never been anything which he wished to hide. The 
 meal was half finished when he raised his eyes and 
 looked straight into those of Bill Lakeman. 
 
 ''Don't you think it is about time for me to intro- 
 duce myself?" he said with a smile. ''Under the cir- 
 cumstances I think you have a right to wish to know 
 something about me." 
 
 "If you do it because you would like to have us 
 know, then we would like to know. If you do it from 
 a sense of duty, it is unnecessary." The words were 
 Bill Lakeman 's. The stranger felt that they were 
 characteristic of the bigness of the man. 
 
 "I would like to have you know," he said. "My 
 name is Alfred Stewart. My home is in Glendon, 
 Michigan." 
 
 "And my name, Mr. Stewart, is Lakeman. This is 
 my son Stanley." 
 
 "When Bill Lakeman had made this simple statement, 
 Alfred turned and looked straight at Stanley Lake- 
 man. It has been said that there are times when men 
 
IN THE HANDS OF INFIDELS 33 
 
 read each other's souls. Be that as it may, we do not 
 know. But as Alfred Stewart and Stanley Lakeman 
 each looked for that moment into the eyes of the other, 
 they were given to know that from henceforth they 
 would be friends. It is well that the question of mu- 
 tual friendship was settled definitely at that psycho- 
 logical moment, for, had it been hanging in the bal- 
 ance, the next words spoken by Alfred Stewart would 
 probably have added the weight to the wrong side of 
 the scales. 
 
 ''My coming to you as I did last night must seem 
 very strange, "he said. ''I will tell you all there is to 
 tell and then you may be the judges. I am a minister 
 of the gospel — " 
 
 Alfred Stewart was enough a reader of humanity 
 to see the look of disappointment on the faces of his 
 hearers. He vaguely wondered if here they were to 
 have the same effect they had on another occasion not 
 many hours before. Bill Lakeman said with a mirth- 
 less laugh: 
 
 ''Young man, you couldn't have given yourself . a 
 worse recommendation in this family. Stanley and I 
 hate preachers as we hate snakes. In fact, we don't 
 think there is much difference. And you will probably 
 think as much less of us when I tell you we are infi- 
 dels." 
 
 Alfred Stewart smiled. He was much less afraid 
 of infidels than of hypocritical Christians. He usually 
 found an infidel perfectly honest and sincere. His 
 quick sense of humor relieved the situation. 
 
 "I'm glad, in that case, I didn't tell you I was a 
 
34 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 preadher last night," he said. **I'm afraid I should 
 have missed that good hed as well as this breakfast." 
 He had not intended this for a diplomatic remark. 
 Had he so intended, it would have failed miserably. 
 As it was, both men looked relieved. 
 
 ''Furthermore, my own ease is worse," he continued. 
 ''I can understand that to you the fact that a preacher 
 should ever get to need assistance as I needed it last 
 night, looks a little extraordinary, to say the least. 
 I left Usk early yesterday morning for Bridgewater, 
 where I expected to start a series of meetings. I had 
 a little money; not much, but enough to pay my ex- 
 penses. When I reached this station — well, something 
 happened; I'd rather not say just what, but I decided 
 to walk. I felt that I must reach Bridgewater and 
 there was nothing to do but forget the distance. So 
 I started. I should have gotten along much better, 
 only I had not saved back enough money to get meals 
 along the way. I had a foolish pride, too. I thought 
 once or twice I would stop and ask to cut some wood 
 to get a meal," he went on, ''but when the time came 
 I just couldn't do it. I was not above cutting the 
 wood, but in that way it was too much like begging. 
 So I just walked on all day through the heat, with 
 nothing to keep up my strength. 
 
 ' ' There isn 't much more to tell. You can easily guess 
 the rest. The worst part was my accident, which has 
 placed me in an awkward position, for I may as well" 
 tell you frankly that I am not in a position, at present, 
 to pay you for your kindness. If I could have gone on 
 to-day, it would not have seemed quite so bad. As it 
 
IN THE HANDS OF INFIDELS 35 
 
 is, I can only hope to relieve you of the burden to- 
 morrow." 
 
 ''No, Mr. Stewart," Stanley said, "you will not be 
 able to walk on that foot to-morrow, the next day, or 
 the next; so you had just as well make up your mind 
 to stay with us that long at least." 
 
 Alfred looked terror-stricken. The thought of thus 
 being dependent was a painful one to him. His com- 
 panions saw this and their hearts warmed to him 
 again, regardless of their knowledge as to his calling. 
 
 "Oh, I can't do that," he said. 
 
 "You must." The old smile was back in Stanley's 
 eyes. "You are my patient, you know." 
 
 ' ' 'Twouid be unkind of you, ' ' Bill Lakeman said, 
 "to run away because you found I was not a good 
 cook." 
 
 • There was nothing more to be said. He would find 
 it necessaiy to stay; that much was evident. Alfred 
 laughed a little constrainedly. "You will at least al- 
 low me to write for enough to pay my board, I sup- 
 pose?" 
 
 Bill Lakeman laughed and slapped his guest on the 
 back good-naturedly. 
 
 "You mean you want to save your own self-respect? 
 Well, go ahead and write your letter. But in the mean- 
 time don't fret. I've got to put the house in order; 
 Sophronia will be back to-day. She is my sister who 
 keeps house for us," he added, as an explanation to 
 Alfred. 
 
 "Why, this is Wednesday, to be sure," Stanley said. 
 **I'll wash the dishes, father, while you straighten the 
 
36 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 rest of the house. It wouldn't do for Aunt Sophronia 
 to come back and find it upset. She would never go 
 again. ' ' 
 
 "And I'll sit in this chair and dry them for you," 
 Alfred said. 
 
 There was much bustling around for the next hour. 
 The young men had completed their task and had 
 seated themselves in the old back parlor while Bill 
 Lakeman was putting the finishing touches on the room, 
 when the door opened and in walked Aunt Sophronia 
 herself. 
 
 ''Why, Aunt Sophronia!" Stanley exclaimed. ''We 
 were not expecting you so early. I intended meeting 
 you at ten." 
 
 "Well, you needn't," she said. "That train's 
 changed time and I reckon I know the way home 
 myself." 
 
 She was in the act of setting down her handbag when 
 her eyes fell upon Alfred Stewart. She stared at him 
 in open-mouthed astonishment. Alfred also looked very 
 much confused. The recognition had been mutual. 
 
 "Bill Lakeman !" she said, in so emphatic a tone that 
 he and Stanley felt she was about to bring some accu- 
 sation against their guest. In fact, the look on Alfred's 
 face strengthened this feeling. "Give that man five 
 dollars!" 
 
 At these unexpected words Alfred sprang to his feet 
 and held out his hand imploringly. "Don't," he said; 
 "he has paid it a thousand times." 
 
 This was something of an exaggeration, but Alfred 
 was excited. When Stanlev and his father had recov- 
 
IN THE HANDS OF INFIDELS 37 
 
 ered from their astonishment, Stanley stepped to Al- 
 fred's side and pushed him gently back into his chair. 
 
 "When I tell you to jump on that foot, you jump; 
 not before," he said. ''Now, Aunt Sophronia, you can 
 tell your story; only don't excite this man again; he's 
 my patient. ' ' 
 
 ''Well, I'll declare!" Aunt Sophronia began. "I 
 don't know what I'd done if it hadn't been for this 
 man. I was just that near distracted I didn't know 
 what to do. I lost that pocketbook you gave me ; so 
 when I got into Usk, I didn't have no pocketbook, no 
 ticket, no nothing. I'd came right straight back home, 
 but law me ! It cost as much to come home as it did to 
 go on, and I didn't have no money to do neither. Well, 
 this young man, he just see me nearly worrying my 
 head off and he up and gave me five dollars. I declare 
 I don't know w^hat I'd a done." 
 
 Bill Lakeman looked for a moment very straight at 
 Alfred, whose face flushed painfully. "So that's where 
 your money w^ent, is it? That's why you're broke?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Yes, Aunt Sophronia," broke in Stanley, laying his 
 hand on Alfred's shoulder, "this young man gave you 
 all the money he had and walked all the way from Usk 
 to Leesburg without a bite to eat." 
 
 This was too much for Alfred. Sheer embarrassment 
 forced him to speak. "Oh!" he remonstrated, "it 
 was nothing." 
 
 "Oh, no!" Stanley mocked, "it was nothing." 
 
 Alfred's embarrassment was very much relieved as 
 Bill Lakeman 's hearty laugh rang out. 
 
38 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Well, my boy," he said, ''I guess you'll not insist 
 on writing that letter, will you?" 
 
 ' ' No, " Alfred said faintly. ' ' I '11 not insist. ' ' 
 
 Then Bill Lakeman went out into the yard, away from 
 the eyes and the ears of the others, and laughed long 
 and heartily. Perhaps he laughed as much at his own 
 expense as at Alfred's for Alfred was a preacher and 
 Bill Lakeman had always hated preachers. 
 
 Stanley and his father had the good sense to appar- 
 ently forget the occurrence, which seemed such an em- 
 barrassing one to their guest. But Aunt Sophronia 
 could not refrain from an occasional ''Law me!" as 
 she moved about her household duties. She evidently 
 had plans of her own by which to show Alfred how 
 much she appreciated his kindness, for as the eleventh 
 hour drew near, very appetizing odors came stealing 
 from- the regions of the kitchen. Perhaps she guessed 
 that the thoughts of not being able to pay his way had 
 kept the young man from making up for his losses of 
 the previous day at breakfast. At any rate he thought 
 he had never tasted a dinner quite so fine as the one 
 she soon placed before them. This time he felt per- 
 fectly free to make the good lady happy by eating 
 abundantly of the repast she had prepared. 
 
 When they had left the table Stanley said : ' ' There 's 
 one thing I don't understand; that is, how did you 
 come to get to our place up here? It is away off the 
 road and your head was not clear enough to have 
 picked it out if you had tried." 
 
 "No," Alfred said; "I did not pick it out." Then 
 he told them of his call for aid at the Burnside home. 
 
IN THE HANDS OF INFIDELS 39 
 
 his ejection from the house, its cause, and of the help 
 he had received from Jennie Burnside. Bill Lakeman 
 was quite indignant. He could not understand how 
 Marion Burnside could possibly stoop so low. When 
 Bill Lakeman had gone out, Stanley seated himself on 
 the arm of the chair in which Alfred was reclining and 
 laid his arm on the other's shoulder. 
 
 **A short time ago," he said, "I had a talk with a 
 young lady on the subject of infidelity. Since then I 
 have done a great deal of thinking. It's just things 
 like this that puzzle me. Isn't it strange that you should 
 meet Aunt Sophronia, and as a result of befriending 
 her you should visit Leesburg when you had no inten- 
 tion whatever of doing so? Arriving in Leesburg, 
 that you should come to this house, of all others — the 
 one there would be the least likelihood of just happen- 
 ing on? It doesn't seem just like accident, does it?" 
 
 ''To me, the hand of God is quite plain in the mat- 
 ter," Alfred said. 
 
 ''Perhaps you and Hazel are right; perhaps there is 
 a God after all. I wish I could settle that question." 
 
 Alfred looked up quickly and caught a troubled look 
 on Stanley's face. "Don't worry about it," he said. 
 "Some day that question will settle itself for you and 
 you will know there is a God. ' ' 
 
 As evening drew near, Stanley detected a question 
 on the face of his friend. 
 
 "What now?" he said. 
 
 ' ' Nothing serious this time, ' ' Alfred answered. ' ' But 
 last night sometime I must have lost my books. You 
 know a preacher without books could never be a sue- 
 
40 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 cess. I have been trying to figure out where I could 
 have lost them. I know I had them when Marion Burn- 
 side came to the door and bade me good-night. . . .Well, 
 we'll not worry about them." 
 
 ''The way other things have worked out, it would 
 not surprise me to see your books walk in," Stanley 
 bantered. ''Shall I go down and see if they are com- 
 ing up the lane?" 
 
 "I don't think I would bother," Alfred returned. 
 "I think they will find the house without help. Sup- 
 pose we move out where we can call them if we see 
 them passing." 
 
 Bill Lakeman, coming up just in time to hear the 
 boys' laughter, smiled to see Stanley, who had shared 
 his antipathy for preachers, enjoying the association 
 of this one so decidedly. 
 
 The delightfully cool breezes which came with the 
 evening, being a pleasing contrast to the heat of the 
 summer day, soon brought Bill Lakeman to his favor- 
 ite chair, and Aunt Sophronia with her needlework to 
 join the young men in their nook beneath the honey- 
 suckles, and evening had again settled over Leesburg. 
 
CHAPTER 5 
 
 "MY MOTHER AMONG THE DAMNED?" 
 
 JENNIE BURNSIDE, when she left Alfred at the 
 door of the Lakeman cottage and galloped away 
 into the night, had been a very thoughtful girl. 
 She realized she had done a peculiar thing and that, 
 had her father known, he would have been very angry. 
 Yet she experienced a peculiar satisfaction with life 
 in general. 
 
 Surrounded as she had always been with the com- 
 forts and luxuries of life, there seemed to be no reason 
 why her life should not be perfectly happy and care- 
 free. Yet Jennie Burnside had not been happy. There 
 had come into her life, when her mother died, a shadow 
 which had never lifted, and as time went on and her 
 own mind had developed, she had tried to think and 
 reason away the shadow, but the only help available^ — 
 books from her father's library — ^had only succeeded in 
 making deeper the blackness. When she had tried to 
 talk to the minister, thinking one so learned in the 
 things of God could tell her all she desired to know, she 
 had found only that the burden on her heart could 
 never be lifted; that throughout this life and the eter- 
 nity to follow, it must remain the same. 
 
 As she rode along these thoughts came crowding 
 into her mind, and the sorrow she had forgotten for a 
 time, returned. She scarcely noticed when the little 
 
42 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 horse slowed to a walk and almost stopped by the road- 
 side. "I can't help it/' she murmured. *'I suppose it 
 is wicked; but I'm afraid I could never be happy in 
 heaven. Why, Daisy, what is the matter? Oh!" In 
 the moonlight, Jennie had discovered a small black case 
 which at once she remembered having seen that evening 
 in the hand of Alfred Stewart. ''It must have been 
 left when I had him get onto the horse. " Jennie smiled 
 at the recollection. ''What shall I do with it? I 
 can't take it up there to-night. To-morrow will do 
 quite as well." 
 
 With these thoughts in mind, she touched the pony 
 lightly with the tip of her whip and was soon stealing 
 quietly into the icy grandeur of her own home. On 
 this night, however, the shadow of her life seemed to 
 clamor for thought ; and, strive as she might, she could 
 not put the matter from her mind or keep the sorrowful 
 look from her eyes. Jennie had loved her mother de- 
 votedly and at best would never have ceased to miss 
 her and long for her companionship. The very coldness 
 of her father and the equal coldness of his religion, 
 made this feeling the more intense. And to-night the 
 last conversation she had had with her mother came 
 back so vividly that tears were brought to her eyes 
 by the memory. 
 
 Her father had been reading as usual from the Bible, 
 and she had noticed a peculiar expression on her moth- 
 er's face. Jennie had that moment realized that all 
 her religious training had come from her father; that 
 her mother had never spoken to her of religion or of 
 God. When they were alone she had asked: "Mother, 
 
"MOTHER AMONG THE DAMNED" 43 
 
 don't you believe in God?" Her mother had looked 
 at her doubtfully for a moment, and then said sadly : 
 
 ' ' I don 't know, daughter ; but I want you to believe. 
 I want you always to believe." 
 
 ''But, mother, why don't you?" 
 
 ''I have tried to, dear; tried, oh, so hard; but it 
 seems I just can't. There are so many conflicting 
 theories in the world. I never could decide which was 
 right. Again, when I sit in church and hear the say- 
 ing, ' God is love, ' I seem to see on every hand evidence 
 that God is not a God of love, but of vengeance." 
 
 "But, mother, if you should die feeling that way, 
 what would become of your soul?" Jennie had cried, 
 almost in alarm. She could hear yet the quiet sadness 
 of her mother's voice as she answered: 
 
 ''I suppose I would be lost." 
 
 ''Then why don't you try to believe?" she had 
 asked again. 
 
 "I have tried," her mother answered. "But, Jen- 
 nie, I' cannot; at least I could not love God. My 
 mother and father were good, kind-hearted people, 
 but neither of them believed. If, now, I would accept 
 religion and join the church, I would do it knowing 
 that for their disbelief and infidelity they are being 
 punished in hell. Your father read to-night, 'He that 
 helieveth and is baptized shall be saved, and he that 
 believeth not shall be danmed.' My mother among the 
 damned! She only disbelieved because she could not 
 be true to herself and believe. She could not see that 
 way. No ! No ! I would much rather believe there is 
 no God ; that when life is done all is ended. There i^ 
 
44 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 some comfort in that thought; in the other there is 
 none/' 
 
 ''But, mother, suppose after all there is a God, what 
 good would the comfort you get from the belief that 
 he does not exist do you? Would it not be better for 
 you to believe and save yourself?" 
 
 Mrs. Burnside answered bitterly : * ' If it is true, and 
 my mother is among the damned I could never be 
 happy in heaven. I would rather share her exile with 
 her." 
 
 One short week later, in the quiet, shady cemetery 
 just north of Leesburg, Mrs. Burnside was laid to rest, 
 and the shadow of her own life settled over the life of 
 her daughter. For Jennie believed. She could not 
 even comfort herself by doubting the existence 
 of Grod. She had never again enjoyed her elegant 
 home or the pleasures of life around her, for the books 
 in her father's library told her that in the place where 
 her mother had gone there was "weeping and ^wailing 
 and gnashing of teeth." 
 
 ''Oh, surely, surely God could not do it," she 
 
 moaned to-night, as she seemed to hear the words and 
 
 see again the sad, sweet face of her mother. Into her 
 
 own heart there crept a feeling of rebellion. "Oh, if 
 
 . I could only know." 
 
 The very intensity of her own prayer surprised her, 
 and strangely there came before her mind again the 
 picture of the white, worn face of the stranger. "An- 
 other example," she reasoned. "He is spending his 
 time working for God, and just see how God lets him 
 
"MOTHER AMONG THE DAMNED" 45 
 
 suffer. Oh, mother, I am like you. I can't see the 
 way; I can't see the way." 
 
 During the tumult of her thoughts, Jennie had 
 thrown herself into a chair in her room, utterly un- 
 mindful of her surroundings. As she raised her head 
 her eyes lighted on the bookcase at her feet. 
 
 ''Oh, I wonder if he could help me to see. If I only 
 dared ask him ! Why not ? ' ' She must see him to-mor- 
 row to return his books. That was the work in life he 
 had chosen. Somehow she felt she could talk to him; 
 felt that he would understand. Strangely comforted, 
 she sought her bed, determined that on the morrow 
 she would make one more effort to learn of the things 
 of God, and fell asleep. 
 
CHAPTER 6 
 TO THOSE WHO "SIT IN DARKNESS" 
 
 WHEN Bill Lakeman joined Stanley and Alfred 
 in the retreat they had found beneath the 
 honeysuckle, he was surprised to find that he 
 experienced for his young guest nothing of the aver- 
 sion he usually entertained for preachers. There was 
 no restraint in the smile with which he greeted them. 
 
 ''Life is worth living on an evening like this," he 
 said. ''Look at the sun there; it just naturally hates 
 to go down." 
 
 "It is beautiful, isn't it?" Alfred replied. "Just see 
 the color of the sky there above the trees. I always 
 felt that I would like to be an artist when I see a sky 
 like that." 
 
 "Yes," Stanley said; "this old house with its ivy 
 vine, Aunt Sophronia knitting on the veranda, the 
 trees and the hill for a background, finished with a 
 sunset like that — who would not w^ant to paint it?" 
 
 "Truly," Alfred said, "the Creator of this universe 
 was an artist ! ' ' 
 
 He had not intended to say that. UncoiLsciously he 
 had spoken aloud. Both Stanley and his father under- 
 stood, yet a strange quiet fell upon them. Neither 
 seemed to know what to say ; their confusion was soon 
 forgotten, for floating on the evening breeze the even 
 rhythm of hoof beats came to tliem. 
 
THOSE WHO "SIT IN DARKNESS" 47 
 
 *^We are evidently going to have company,'* Stan- 
 ley said, then laughed. ' ' We were saying a monnent 
 ago your books might walk in. I do believe they are 
 coming in on horseback. ' ' 
 
 ''I'm afraid not," Alfred returned. "'I shall proba- 
 bly never see them again." 
 
 By this time, emerging from the trees, the horse and 
 rider came into view. 
 
 "Why, it's Jennie Burnside," Bill Lakeman said. 
 "What can bring her here?" ' 
 
 As the girl drew near, Alfred was vaguely wonder- 
 ing how he would find wordsi to express his gratitude 
 for the assistance she had given him. He was also 
 aware that a meeting with her would be embarrassing. 
 She sprang lightly from the horse and came up the 
 walk with the easy grace of youth. Alfred almost 
 gasped when he became aware that in her hand she 
 was carrying his books. 
 
 She came directly to the group beneath the honey- 
 suckle, nodding brightly to Aunt Sophronia as she 
 passed. When she stood beside Bill Lakeman she 
 stopped and said: "Mr. Lakeman, last night it was 
 given to me to come in contact with one who was badly 
 in need of assistance which I was unable to give myself, 
 so I took the liberty of sending him to you. I felt sure 
 you would gladly render the assistance necessary. I 
 see I was not mistaken." 
 
 Before Bill Lakeman had found words to reply, Al- 
 fred had struggled to his feet and said warmly : 
 
 "Indeed you were not; and, Miss Burnside, I want 
 now to express to you both my thanks for what you 
 
48 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 have done, but do not find words at my command. 1 
 can only leave you to guess the extent of my grati- 
 tude." 
 
 Stanley, who could endure anything better than 
 spoken praise, interrupted: ''Well, Jennie, those are 
 pretty speeches, but I am most curious to know what 
 that thing you are carrying can be." 
 
 "Oh," she answered, ''I found it last night where 
 I think this gentleman must have left it, by the road- 
 side." 
 
 ''You don't mean " 
 
 ''Yes," Alfred answered his unspoken question, 
 "it's my books." 
 
 Stanley looked at Alfred for a moment, then, humor 
 predominating, laughed heartily. 
 
 Jennie and Bill Lakeman did not understand it, but 
 each was more at ease, and when Aunt Sophronia had 
 placed a chair for her, Jennie felt much of the dread 
 with which she had looked forward to this interview 
 slipping from her. 
 
 With characteristic straightforwardness she turned 
 to Alfred. "Mr. " 
 
 "Stewart," he supplied, seeing her hesitation. 
 
 "Mr. Stewart," she said, "you said last evening 
 when you were talking to my father, that you were a 
 minister of the gospel, did you not?" 
 
 "It is my pleasure to try to represent Christ," he 
 answered. "I believe he has called me to do so." 
 
 "It may seem strange to you, but it was that state- 
 ment in particular which brought me here to-night. I 
 have felt for some time that I must talk to some one 
 
THOSE WHO "SIT IN DARKNESS" 49 
 
 who understands God and his work, but have shrunk 
 from speaking to them. I felt perhaps that you could 
 understand and help me." 
 
 ''I shall be more than glad to do anything in my 
 power," he said gently. 
 
 ' ' Well, you see, I am not an infidel, ' ' she continued ; 
 ''but, oh, I am sometimes so much afraid I will be!" 
 
 ''What, you, Jennie!" Stanley exclaimed. "I 
 thought " 
 
 "Yes, I know," she interrupted, "and so do others; 
 but often those nearest us little know the thoughts of 
 our hearts. It may seem strange that I should speak 
 of it in this way. But I never can tell you how much 
 it means to me. I tried to ask our minister, but was 
 only unhappy as a result. I feel sometimes that the 
 Bible cannot be true. I can only see God as a monster, 
 when I should reverence him as a father. Mr. Stewart, 
 tell me, how can I love a God who would send my 
 mother to hell? who could place her eternally among 
 the damned because she could not understand ; because 
 she could not comprehend him and his work?" 
 
 The girl's voice ended in a faint sob. A sympathetic 
 silence was over those who listened. Bill Lakeman and 
 Stanley felt that she had asked Alfred a question for 
 which no answer existed. They waited eagerly for 
 him to speak. When the words finally came his face 
 and voice were softened with suppressed emotion. 
 
 "You couldn't," he said. "God himself would not 
 expect you to." The faces of his hearers showed how 
 utterly unexpected his answer had been. Alfred con- 
 tinued : 
 
50 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 There are so many conflicting theories in the world, 
 taught in the name of truth, that I am not surprised 
 that your mother found it impossible to see the way. 
 So often do those occupying the pulpits of our land 
 picture to us the God of vengeance that it is not sur- 
 prising that we grow to think of him in that way. 
 When I look about me and see the teachings in the 
 world, in the name of religion, I am not surprised that 
 thinking men and women are drawn into infidelity. 
 The only surprising thing to me is that there remain 
 any who believe." 
 
 ''Mr. Stewart, that is strange talk for a minister," 
 Bill Lakeman said. 
 
 "The fact that it is strange," Alfred answered with 
 feeling, ''does not make it any the less true. Look at 
 it yourself for a moment. Go to any minister of your 
 town and ask him what he believes regarding the fu- 
 ture state. They will agree this far: they all believe 
 in heaven and hell, a place of reward and a place of 
 punishment. They tell us the good people • go to 
 heaven, the bad to hell, a never-ending punishment. 
 'But,' says our thinking man or woman, 'humanity 
 cannot be divided into just two classes.' You know 
 the statement : ' There is so much bad in the best of us 
 and so much good in the worst of us,' etc. That is 
 true. We are such a strange mixture of good and evil 
 that no honest person will lay claim to being either. 
 Look around you in the world. For every good man, 
 I mean a really good man, and for every bad man, there 
 are hundreds who could be called neither. Between 
 these two extremes will be found every phase of human 
 
THOSE WHO "SIT IN DARKNESS" 51 
 
 character, no two having exactly the same mixture of 
 good and evil. Where would the dividing line come? 
 What amount of the mixture of evil would God allow 
 to enter heaven and what amount of good goes into 
 hell? 
 
 ''Our doctors of divinity are ready with the answer: 
 They who believe in Christ may enter heaven ; they who 
 believe not must enter hell; and we are left to believe 
 that the murderer who, before he goes to the gallows, 
 accepted Christ, is among the fortunate ones who stand 
 before the throne of God and sing his praises through- 
 out eternity, while his poor victim w'hose life he took 
 without one moment's notice and who had no such 
 opportunity must spend eternity in hell." 
 
 As Alfred paused, Bill Lakeman spoke, his voice hard 
 and bitter. ''All that being true, can you see any rea- 
 son why we should not be infidels?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered emphatically. "I see one 
 all-important reason why you should not." 
 
 "And that is what, may I ask?" 
 
 "Simply because it is not true." 
 
 Silence followed. With unseeing eyes they watched 
 the sun slip behind the leafy screen of the trees as eve- 
 ning settled over the valley. 
 
 Bill Lakeman faced the young man suddenly. 
 
 "Mr. Stewart," he said, "don't you believe the 
 Bible?" 
 
 "Indeed I do," Alfred answered. 
 "I quite agree in all you have said regarding the 
 religious world, ' ' Mr. Lakeman continued, ' ' but cannot 
 quite understand your position. You left the impres- 
 
52 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 sion that the divines were wrong in their answer re- 
 garding who should be saved, and gave us to under- 
 stand that you are not in sympathy with the thought 
 that only those who believe in Christ are to be saved. 
 Does not the Bible which you have just professed to 
 believe say, ^He that believeth and is baptized shall be 
 saved, and he that believeth not shall be damned'?" 
 
 *'Yes," Alfred answered, ''but the same Bible also 
 says every knee shall bow and every tongue shall con- 
 fess Him." 
 
 Bill Lakeman watched the first shadows of evening 
 playing in the depth of the grove as he thoughtfully 
 pondered the possibilities of the quotation Alfred had 
 just used. 
 
 ''I suppose," he said at last, ''that you believe that 
 verse proves that all will be saved. I have investigated 
 that side of the question, also, Mr. Stewart, and am 
 sorry to say that it cannot be substantiated." Disap- 
 pointment was evident in his voice as he spoke. Per- 
 haps unconsciously he had hoped his own position 
 would be disproved. Now a certain hopeless expression 
 settled on his face, and something in his entire atti- 
 tude seemed to say, "It is of Jio use." 
 
 "You are right, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred answered, 
 ' ' that position cannot be substantiated. ' ' Then, seeing 
 the surprise on the faces of those to whom he spoke, 
 he continued: "Might it not be just possible that the 
 trouble lies farther back — .that we cannot reach a cor- 
 rect conclusion because our starting point was wrong? 
 We seem to be taking the starting position that all who 
 do not enter what we choose to term heaven, must of 
 
THOSE WHO "SIT IN DARKNESS" 53 
 
 necessity be sweltering in that furnace which in our 
 minds we call hell. Might not the trouble lie there? 
 Is it true that, regardless of all the varying characteris- 
 tics, regardless of the fact that no two persons contain 
 exactly the same amount of good, or develop to the 
 same degree of perfection, that there are just two places 
 of consignment? They are either ushered into heaven 
 to dwell in the presence of God and Christ or are to be 
 sent to hell, there to endure the pangs of never-ending 
 torture?'' 
 
 ''Just what do you mean?" Jennie asked breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 ''Christ said," Alfred answered, "in his Father's 
 house were many mansions, but he went to prepare a 
 place for his disciples, that where he was, there they 
 mig*ht be also. Now it is quite evident that the man- 
 sions mentioned there were not where Christ would be, 
 or were not where he intended his disciples to spend 
 their eternity. Yet they were mansions. Then think 
 again. Christ gives us this scene : It is the time of 
 judgment — Christ sitting on the throne with his holy 
 angels around him, passing judgment on the nations. 
 He has divided them into two divisions which he speaks 
 of as sheep and goats. Those representing the sheep 
 were gathered on the right hand; those representing 
 the goats, on the left. Turning to those on the right 
 hand whom he speaks of as righteous, he uses these 
 words: 'Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the 
 kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the 
 world.' " 
 
 "But, Mr, Stewart," Jennie interrupted, "do you 
 
54 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 not think that simply means they are to enter heaven?'' 
 ''In using the word 'simply' you narrow your ques- 
 tion, Miss Burnside," Alfred answered, "until I am 
 compelled to give a negative reply. That kingdom 
 would undoubtedl}^ represent heaven to them, but I 
 do not think it can be that heaven which is the dwell- 
 ing place of God and Christ. Paul said he knew a 
 man who had been caught up to the third heaven; now 
 which of the three heavens is that heaven to which 
 these blessed were sent I cannot say. This much seems 
 quite clear, however. It was not the place to which 
 Christ intended taking his disciples, for he said this 
 kingdom had been prepared from the foundation of the 
 world. While to his disciples he said, 'If I go to pre- 
 pare a place for you, I will come again, and receive 
 you unto myself, that where I am, there ye may be 
 also.' (John 14: 3.) He was speaking here just a short 
 time before his crucifixion ; the heaven for his disciples 
 had not yet been prepared. 
 
 "Again, in the judgment scene, when he had given 
 the blessed the reason for their reward, they were 
 astonished and did not seem to understand. He ex- 
 plained that in feeding, clothing, and helping his dis- 
 ciples (notice he speaks of his disciples as a class dis- 
 tinctly separate from themselves) they had helped him. 
 Their service had been unconscious service. Do you 
 think the disciples of Christ would not have known ? Do 
 you think they would show surprise when Christ gave 
 them a reward? No; they had looked forward and 
 expected a reward from the time they had entered his 
 service. It is quite evident to me that these were not 
 
THOSE WHO "SIT IN DARKNESS" 55 
 
 professed believers in Christ. Perhaps the false teach- 
 ings of the world had so confused them that they, too, 
 could not see the way. ' ' 
 
 Stanley Lakeman, who had listened intently while 
 Alfred was speaking, was pacing slowly up and down 
 the narrow path. This in itself was evidence of deep 
 thought. The expression of earnestness on his face as 
 he stopped suddenly and faced Alfred, made that young 
 man lift his heart in prayer that God would help him 
 lead this man to the light. 
 
 "Your thought is, if I understand you," Stanley 
 said, ''that there is a heaven prepared for those who 
 have done good in this life because it was good and 
 not because they were followers of Christ, separate and 
 distinct from that reward which will go to the Chris- 
 tian?" 
 
 "So that passage would seem to imply," Alfred an- 
 swered. "To put it in other words, we might call it 
 different degrees of reward. Paul seemed to have that 
 thought in mind when writing to the Corinthians (1 
 Corinthians 15:41). He said: 'There is one glory of 
 the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another 
 glory of the stars : for one star differeth from another 
 star in glory. ' In the next verse he adds, ' So also is the 
 resurrection of the dead.' In the twenty- third verse, 
 speaking of the resurrection of the dead, he uses this ex- 
 pression: 'Every man in his own order.' We read in 
 John's account of his wonderful vision on the Isle of 
 Patmos (Revelation 20:12) these words: 'And I saw 
 the dead, small and great' — that would seem to imply 
 all' — 'stand before God; and the books were opened: 
 
56 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 and another book was opened, which is the book of 
 life: and the dead were judged out of those things 
 which were written in the books, according to their 
 works.' The thirteenth verse repeats that assertion, 
 'And they were judged every man according to their 
 works.' 
 
 "Now it is evident that all men will not have done 
 the same amount of good ; hence if they are to be 
 judged 'according to their works' we see how it will 
 be necessary that there be many degrees of glory, as 
 Paul expresses it, 'for one star differeth from another 
 star in glory.' That would make it seem that the re- 
 wards of the next life would be as varied as the 
 heavens. Let us illustrate it in this manner. Suppose 
 you were the judge in one of our court rooms and two 
 cases were brought before you for trial. One was a 
 murderer, who for worldly gain had taken the life of 
 a fellow creature. The other a poor mother, sick and 
 out of work, who had stolen one loaf of bread to feed 
 hungry babies. You would try both cases and say, 'I 
 will judge them according to their works.' Then you 
 would proceed to pronounce a sentence of life impris- 
 onment on both. You would hardly bo consistent, 
 would you? Yet that is what the religious world 
 would have us believe Christ will do. No! no! Paul 
 understood better. He said, 'Every man in his own 
 order.'" 
 
 "Mr. Stewart," Stanley said, "I hope you are right; 
 I sincerely hope you are right." 
 
 "Yes," his father agreed, "that would lighten the 
 situation greatly. I can assure you I am no infidel by 
 
THOSE WHO "SIT IN DARKNESS" 57 
 
 choice. Several times I have thought I had reached 
 a solution of the question, only to find myself groping 
 in deeper darkness. What you have said to-night 
 makes me anxious to hear more. And, Mr. Stewart, I 
 think Jennie and Stanley will sanction what I am about 
 to say. This is a big question and an important one. 
 If you will do so, we would be glad to have you during 
 the evenings which are to follow, tell us as much as pos- 
 sible of your belief along these lines. If you should 
 enable us to see the way, you will have done us a far 
 greater service than we ever have or ever could do for 
 you.'' 
 
 Before Alfred could frame a reply, Jennie Burnside 
 arose from her chair and held out her hand to him. 
 ''Mr. Stewart," she said, ''if you were ever lost in 
 the dark and had despaired of ever finding the light 
 again, you can understand how much this means to 
 us. If you will give us the benefit of your enforced 
 ^visit with us, we shall be very glad. If you consent T 
 will come again to-morrow night, if I may." 
 
 "I shall be glad to tell you all I know of the plan 
 of salvation," he returned. "We might have a sort of 
 round table. Could you bring your Bibles?" Alfred 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," Stanley answered. "And, Jennie, if 
 this preacher gets too ' long-winded ' and keeps you out 
 late, I'll take Spider and ride home with you." 
 
 So it was arranged, and Alfred lifted his heart to 
 God in thanksgiving that thus the way was opened be- 
 fore him that the gospel might be presented to those 
 who "sit in darkness." 
 
CHAPTER 7 
 AN APPEAL FOR HELP 
 
 NO WORD was spoken between Bill Lakeman and 
 Alfred as they watched Stanley accompany Jen- 
 nie to the gate and assist her to mount. She sat 
 with the easy grace of one who is often in the saddle, 
 and as she rode away into the gathering gloom, the 
 movements of her lithe body blending perfectly with 
 that of her steed, made a very pleasing picture. 
 
 Stanley watched her disappear among the trees. **I 
 cannot see how it is possible," he said as he rejoined 
 Alfred and his father, "for a man like Marion Burnside 
 to be the father of a girl like elennie. I could not help 
 thinking, as I watched her, how unlike they are." 
 
 ''She is much like her mother," his father returned. 
 ''Mrs. Burnside was a very fine woman. We all felt 
 that she was wasted as the wife of Marion Burnside, 
 for financial success alone can never make a man. 
 Mrs. Burnside never seemed happy. I never suspected 
 that she was in any manner an unbeliever. She always 
 went to church with her husband, although now I re- 
 call having never heard of her becoming a church mem- 
 ber. We never know. We never know." 
 
 The quiet of evening seemed to settle over the three 
 as they still stood beneath the honeysuckle. Far down 
 the hill, from among the willows which fringed the 
 creek, a firefly darted out, lighting up the evening like a 
 
AN APPEAL FOR HELP 59 
 
 tiny meteor gliding by; then all was darkness again. 
 Somewhere near by a cricket sent out his shrill call on 
 the evening air and was answered by a lone frog in a 
 far-away swamp. These, however, were only the begin- 
 ning. Other crickets joined their voices, and, as if 
 awakened by the call of their mates, other inhabitants 
 of the shadowed swamp took up the chorus until the 
 valley was a-ring with the sounds of night. From over 
 in the meadow beyond the barn came the wailing 
 notes of the whippoorwill as he reiterated over and 
 over his command. 
 
 Silently, for the spell of evening was on them, Bill 
 Lakeman led the way into the house and lighted the 
 lamp. Alfred dropped into a chair, with his crutch 
 lying idly on his arm. Stanley walked to the window 
 and gazed at the dim outlines of the trees of the grove. 
 Bill Lakeman stood regarding intently but not seeing 
 the lamp he had just lighted. 
 
 ''Are you Doctor Lakeman?" 
 
 As. Stanley turned quickly, his eyes fell on a boy 
 of some six or eight summers, standing in the doorway. 
 In the dim light he made a strange picture. The cloth- 
 ing which covered, not adorned, the frail body had 
 evidently been made from cloth which had served and 
 served well some previous purpose. Nor was this all : 
 Its life in its present condition had been lengthened and 
 relengthened by the addition of many a patch. In some 
 instances patch placed upon patch revealed the fact 
 that the patching process had begun long ago, nor was 
 it yet at an end. However, it was not the patched 
 clothing which made the picture. Perhaps it was the 
 
60 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 air with which that clothing was worn, or it might 
 have been the unconscious grace with which the bat- 
 tered felt hat, many sizes too large, had been removed 
 and was now held gracefully between two small brown 
 hands. It may have been all this, yet I think it was 
 more the proud poise of the small curly head, the anx- 
 ious light in the great dark eyes. 
 
 Stanley came forward to meet him and led him more 
 directly into the circle of light. In the soft, almost 
 affectionate tone he always used with children, he said : 
 
 ''I am Doctor Lakeman, my boy. What can I do for 
 you?" 
 
 ''My mother would like for you to come at once. 
 Baby Mary is very sick. Mother says, 'Please hurry.' " 
 
 The little voice was subdued, almost to a whisper, 
 by the near proximity of tears. Stanley threw an arm 
 across his shoulder and drew him gently to his side. 
 "Where does your mother live, sonny? Which is the 
 quickest waj^ to go?" 
 
 "We live down on the levee," the child returned. 
 "It's quickest to go down past the Smith place on the 
 hig*hway. It's farther down through town." 
 
 "All right. Suppose you wait here for me. Perhaps 
 I'll need you to show me the way. Do you think you 
 could ride with me on a horse?" 
 
 The child's eyes gladdened. One of the dreams of 
 his life had been to some day ride a beautiful horse 
 like he had seen back on grandfather's farm ever and 
 ever so long ago. 
 
 Stanley was gone only a moment. Bill Lakeman had 
 disappeared as soon as the child's appeal had been 
 
AN APPEAL FOR HELP 61 
 
 given, and by the time Stanley emerged, medicine case 
 in hand, his father was leading Spider, saddled and 
 bridled, to the stoop. 
 
 "Thank you, father. That was a big help," his son 
 said as he threw himself into the saddle and held out 
 his hand to the boy. His father had been too quick for 
 him. He had lifted the boy into his place almost as 
 soon as Stanley had settled himself. The dumb appeal 
 in the child's eyes had stirred Bill Lakeman deeply. 
 
 ''Do your best, boy; do your best," he said to Stan- 
 ley a^ he started off. Stanley only nodded his reply. 
 But Bill Lakeman knew that his son's fighting spirit 
 had been aroused and that he would fight with his 
 might. Stanley also knew that in spirit his father 
 would be fighting with him and he felt that he must 
 win.^ Stanley had received many such an eleventh-hour 
 call, and he instinctively knew that in this case he had 
 been called almost, if not quite, too late. The anxiety 
 and appeal in the child's eyes, the almost hopeless tone 
 in his voice had conveyed his message well. Stanley 
 held the boy tightly and gave the pony free rein, and 
 she ran as she had run once before that day, only now 
 there was no spirit of frolic in her running. Spider 
 knew her master— knew that now he depended on her 
 and that the need was very great. 
 
CHAPTER 8 
 A BATTLE WITH DEATH 
 
 LEESBURG is not all beautiful; not all homelike; 
 not all comfortable; not all peaceful. Scarcely 
 ten blocks removed from the elegant home of 
 Squire Parsons one might enter that portion of the 
 city known as the levee; so near, yet so far removed 
 from the peace and quiet of that Leesburg which con- 
 sidered itself respectable ; for to live on the levee was 
 to be an outcast from all that was respectable, as Lees- 
 burg viewed respectability. 
 
 Here, grouped around Mike Farrell's saloon, were 
 the dwellings of the poor and the dissolute. Shanties 
 they were where sickly, sad-faced women, broken in 
 body and spirit, and dirty, quarrelsome children en- 
 dured day after day of life as it came, not daring to 
 look into the future with its hopeless aspect, having no 
 ambitions, no dreams, where smiles never came and 
 where hearts were hardened beyond tears. Even the 
 grasses and trees which grew prolifically in other parts 
 of the city seemed smitten by the spirit of the place, 
 and after battling fitfully for life, gave up the struggle 
 as hopeless, and died. 
 
 Leaving Mike Farrell's place and going north along 
 the levee, up past the place where the highway skirted 
 the northern end of Strong Lake and crossed the 
 bridge, above the fallen sycamore tree which dipped its 
 
A BATTLE WITH DEATH 63 
 
 topmost branches in the waters of Turkey Creek, just 
 before the waters of that little stream lost themselves 
 with a last contented murmur in the waters of the lake, 
 on around the bend in the road, a trail suddenly leaves 
 the highway and loses itself among the trees. Perhaps 
 one hundred yards from this trail a tiny cabin nestled, 
 protected by the foliage of a great oak tree which grew 
 by its side. This cabin was in some respects not un- 
 like its neighbors on the other side of the levee. It 
 needed no keen observer to tell that poverty had here 
 a permanent abode. However, it was also evident that 
 there was a vast difference in the poverty which dwelt 
 here and that which had its dwelling among the shacks 
 around Mike Farrell's saloon. For here, poverty dwelt 
 alone. Its boon companion, squalor, had never been 
 permitted to enter. 
 
 There were no shades to the windows. They were 
 only protected from within by clean, white muslin cur- 
 tains, while their outer protection was tiny vines of 
 morning-glory, bravely climbing the white twine 
 strings placed by careful hands to assist them in their 
 upward aspirations. 
 
 The cabin consisted tof three small, unfinished rooms. 
 The smallest of the three served as a combined kitchen 
 and dining room. Prom this one ascended two steps 
 and entered the largest room in the house. There were 
 no carpets on the floors, and the entire room was bare 
 of ornamentation as it was also practically bare of 
 furniture. A box, around which curtains were hung 
 and on which a small oil lamp was burning, sat in one 
 comer. Two chairs, two beds, and a mantel on which 
 
64 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 the remains of a broken mirror had been placed, made 
 up the balance of the furnishings of the room. Even 
 the scrupulous cleanliness of the place could not hide its 
 pitiful poverty. One thing only seemed to suggest that 
 anything but poverty had ever been the lot of those 
 who called this home: one of the chairs was a heavy 
 oak rocker, not of elaborate design ; it did not betoken 
 wealth, yet seemed to belong to that condition of 
 comfort which had never known the extremes of either 
 wealth or poverty. It seemed strangely out of place 
 among the other rude, home-made furniture. 
 
 On one of the beds, lying so quietly as to have the 
 appearance of death, was a child. A mass of brown, 
 curly hair lay in confusion on the pillow, where it had 
 been brushed back from a face from which every par- 
 ticle of color had fled. The eyes were closed and only 
 the gentle rising and falling of the muslin covering 
 gave evidence that life had not fled. There was only 
 one other occupant in the room. A woman knelt be- 
 side the bed on which lay the silent form of the child, 
 with her face buried in her hands, her lips moving as if 
 in prayer. 
 
 *' Mother's here, baby Mary, mother's here. Yes — '" 
 the soft mother voice trailed off into silence. The lit- 
 tle one had stirred uneasily and then lay again in the 
 same immovable stupor. 
 
 Oh, would he never come? Would he never come? 
 Her eyes filled with agony, the mother watched the 
 clock on the mantel. How slowly the minutes dragged, 
 and yet every tick, tick of the clock fell on the moth- 
 er's heart like the dread footsteps of approaching 
 
A BATTLE WITH DEATH 65 
 
 death. The woman arose, walked to the window, and 
 peered out into the darkness. Seeing nothing, she re- 
 turned once more to the bedside of the child and fell 
 on her knees, this time voicing the prayer of her heart. 
 ''0 Gtod," she pleaded, ''don't let baby die before 
 the doctor gets here. Guide Joey, dear God. Guide 
 Joey." 
 
 Ah, when the heart is full; 
 
 When bitter thoughts come 
 
 Crowding thickly up for utterance . . . 
 
 How much the bursting heart 
 
 May pour itself in prayer. 
 
 The mother prayed on. 
 
 It is possible that had one questioned her closely 
 under more favorable circumstances, on the subject of 
 prayer, she would have answered, as would many an- 
 other of that great throng who believe so ardently in 
 prayer, but who consider the day of revelation past, 
 and who expect no answer from God except that he 
 should ''speak peace to the heart" or "guide the 
 mind": 
 
 "Oh, we can't expect miracles now. That is all in 
 the past." 
 
 However that may be, to-night, in the anguish of 
 her heart, the creeds of the day were forgotten and she 
 only realized herself as an afflicted child voicing her 
 greatest need to a loving parent. She realized all too 
 plainly the near approach of death unless help came. 
 She could only make the appeal: "Don't let baby 
 Mary die." 
 
 i^: 
 
66 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Who shall say that the ear of love did not hear? Or 
 that the Omnipotent arm was shortened? We only 
 know that when a few minutes later Stanley entered 
 with his little guide, he found the mother still praying 
 by the side of her sleeping child. So earnest was her 
 prayer that she did not know when Joey pushed open 
 the door and the tall figure of the young doctor en- 
 tered. 
 
 ''Mamma, mamma," the boy cried, ''here's the doc- 
 tor. See, I found him, mamma!" 
 
 "Thank heaven." 
 
 As the woman arose and extended her hand to Stan- 
 ley, he could scarcely suppress an exclamation of sur- 
 prise. His profession had brought him many times in 
 touch with those living on the levee and he knew most 
 of them by sight. He felt that he certainly knew them 
 as a class. His practiced eye told him that here was 
 one far removed in the spirit of things from the en- 
 vironment which surrounded her. The face of the 
 woman bespoke refinement. Her soft dark hair fell in 
 graceful waves, back from a forehead smooth and 
 white. Great dark eyes gazed at him appealingly 
 from under finely arched brows. The lips were full 
 and red, parting over a set of even white teeth. Stan- 
 ley saw all this and more: saw the hunted look of 
 the mother whose baby is about to be taken from her, 
 and realized that those deep dark eyes with their agony 
 of appeal were saying to him, "You are my only -hope." 
 She was young, it seemed to Stanley as he gazed at her ; 
 far too young for the lines of care already showing on 
 her face. It was a beautiful face, beautiful with a 
 
A BATTLE WITH DEATH 67 
 
 certain spiritual beauty which defied description. Her 
 garments, like those of her son, showed evidence of re- 
 peated mendings, yet were worn with a certain dignity 
 and grace, an unconsciousness of manner which added 
 much to the pleasing personality of the woman. 
 
 ''You are Doctor Lakeman, I believe?" she asked in 
 tones soft and musical. "I can never tell you how glad 
 I am to have you come." 
 
 "And I am glad to be here, if I can be of service to 
 you," he returned. "Your son has told me your name, 
 Mrs. Bennett, so I feel that we are already acquainted.'' 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Bennett answered, laying her hand af- 
 fectionately on the boy's head. "I had no one else 
 to intrust with my message. I am afraid I have a 
 very sick baby," she continued, moving nearer the bed. 
 ' ' She has been sick for several days, but not until this 
 afternoon did I realize how very sick she was. I am 
 so glad you came, doctor; I was almost afraid I had 
 sent too late." 
 
 Stanley moved nearer the bed and gazed with pro- 
 fessional eyes at the unconscious child. A moment 
 later, w^hen he raised his eyes once more to the face of 
 the woman beside him, doubt was written very plainly 
 on his face. 
 
 "I wish you had sent for me sooner," he said. 
 
 "I didn't dare send," she answered, almost in a 
 whisper, "until I knew my baby's life depended on it. 
 I could see no way to pay for the service." 
 
 "I am sorry you felt that way," he returned 
 earnestly. "I would have been glad to come. How- 
 
68 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ever, now that I am here, we will start the fight at 
 once^ will we not?" 
 
 The smiles came quickly to the face of the mother. 
 His confident tone gave her hope and made her feel that 
 she was not fighting alone. 
 
 Stanley laid aside the light coverlet and carefully ex- 
 amined the sick child. 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Bennett, two glasses half filled with wa 
 ter, please. There," as Mrs. Bennett returned. "Now 
 I think we are ready." 
 
 And so began the long vigil at the bedside of the 
 stricken child. Hours came and went, but the young 
 doctor would not leave his post. Had Stanley been a 
 praying man, he would have prayed. As it was, he 
 knew of no strength on which to lean but his own, and 
 in this hour it seemed fearfully deficient. After a 
 while he induced the young mother to lie down while 
 he battled on. 
 
 "We will need your strength to-morrow," he said, 
 when she hesitated. 
 
 Once during the night, while the mother slept fit- 
 fully, Stanley entered the kitchen to procure a neces- 
 sary mixing vessel and made the discovery that the 
 larder was empty. He knew that the little mother and 
 Joey had had no supper that night. Why, oh, why, he 
 pondered, was there so much inequality in the world? 
 Why should this little mother be denied the necessi- 
 ties of life for herself and children when many of 
 the women he knew squandered fabulous amounts on 
 frivolities. Stanley also knew that to the sensitive na- 
 ture of the mistress of this destitute home charity 
 
A BATTLE WITH DEATH 69 
 
 would be felt to be degrading. He quietly slipped one 
 silver dollar into a dish in a cupboard and once more 
 turned his attention to the child. 
 
 By this time exhaustion had so far deepened the 
 sleep of the poor tired mother that she did not hear the 
 patter of bare feet on the floor of the cabin, nor see the 
 anxiety in the eyes of little Joey as he stole quietly 
 to the doctor's side. 
 
 ''You should be in bed and asleep, sonny," Stanley 
 said. 
 
 But the child was not to be put off. 
 
 ''Doctor, why don't my papa come home? Don't he 
 know baby Mary is sick? Mamma cried and cried to- 
 night. Why don't he come?" 
 
 "Perhaps he will come in the morning. Perhaps he 
 couldn't get home last night," Stanley said soothingly. 
 
 "Well, will his eyes look like this?" The child's 
 eyes were fixed in a glassy stare. "And will mamma 
 be afraid? And won't there be any money to buy 
 bread?" 
 
 Stanley's arm stole around the boy. The curly head 
 was pulled over on his shoulder. 
 
 "Those questions are entirely too big for a little 
 head like yours to worry over," he said. "Yes; I 
 think there will be money to buy bread. Now go to 
 sleep and don't worry any more about it to-night. I 
 think it will be all right." 
 
 The little lad crept back to his bed reassured. Those 
 small childish shoulders, already carrying entirely too 
 much of this world's burden, felt that in some manner 
 the load had been lifted; that the dark-haired doctor 
 
70 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 would see that it all came out ri^ht. With mind once 
 more at rest he fell asleep, but Stanley felt that the 
 mystery of. the wom^n was explained ; knew, now, why 
 and by what means she had been dragged from her 
 rightful station to spend her days in hopeless poverty. 
 
 For the next hour Stanley worked on unmolested. 
 Once he was rewarded by seeming consciousness on the 
 part of the child, but it was only for a moment. The 
 old stupor returned. Still he fought on doggedly. 
 
 ''I must win. I must!" he murmured. In his mind 
 he could still see the trust in the mother's great dark 
 eyes, and in fancy could seem to see that look give way 
 to fear and be shortly followed by despair. The task 
 seemed hopeless. His knowledge and experience told 
 him that effort on his part was useless, that it was 
 only a matter of hours until death should come, and he 
 knew that when life left, the greatest comfort and 
 source of strength would be taken from the life of 
 the woman. 
 
 Bearing his burden of responsibility, heavier because 
 he knew of no God on whom to rely, he walked slowly 
 the length of the room and leaned heavily against the 
 mantel. It was quite evident that he was battling in 
 his own mind over his course of procedure. He seemed 
 to have reached no definite conclusion when a moment 
 later he again returned to the child and lifted the little 
 hand from its resting place on the coverlet. Uncon- 
 sciously his trained fingers sought the pulse and his 
 face whitened perceptibly. Whatever he had learned, 
 it was evidently not encouraging. 
 
 *'I had just as well do it," he whispered. ''There's 
 no other chance." 
 
A BATTLE WITH DEATH 71 
 
 Swiftly his hands flew over the little vials in his 
 case. Without hesitation he seized one of them, and as 
 swiftly lifted a tiny instrument from another section. 
 It was done in a moment. The child scarcely moved 
 when the injection was made, and Stanley stepped back 
 to watch for results. He knew that in fifteen minutes 
 he would call the mother to see her dying child, or 
 that he would give her hope. His eyes sought the 
 clock on the mantel and then once more returned to 
 the face of the child from which they did not wander 
 again as the moments, not slowly now, glided by. Five 
 minutes passed. No change. He had expected none. 
 Ten minutes. Stanley leaned forward that he might 
 not fail to see the slightest change. Eleven. He moved 
 the lamp until its rays fell directly on the child's face. 
 Twelve. He lifted the hand once more and let his 
 fingers lie on the pulse. The heart had almost stopped 
 beating. Thirteen. The muscles of his own face had 
 become rigid, and in his eyes hopelessness seemed bat- 
 tling for a place. 
 
 ''Oh, if it should fail!" he muttered. Fourteen. 
 Stanley leaned forward suddenly, a gleam of hope re- 
 lieving the rigidness of his expression. It had only 
 been the tiniest flutter of the pulse, yet it had been the 
 sign for which he had waited. Slowly that minute 
 passed, but with its passing hope had grown into assur- 
 ance. Stanley leaned back in his chair, a gleam of 
 triumph in his eyes. 
 
 ''Thank God!" he ejaculated under his breath, but 
 did not know what he said. 
 
CHAPTER 9 
 A DOUBLE BURDEN BORNE ALONE 
 
 STANLEY watched carefully but no longer anx- 
 iously as one by one other evidences of his tri- 
 umph came to him. Then he stepped across the 
 room and laid his hand on the shoulder of the sleeping 
 mother. She sprang up quickly, fear written upon 
 every line of her face. When she saw the look in his 
 eyes her own gladdened questioningly. 
 
 *'Yes/' he answered her unspoken question, ''your 
 child will live." , 
 
 *'0h!" she murmured, her. voice breaking in a sob. 
 ''How can I ever thank you for what you have done. 
 I can only hop-e that the God of heaven may bring to 
 you his choicest blessings. Oh, baby, baby! Mother 
 is so glad; so glad." 
 
 There was no keeping them back. The tears would 
 come. She sank once more on her knees by the side of 
 the bed and sobbed out her relief. Stanley, who was 
 contending with a strange lump in his throat, walked 
 to the window, and lifting the white muslin curtain, 
 gazed out into the night. What was that lying on the 
 walk? Surely he saw the thing move. Then he knew. 
 It was a man — a drunken man who had fallen and was 
 trying vainly to regain his feet. Ah ! he had succeeded, 
 and staggering forward one or two steps, fell heavily 
 against the door of the cabin. 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
A DOUBLE BURDEN 73 
 
 Stanley turned as the smothered cry of fear fell on 
 his ears. Mrs. Bennett was standing in the center of 
 the floor, wide-eyed and frightened. 
 
 * ' Oh ! " she said. ' ' It 's John ! What shall we do ?' ' 
 
 '^I think from the looks of things we had better get 
 him into the house and into bed," Stanley said. "Shall 
 I open the door?" 
 
 ''Of course," she said. ''I think I had forgotten 
 you were here. You can never know what it means, 
 this watching for him to come home and knowing he 
 will come like that. Sometimes I think I can never 
 live through it. ' ' 
 
 ''Are you in danger when he is like that? Is he ever 
 violent?" Stanley asked. 
 
 "Not often," she returned. But Stanley knew from 
 the hesitation with which she replied that her burden 
 of dread was greater that she had cared to tell him. 
 
 He pulled the door open carefully, and into the room 
 tumbled what might have been a man. Stanley wa^ 
 only conscious that a pair of bleared eyes glared out at 
 him from puffy, swollen cheeks. A stiff hat was mashed 
 down on his head almost to his ears. His coat was torn 
 and dirty. His shoes were almost off his feet. A feel- 
 ing of repulsion swept over Stanley as he realized that 
 this man was the husband of the woman at his side 
 and the father of little Joey. Oh, the awful inconsist- 
 encies of this world"! 
 
 The man, or rather animal, fo"r he had sunken to that 
 level, did not attempt to rise, but continued to glare at 
 Stanley. He turned his eyes to his wife accusiiigly and 
 brought them once more to Stanley's face. That young 
 
74 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 man felt his blood boil and an insane desire to kick 
 the man at his feet. 
 
 ''What are you doing in my house?" the wretch 
 demanded of Stanley. 
 
 *'0h, John!" the reproach in the woman's voice was 
 painful. ''It's the doctor who came to see baby Mary. 
 Baby Mary is awfully sick. The doctor has been with 
 us all night." 
 
 "B'g pardon, sir," John Bennett said thickly, as he 
 tried in vain to regain his feet. "N-no offense meant. 
 0-only wanted to know." 
 
 Stanley could scarcely understand the words, the 
 tongue which tried to utter them being almost para- 
 lyzed with the effect of liquor. Tie stooped and as- 
 sisted the man to stand, by no means an easy task. 
 John Bennett tried to continue the conversation. 
 
 "Do all y' can for the baby. Think I'll go to bed 
 m'self." 
 
 But Stanley set him down in a chair near by, hand- 
 ling him in much the manner that a schoolmaster 
 would a naughty boy. 
 
 "I think I had better fix you up a bit," he said, as 
 he mixed a glass of medicine and held it to the drunken 
 man's lips. It was swallowed greedily, and as Stanley 
 turned to set aside the glass he had used, John Bennett 
 arose and threw himself on the bed. Mrs. Bennett 
 gasped as the soiled clothing came in contact with the 
 clean white coverlet. 
 
 "I had intended to undress him," Stanley said, as 
 he regarded the wretch before him, "but perhaps it is 
 
A DOUBLE BURDEN 75 
 
 just as well. He will sleep for hours and will be sober 
 when he does awake." 
 
 The woman did not answer. She leaned against the 
 window, gazing blindly into the darkness. She was 
 not crying, yet great, dry sobs shook her frame. Deli- 
 cate, almost fragile she was, yet the very weight of 
 the world seemed to lie on those shapely shoulders. 
 Stanley's heart ached for her. All he could do to help 
 seemed so unavailing. He drew her from the window 
 and with gentle touch made her comfortable in the 
 chair so lately occupied by her husband, and also held 
 a soothing potion to her lips. Poor tired nerves, trem- 
 bling with the weight of another's sin! 
 
 ''Drink this, please, Mrs. Bennett," he begged. ''It 
 will do you good, I'm sure." 
 
 She tried to swallow the contents of the cup obedi- 
 ently, but the anguish of her heart seemed to reflect 
 in the muscles of her throat and she almost choked. 
 However, a moment later a pair of dark eyes met his 
 own bravely. 
 
 "We must all bear our burdens, must we not?" she 
 asked, smiling. 
 
 Stanley knew that smile, knew it ti be the bravest 
 thing in all the world. He could almost see the slight 
 shoulders square themselves to carry their enormous 
 burden, and knew that inasmuch as it were possible, 
 that burden would be carried alone. Without once 
 more referring to the drunkard w^ho slept so near them, 
 already filling the room with the stench of his foul 
 breathing, she turned to the bed where the sick child 
 lay. 
 
76 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 '*I can see she has improved/* she said, laying her 
 hand lovingly on the mass of brown curls. ''Oh, I 
 prayed that the Lord would let her live until you 
 came. I just felt that if she were alive when you 
 came you would be able to save her." 
 
 Stanley's eyes rested on the woman beside him ques- 
 tioningly. The words, ''I prayed that the Lord would 
 let her live until you came," seemed burned into his 
 brain. Everywhere, he reflected, he seemed to be con- 
 fronted with one thought — the existence of God and his 
 interest in the everyday affairs of life. No, it could 
 not be possible. Even if such a great powerful being 
 did exist among all the atoms of life, could the cries 
 and sorrows of one like the little mistress of this home, 
 or the unconscious child with whom he had been work- 
 ing, be considered of sufficient importance to warrant 
 the answering of such a prayer? Surely not. If such 
 a being did exist, he would be too great to notice the 
 little things of life. Yet — ^the face of Alfred Stewart 
 suddenly came before him and he seemed again to hear 
 the words: "Don't worry about it. Some day that 
 question will settle itself and you will know there is a 
 God." In his heart he wished the time had come, 
 wished the question were settled. 
 
 ''Don't you think, doctor," Mrs. Bennett said, "that 
 you could leave instructions with me now, and get 
 some rest? You have had a trying night." 
 
 So it was arranged. Stanley paused in the doorway 
 to give her some final instructions. 
 
 "You will need to watch her very, very closely," he 
 said. "Do not leave her bedside unless it is absolutely 
 
A DOUBLE BURDEN 77 
 
 necessary. 1 will have your breakfast sent in. It might 
 be dangerous for you to leave her to prepare the meal 
 yourself." 
 
 This was said in such a matter-of-fact tone that no 
 suspicions were raised in the mind of the woman. She 
 did not guess that he knew that a preparation of the 
 meal would be impossible. 
 
 '^ Thank you, doctor," was all she said, and he was 
 gone, leaving her alone once more with the problems 
 of her life. 
 
 She arose again and walked to the window, looking 
 out into the shadows which had begun to lighten with 
 the first faint promise of approaching day. She could 
 see just the dim outlines of the trees which fringed the 
 lake. The peace and quiet of the night lay like a bene- 
 diction over the forest. From afar came the call of 
 some lord of the barnyard, announcing to his feathered 
 companions that the day was near at hand. From 
 farther still, mellowed by the distance, his call was 
 answered by another of his kind. Then all was still. 
 The world seemed at rest, and something of the peace 
 of it seemed to steal into the mother's heart, as she 
 took up once more her vigil at the bedside of her child. 
 Did she feel that as the light of a new day chased away 
 the shadows of a deep, dark night, so would a new sun 
 arise in her own life to dispel the shadows of the great 
 black night through which she had scarcely been able 
 to live? I do not think so. Yet something of the as- 
 surance with which night yields to the coming day gave 
 her an indescribable comfort, a feeling that although 
 the brightness of our lives may at times be obscured, 
 
78 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 life cannot be all night. Sunshine and Shadow must 
 combine, that life and the forming of character may 
 be whole and complete, wanting nothing. 
 
CHAPTER 10 
 STANLEY SENDS IN A BREAKFAST 
 
 STANLEY did not ride home immediately upon leav- 
 ing the Bennett house, with its burden of debauch- 
 ery and its threat of death. The stench of whisky- 
 laden breath, combined with the odor of fever, was in 
 his nostrils. Spider picked her way cautiously among 
 the trees to the highway where Stanley headed for the 
 open country. It was still quite dark, but the early 
 morning air seemed charged with vitality, and the man 
 inhaled it deeply and gratefully. He felt that he would 
 like to ride — ride far and forget — forget the death 
 which invaded that home, not the physical death with 
 which he had battled, but the greater living death which 
 seemed more terrible because he could not fight it. 
 
 He galloped on to where the road touched the edge 
 of the lake, then, turning at right angles, headed to- 
 ward the hills. He had no definite goal in view, only 
 a desire to once more adjust himself mentally to the 
 world. 
 
 Day was near at hand. The sky in the east had taken 
 on a lighter hue and the trees of the forest were plainly 
 visible. Stanley could hear the chirp of the birds 
 among the branches as they bestirred themselves into 
 action. But his thoughts were not with these. The 
 picture of the lonely little mother in the scantily fur- 
 nished cabin oppressed him. Had she been a widow 
 
80 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 with even the memory of a faithful husband to help 
 her, it would not have seemed so bad. But this — this 
 worse than death, which in his mind seemed to stretch 
 on throughout all the years before her and from which 
 there seemed no relief ! He could see again the slight, 
 almost girlish shoulders square themselves to carry 
 their burden, and he knew they would never shirk; 
 knew that she would grow old, old before her time, ana 
 finally when physically she was able to bear no more, 
 she would die, and death would be a blessing. Death — 
 what then? In his own mind he had always said ob- 
 livion. Mechanically he turned his horse's head once 
 more, following a less used but well-defined road lead- 
 ing directly into the forest. Oblivion — well, oblivion 
 would be better than such a life, but somehow it did 
 not seem satisfactory. How dreadful it is, he thought, 
 that if this life is all, it should be so wasted. 
 
 By this time Stanley had passed under the first arch 
 of the trees and found himself in the denser part of the 
 forest. The trees lining the narrow roadway reached 
 forth friendly branches to each other, forming a per- 
 fect canopy of leaves above him. From among the 
 shadows on each side he could catch glimpses of moss- 
 beds from which tiny flowers peeped cautiously. The 
 cool fragrance of growing things filled the atmosphere 
 with their own vitality, and Spider lifting her head in 
 appreciation, quickened her pace. 
 
 Contradicting his line of thought, Stanley found 
 himself repeating the words of Prentice: ''It cannot 
 be that our life is a mere bubble cast up by eternity 
 to float a moment on its waves and then sink into 
 
STANLEY SENDS IN A BREAKFAST 81 
 
 nothingness. Else why is it that the glorious aspira- 
 tions which leap like angels from the temples of our 
 hearts are forever unsatisfied?" 
 
 ''He is right about the unsatisfactory part," Stanley 
 thought. "Life at its best is just about an even mix- 
 ture of sorrow and happiness, and at its worst — 
 Whew!" From sudden energy of thought Stanley cut 
 the head from a wayside flower with his riding whip : a 
 shower of dewdrops was the result. ' ' Well, if this life 
 is all, it's hell for some people sure, and it doesn't seem 
 fair, either, when it's not their fault. Now if, as they 
 try to tell us in church, there could be another life 
 where it could all be fixed up, it would be fine. It 
 does sound like a fairy tale, but it would be fine." 
 
 Reaching up, Stanley pulled a leaf from the branch 
 of a tree which stretched out over his head. ''Of 
 course," he thought, "religion is founded on the 
 theory that there is a spirit in man which is severed 
 from the body at death, but which must live through- 
 out eternity." 
 
 Stanley had never believed that theory, at least had 
 never convinced himself of its truthfulness. "It's a 
 fine theory," he continued in thought, "but I can't 
 make it work out. What do you think about it. Spider? 
 If a man has a spirit, why haven't you? Why is it 
 reasonable to believe that I have a spirit and that you 
 haven't? You have as much life as I have. I wish I 
 knew. I certainly wish I knew." 
 
 Over Stanley's face there passed the sudden wistful 
 look which always came when he thought on this sub- 
 ject. In his mind he could hear once more Alfred 
 
82 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Stewart's voice as he said: ''In my Father's house are 
 many mansions." What a comfort it would be to be- 
 lieve. What a comfort! 
 
 Spider, cantering easily among the trees, suddenly 
 emerged from the forest where the road dipped and 
 crossed Turkey Creek, just below the barn at Stanley's 
 home. She stepped daintily to the edge and lowered 
 her head to drink of its waters before she attempted 
 to cross the ford. Stanley patted her neck affection- 
 ately as he leaned forward to loosen her rein. 
 
 The night had slipped away. The sun was up when 
 he alighted wearily from his horse in the barnyard. 
 Bill Lakeman had seen him coming and came to meet 
 him with concern written plainly upon every feature 
 of his kindly face. He did not need to ask the question. 
 His son knew what he wanted to know. 
 
 "I can't say, yet, father. The child is dreadfully ill, 
 but I think the greatest danger is past." 
 
 When Spider was made comfortable in her stall 
 Stanley walked beside his father to the house. His 
 shoulders, usually carried erect, stooped slightly with 
 the weight of the burden of others. 
 
 ''Well, boy," Bill Lakeman said soothingly, "you 
 have done your best, so don't worry. Life is short at 
 best, and as it passes it teaches us some things. Among 
 the things I have tried to learn is to do what is right 
 so far as I am concerned and not to worry over the 
 things which are too big for me." 
 
 "Yes, I know, father," his son returned, "but that 
 is not the worst of this case. If it were only a case of 
 the sickness of the child, it would be like many other 
 
STANLEY SENDS IN A BREAKFAST 83 
 
 such cases which we must expect to handle." Then he 
 told his father of the brave little mother, of his midnight 
 conversation with little Joey, the homecoming of the 
 brute of a husband, the young wife's fear, and later 
 her splendid courage ; of how he had found that there 
 was nothing to eat in the house. 
 
 Bill Lakeman listened attentively, sympathetically, 
 as the narrative continued. "It's a burning shame," 
 he said; ''a burning shame. But you have done your 
 part, boy, and good will come of it. Of course there 
 is more to do yet, but you have done all you could do 
 for the present. Remember this : you are not respon- 
 sible for the evil there is in the world. Do all you can 
 to eliminate it; beyond that don't worry. Now have 
 Sophronia give you something to eat and get to bed for 
 some rest. I'll see that you are called whenever you 
 want to get up. And, boy, rest easier with this thought : 
 you are not responsible for the evil, but will do all in 
 your power to allay suffering." 
 
 Stanley thanked his father with a glance as he 
 stepped through the cottage door into the kitchen. "I 
 told her," he continued the conversation, speaking to 
 his father, "that I did not want her to leave the child 
 to prepare breakfast and that I would have Aunt 
 Sophronia take their breakfast to them." 
 
 Aunt Sophronia, who had also seen Stanley as he 
 came, was already arranging a dainty meal on the 
 table for him. She looked up immediately, interested as 
 she heard Stanley's remark. Bill Lakeman conveyed to 
 her in very few words the need Stanley had just out- 
 lined to him. 
 
84 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''We'll just make them think we eat powerfully big 
 breakfasts up here, eh, Sophronia ? You sit right down, 
 boy, and eat your own breakfast. Sophronia and I 
 will attend to this." 
 
 Aunt Sophronia had seemed to anticipate the young 
 doctor's needs.* The breakfast she placed before him 
 was appetizing and restful. Stanley laughed as he 
 viewed a great plate of steaming cream toast. ' ' I think 
 that is literally true, father. Look at this plate. 
 Enough for three men." 
 
 Aunt Sophronia only smiled. She well knew that, 
 according to his own estimate, much more than one 
 man's share would disappear before he left the table. 
 
 ''Where's Stewart?" Stanley asked, as he removed 
 the contents of a coddled egg from its shell. "In bed 
 yet?" 
 
 "No," his father answered. "He wanted to try 
 walking, so he is out for a little exercise. He probably 
 will not go far. Those crutches do not make walking 
 easy." 
 
 "I thought for a while last night," Stanley said, 
 "that he would be needed more on my case than I 
 myself. ' ' 
 
 "I have always said," Bill Lakeman returned, "that 
 when I died I did not want any hypocritical preacher 
 saying any words over my grave, but I wouldn't mind 
 a few words from a chap like Stewart. He means 
 wihat he says at any rate." 
 
 "Yes," his son answered. "I can imagine him being 
 quite eloquent, too." 
 
 "Any really sincere man will probably be eloquent. 
 
STANLEY SENDS IN A BREAKFAST 85 
 
 Sincerity is the foundation upon which all true elo- 
 quence must be based," Bill Lakeman returned with 
 emphasis. ''There is in the world that which is some- 
 times mistaken for eloquence, but it is empty. It is 
 like some copies I have seen of masterpieces in paint- 
 ing. It lacks all that makes it worth while." 
 
 Aunt Sophronia had brought from the pantry a 
 large market basket in which she had already spread 
 a snowy cloth as a preface for what was to follow. 
 Stanley watched her approvingly as he saw a bottle 
 of rich, sweet milk follow a big, fluffy loaf of white 
 bread, several slices of home-cured ham, a cake of but- 
 ter, and a bag of coffee. Evidently not satisfied, the 
 good old lady disappeared once more within the pantry. 
 Stanley choked back a laugh, which came near being 
 fatal to a cup of coffee he held to his lips, for no sooner 
 was his aunt's back turned than he saw his father 
 surreptitiously lift the cover and slip in a glass of his 
 own favorite jelly. Stanley knew that particular 
 brand of jelly was scarce and that the giving of one 
 of the few remaining glasses meant a real sacrifice to 
 his father. He also knew that had Aunt Sophronia 
 known she would have substituted another in its stead. 
 So he kept his own counsel as his aunt continued to put 
 into the basket delicacy after delicacy of which only 
 she could have thought. 
 
 A few moments later Bill Lakeman had horse and 
 buggy waiting for her to start on her errand. He 
 nodded approvingly as he saw the evident pleasure 
 with which she went. As he turned to enter the house 
 once more he met Alfred coming up the path on his 
 return from his morning walk. 
 
86 THE CALL AT EVENING* 
 
 ''Well, sir," Bill Lakeman greeted him, ''how do 
 those crutches behave? A bit awkward, are they? It 
 takes practice to do anything in this world, even to 
 walk with crutches. A good pair of legs is better. 
 Yes ; they are better. 
 
 ' ' I remember once when I was a youngster, ' ' he went 
 on, laughing, "I had an ambition to walk on crutches, 
 so I stole out a pair my father had and tried them. The 
 result was that I slipped and fell and then had to use 
 them in real earnest. It ceased to be fun immediately. 
 The next day I cried because my mother made me use 
 them. Yes," he went on quietly, "my viewpoint 
 seemed to have changed. It seemed to have changed." 
 
 Reaching up he pulled a bunch of clematis bloom 
 which hung above their path. "How did you enjoy 
 your walk?" he added. 
 
 "Splendidly, sir, splendidly," Alfred answered. "I 
 walked down to that old tree with its branches stretched 
 over the creek. I'm afraid I am not really grown up. 
 I sat there and listened to the water running over the 
 rocks and imagined they wer,e saying many things. 
 What do you think I found there?" He held up a 
 flower of peculiar model. "A lady's-slipper — the first I 
 have seen for years." 
 
 "They are rare," Bill Lakeman said. "Two or three 
 during the summer are all we ever see. Just across the 
 creek on that hill, up among the trees, is a great bed of 
 bluebells ; around that little knoll to the right the hill 
 is covered with daisies. Just cross the meadow there 
 is a bed of yellow pansies. I suppose I should plow 
 them up and use the land, but the old place would 
 scarcely seem the same without them." 
 
STANLEY SENDS IN A BREAKFAST 87 
 
 By the time they had reached the kitchen door Stan- 
 ley had risen from the table. His eyes brightened as 
 they rested on Alfred Stewart. *'How does the foot 
 feel?" he asked in greeting. 
 
 "I haven't tried but I think I could almost walk 
 on it," Alfred returned. 
 
 *^ Indeed you could not," Stanley said with mock 
 severity. ''I don't want to hear of your trying it, 
 either." 
 
 ''Remember, father," he said as he left them, "don't 
 let me sleep .too long. I must get back to the 
 Bennett child this afternoon. Besides, I must call on 
 Mrs. Wenegar to-day." This with a wry face. 
 
 Bill Lakeman laughed heartily. ''Mrs. Wenegar," 
 he volunteered the information to Alfred, "is a would- 
 be invalid. She seems to think that the best way to 
 break into the inner circles of society is by the way of 
 the surgeon's knife. She is one of Stanley's best pay- 
 ing patients, but I think he will lose her unless he per- 
 forms some kind of an operation. He says he'll never 
 do it. Besides, he knows full well that if there were 
 something really wrong with her and he should effect 
 a cui:e, she would never forgive him. She would lose 
 her only topic of conversation. It takes all kinds of 
 people to make a world, and I am inclined to think 
 that a physician just about runs into all of them." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said, "and I think a preacher comes 
 in contact with a few various specimens also." 
 
 "I guess you are right," Bill Lakeman laughed back. 
 "However, it has always been one of my pet theories 
 that preachers themselves contribute very largely to 
 that same irregularity." 
 
88 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 It was now Alfred's turn to make a wry face, to the 
 great amusement of Bill Lakeman. 
 
 "Shall we call a truce?" Alfred asked, with a good- 
 natured sparkle in his eye. 
 
 ''Perhaps we had better," his companion returned. 
 *'I really must get to work myself." 
 
 ''And I think I must get to studying," Alfred said. 
 "Perhaps if I don't you will get the best of me in our 
 study to-night, and I don't think I would like that." 
 
 Bill Lakeman 's face became serious. "I am almost 
 beginning to think there is no danger of that," he 
 said as he went out. 
 
 When he was gone and Alfred was left alone, he knelt 
 before God and implored him long and earnestly to 
 assist him in bringing about the salvation of souls. 
 
CHAPTER 11 
 
 AS THE sun once more declined toward the 
 horizon, Alfred and Stanley came upon Aunt 
 Sophronia arranging tables and chairs beneath 
 the honeysuckle where Alfred had talked to them the 
 evening before. 
 
 ''Ah, this will be fine," Alfred said. '"Twill be so 
 much more pleasant to study here than indoors." 
 
 "Yes," Stanley bantered lightly, "and there will be 
 another big advantage. The preacher in the case can't 
 keep us too long, for it will get so dark we can't see to 
 read and he will have to quit. I find all preachers to 
 be more or less like Dunbar's colored preacher 
 was at the spelling match. He couldn't spell condensa- 
 tion." 
 
 Aunt Sophronia gave Alfred one of her rare smiles 
 and disappeared into the house, returning a moment 
 later with a large lamp in each hand. She placed one 
 on each table. Stanley threw up his hands with a 
 gesture of despair. 
 
 "It's no use," he said. "You've got Aunt Sophronia 
 on your side. 
 
 "Well," he continued with mock gravity, "I suppose 
 I had better bring my Bible and prepare for a theologi- 
 cal whipping." 
 
 "I'm afraid," Alfred returned, "that you will never 
 
90 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 recognize my theology as theology in the light of mod- 
 ern theology." 
 
 Stanley groaned. ''I'm beginning to see that I'll 
 never be able to survive such an experience." 
 
 The young man disappeared indoors as Bill Lakeman 
 came around the corner of the house lugging a great 
 family Bible that seemed to be all he could carry. 
 
 "Bill Lakeman!" Aunt Sophronia exclaimed. 
 "What are you bringing that Bible out here for? A 
 body would think you was hard up for Bibles." 
 
 "Never you mind, Sophronia," Bill Lakeman an- 
 swered, as he dropped the Bible with a thud on the 
 table nearest him. "I may need a Bible I can find 
 things in to-night. I have marked this one a wee bit. ' ' 
 
 Stanley and Alfred emerged once more from the 
 house. Bibles in hand, just as Jennie Burnside galloped 
 up to the gate and jumped from her horse. Jennie 
 cast her eyes approvingly over the scene. The quiet 
 peace of the old house with its ivy vines always filled 
 her with a vague longing, a dreamy realization that in 
 her life there was something lacking: a strange some- 
 thing which the unpretentious cottage seemed to satisfy. 
 The chairs and the tables, with their snow-white cov- 
 erings, now grouped artistically beneath the honey- 
 suckle, only intensified this feeling, because, although 
 she did not realize it, they intensified the atmosphere 
 of home which clung to the place. 
 
 "I see we are all ready," she said, when she had ex- 
 changed greetings with those present. "Do you know 
 I have been in a perfect fever of excitement to-day? 
 I could scarcly wait for this study hour to come. There 
 is so much I really want to know." 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 91 
 
 " I 'm like Jennie, ' ' Bill Lakeman said. ' ' I am anxious 
 to hear more of this man's strange doctrine. If he can 
 hold out as well as he started, it promises to be inter- 
 esting. We are all here, Mr. Stewart ; suppose we start 
 in if you are ready. ' ' 
 
 ''I am quite ready," Alfred answered. 
 
 He hobbled to the table nearest him and stood for a 
 moment by the side of a chair. Stanley seated himselr 
 on the opposite side of the same table. Bill Lakeman 
 chose a chair nearest the spot where he had deposited 
 the big Bible. Aunt Sophronia took a chair across the 
 table from him. eTennie, throwing her riding whip 
 and gloves on the grass behind her, seated herself in 
 the remaining chair beside Aunt Sophronia. 
 
 When each had raised an expectant face to him, Al- 
 fred said: 
 
 ''I do not feel like entering upon anything of this 
 kind without first asking the help of God. Would you 
 mind, Mr. Lakeman, if we should have prayer?" 
 
 ''No, indeed! Just fire ahead, sir," Bill Lakeman 
 said, not irreverently. ''I may not see where praying 
 accomplishes anything myself, but I am perfectly will- 
 ing to allow any man the privilege of praying if he 
 wants to." 
 
 Alfred knelt beside his chair, the others bowing or 
 kneeling as they felt inclined. Stanley did neither. He 
 watched Alfred's face curiously, studiously. It was 
 quite evident that prayer was a mystery to him. 
 
 The prayer was short and earnest. No effort was 
 made on the part of the young minister to impress his 
 hearers. There was no ministerial intonation of voice. 
 
92 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Indeed, a distinguishing feature of the prayer was its 
 utter lack of pretense and the earnestness with which 
 it was offered. 
 
 When the praj^er was ended Alfred looked into the 
 faces of his newly-acquired friends, each of whom had 
 an open Bible before him. 
 
 ''Friends," he said, ''I believe we have come together 
 to-night that we might acquire truth. Larson has 
 said, 'The acquirement of truth is the highest object 
 any man can have. ' I think if we truly desire to know 
 the truth we should open our minds to receive truth; 
 knowing this, that we cannot judge whether a thing be 
 true or not until we have taken it into our mind and 
 carefully examined it from all points of view. So I 
 ask you to consider carefully whatever may come be- 
 fore us. Not too critically, because a supercritical 
 mind is always half closed to truth; but logically ex- 
 amine the thoughts presented, and if they are the truth, 
 they will be able to stand any test you may be able to 
 bring to bear upon them. 
 
 "I do not ask or desire that you accept anything I 
 may say as the truth unless it will stand the test of 
 your own reason. That is the only way any truth can 
 be a truth to you. The Lord has said, 'Come now, and 
 let us reason together.' That is what I desire for to- 
 night, that we reason together. 
 
 "The matter we are about to take up means a great 
 deal to me, more than anything else in life. I believe 
 it means a great deal to you. Indeed I think it is the 
 most important question in the life of any man or 
 woman, because it deals with the question of ourselves 
 and our destiny. 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 93 
 
 * * One of two things is true : We are either nothing ; 
 that is, after our fitful little spell of life is over we 
 sink back again into the oblivion from which we came, 
 in which case the very life we possess is only the result 
 of certain combinations of chemical or physical ele- 
 ments and forces, which, spending themselves, are lost 
 again in inaction ; or we are intelligent spiritual beings. 
 
 ' ' If the former be true, we are then mentally as well 
 as physically a combination of many distinct parts and 
 forces. I do not believe that, for from birth to death 
 we never lose our feeling of mental unity. The mental 
 unity we feel always, separate and apart from the 
 diversified organization of our physical bodies. Always 
 we feel our identity. One identity, not many. Bo I 
 believe we are spiritual beings, clothed upon by a 
 physical body. If that be true, then it is easy to be- 
 lieve that when the physical body sinks into inactivity 
 or death, the spirit of man (by that I mean the think- 
 ing principle, the personality, the real man, that thing 
 we refer to when we say, ' I put that thought from- my 
 mind,^ simply withdraws from that which through 
 permanent inaction is no longer useful to it, and re- 
 turns once more to its spiritual plane. Now, taking this 
 as our starting point, the question before us is, What 
 is the destiny of that spirit ? What are its experiences 
 after leaving this life, and what did the mission of 
 Christ accomplish for it ? You will notice that that is a 
 continuation of the subject we had under consideration 
 last night.'' 
 
 Alfred paused and began turning the leaves of his 
 Bible. Stanley looked at him thoughtfully a moment, 
 then said: 
 
94 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 "Before you go further, I want to ask you a ques- 
 tion. Am I to understand you to mean that the thing 
 which you term spirit is something separate and dis- 
 tinct from the mind of man?" 
 
 ''Not that, exactly," Alfred answered. ''However, 
 I think we have a tendency to confuse the brain and 
 its action with the mind. In my estimation mind and 
 spirit are the same thing. But the action of the brain 
 may be quite another." 
 
 "Then you do not think that the brain creates 
 thought and the sum total of our thoughts is our 
 mind?" 
 
 "No," Alfred answered, "I do not. The brain is no 
 more capable of creating thought than an organ is of 
 creating music. The brain can be acted upon or can 
 transfer intelligence to the mind, but is not capable of 
 creating that which is greater than itself — the mind." 
 
 Stanley looked doubtfully up at the flowers hanging 
 in a cluster above his head. "I don't just know what 
 some of the teachers in the medical schools would say to 
 that theory," he said. 
 
 "Yet some of the most noted of your profession hold 
 this view," Alfred answered. "Tudeman tells us of a 
 case which came under his observation. A lunatic was, 
 insane on one side of his head, but observed and cor- 
 rected his own insanity. What observed and corrected 
 this insanity? Certainly the man himself, not half of 
 him." 
 
 Stanley and Bill Lakeman seemed to be thinking the 
 matter over quite seriously, but neither ventured to 
 question further along that line. When Alfred was 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 95 
 
 satisfied that no more would be asked, he turned his 
 attention to the matter before them. 
 
 ''Let me see," he said, reflectively; ''I think last 
 night we were considering the question of rewards. 
 We had taken the position that in the next world there 
 would be many different degrees of reward, according 
 to the work we had accomplished in this life. Did we 
 succeed in making that much clear?" 
 
 ''I think you substantiated your position by the 
 Bible. At least I thought so last night," Stanley said. 
 ''But you have raised several questions in my mind. 
 Now if the Bible be true, it ought not seriously to 
 contradict itself. How can every man be raised in his 
 own order, as you said last night when, according to 
 the Bible itself, the vast majority of them must already 
 be in hell ? I almost came to the conclusion from your 
 talk last night that you believed that Grod would not 
 send the unbeliever to hell. Now I have looked up sev- 
 eral passages of scripture to-day myself, and I can't 
 seem to harmonize them with your position." 
 
 Bill Lakeman nodded approval of his son's question. 
 Evidently the same line of thought had been in his 
 own mind. Over Jennie's face there passed a shadow, 
 a vague fear that the comfort she had received last 
 night might be fleeting. 
 
 "I think in that case," Alfred said, "we had better 
 examine those passages which you say you cannot 
 harmonize, for we can safely take the position that 
 truth will harmonize with itself. Only half truths and 
 falsehoods fail to harmonize. Before we do that, how- 
 ever, let us summarize our position as taken last night. 
 
96 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 We took the position, first, that every man would be 
 resurrected; second, that every man would come forth 
 in his own order to receive his own degree of glory; 
 third, that there exists a reward for the disciples of 
 Christ separate and apart from the reward which will 
 be given those who do not accept him." 
 
 ''I like that theory," Bill Lakeman said, ''because it 
 is so sensible and adequate. I can see that even the 
 part allowing the highest reward to go to those who 
 are the disciples of Christ is just. You, if you spend 
 your life serving Christ, will deserve more at his hands 
 than I would who have gone through life a skeptic, 
 doubting him and his words; yes, and even sometimes 
 criticizing. But what are you going to do about that 
 class of Christ's disciples who use their religion only 
 as a coat of respectability to cover up about as much 
 meanness as respectability can cover, with a little ex- 
 tra thrown in? What are you going to do about 
 them?" 
 
 Alfred smiled comprehendingly. ''You will notice," 
 he rejoined, "that I said, 'Those who apply the law of 
 Christ in their lives.' I am not even trying to do 
 anything with the class you mentioned. I am inclined 
 to think that Christ will do all to them that is necessarj^ 
 when the time comes. He has told us that, 'Not every 
 one who saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into 
 the kingdom of heaven.' He tells us plainly it is he 
 that 'doeth the will of the Father,' that shall enter 
 there. The others, I am afraid, must settle back to 
 their own level, and that at times may be quite low. 
 Now, let us see what we can do with the lack of har- 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 97 
 
 mony which Stanley has discovered. Let us hear your 
 passages of scripture, Stanley. We will all turn to 
 them while you read." 
 
 ''There is a place in the ninth chapter of Mark 
 which reads like this," Stanley said : " 'And if thy hand 
 oifend thee, cut it off; it is better for thee to enter life 
 maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into 
 the fire that never shall be quenched; where their 
 worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.' " Stan- 
 ley paused and looked at Alfred with an air of finality 
 which seemed to say, "Now, you can't get away with 
 that." 
 
 "Yes, and I've got another one to add to that," Bill 
 Lakeman broke in, flapping the leaves of his big Bible 
 noisily. When he found the place he was hunting, 
 heavy red lines around the verses proclaimed that they 
 had been read and considered before. "Matthew 
 13:41: 'The Son of Man shall send forth his angels, 
 and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things 
 that offend, and them which do iniquity ; and shall cast 
 them into a furnace of fire : there shall be wailing and 
 gnashing of teeth.' " 
 
 When his father paused, Stanley said: "Now, I 
 can't see how, with all those people tied up in ever- 
 lasting fire, you are going to give them the rewards 
 you were talking about last night." 
 
 Jennie's face was troubled. Bill Lakeman watched 
 Alfred narrowly; he felt that much depended on his 
 answer. Alfred's face was serious, but his eyes 
 twinkled. 
 
 "Do you know," he said, "that reminds me of an ex- 
 
98 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 perience I once had when I was a child; one Christmas 
 my grandmother gave me a game. It was all the States 
 of the Union cut from cardboard. When I put them 
 together properly I had a complete map of the United 
 States. When I put them together improperly the 
 result was confusion. One thing I always tried to do, 
 until I learned better, was to put the State of Texas 
 up where New York should have been, but it never 
 seemed to fit. Because it was big and glaring I always 
 wanted to use it first. But I could never get a complete 
 map of the United States that way. Now we have just 
 such a task before us to-night. There is a beautiful 
 plan of salvation in the Scriptures; but, like my map, 
 it needs placing together, and we will need to be very 
 careful or we may not succeed in bringing such pieces 
 together as shall at last make a perfect Avhole." 
 
 "I suppose you mean by that," Bill Lakeman said, 
 the smile once more returning to his kind old face, 
 'Hhat Stanley and I have picked out the Texases. 
 Well, have it your own way. We're ready to hear what 
 your New York is." 
 
 ''We're not even ready for New York, yet," Alfred 
 laughed back. Then seriously: ''Last night in our 
 discussions we looked at only one side of the question 
 before us. We talked of rewards. I think it is very 
 evident to any Bible student that there exists also pun- 
 ishment. Perhaps the words "reward" and "punish- 
 ment" hardly express what we wish to say, for after all, 
 it is a deeper question than that. It all centers around 
 two things : The mission of Christ and the work of the 
 Devil. So if we get anything out of this question we 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 99 
 
 must go farther back. We must study those two things 
 around which it all revolves." 
 
 Bill Lakeman looked at Alfred, a serious, half-wistful 
 look on his face. ''That is something I never could see 
 much in," he said. ''It has always looked to me as 
 though the mission of Christ which we hear so much 
 about is a sort of child's play. Don't misunderstand 
 me. I want to believe in it, but there seems so little to 
 believe in." 
 
 "I can understand your feeling," Alfred answered 
 gently, "for I have felt the same way myself in the 
 past. But, oh!" he continued, his voice vibrating with 
 emotion, "it is because we do not understand. The 
 work which Christ has undertaken is the biggest thing 
 in all the history of the universe, and when it is ac- 
 complished, will be the most complete." 
 
 "Then you do not think his work has been accom- 
 plished yet?" Stanley asked. 
 
 " No ! " Alfred answered earnestly. ' ' We have 
 scarcely seen the beginning of that work yet." 
 
 For a moment dead stillness reigned. Then Alfred 
 continued more gently : 
 
 ' ' I am inclined to think we will never be able in this 
 world to fully comprehend the true significance of the 
 statement, 'He has trodden the wine press alone.' 
 
 "The Bible gives us this picture," he went on, his 
 voice losing its dreamy quality : " 'When a strong man 
 armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace: but 
 when a stronger than he shall come upon him, and over- 
 come him, he taketh from him all his armor wherein 
 he trusted and divideth his spoils.' 
 
100 THE CALL AT EVENING* 
 
 ''These verses give us a hint of what the mission of 
 Christ is. He gives us to understand that there is a 
 strong man keeping a house, but that a stronger than 
 he shall come and take away all his armor and divide 
 his goods. 
 
 ' ' Now, Mr. Lakeman, will you read 1 John 3 : 8 and 
 tell us from there why Christ was manifested ? ' ' 
 
 Bill Lakeman read: " 'For this purpose was Christ 
 manifested, that he might destroy the works of the 
 Devil.' Destroy the works of the Devil?" Bill Lake- 
 man repeated questioningly. "Well, he'll have a life- 
 sized job." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, smiling at the other's 
 quaintness, "I think it will take a 'stronger than he' 
 all right to do the work. Now I think the thing for 
 us to do is to find what the works of the Devil are, 
 which we have just read Christ came to destroy. Now 
 I think we can agree that sin is one of the things which 
 the Devil brought into the world. Miss Lakeman, 
 from James 1: 15 what do we learn sin will cause?" 
 
 Aunt Sophronia lifted her eyes but made no move to 
 turn the leaves of her Bible. "Death," she answered. 
 
 "Very well," said Alfred. "Now we will see who 
 had the power over death. Stanley, will you tell us 
 from Hebrews 2:14?" 
 
 After a patient effort Stanley found the place and 
 read: " 'Forasmuch then as the children are partakers 
 of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part 
 of the same ; that through death he might destroy him 
 that had the power of death, that is, the Devil.' " 
 
 "We learn from this," Alfred continued, "the reason 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 101 
 
 Christ took upon himself a body of flesh ; that he him- 
 self might become subject to death and thus through 
 death destroy him who had power of death, the Devil." 
 
 "I never thought of the Devil as being the one who 
 had power of death," Jennie said. ''I think I have al- 
 ways blamed God for death." 
 
 ''I think you were wrong in that," Alfred said. 
 ''God is the great life-giver, the upbuilder in all things, 
 not the destroyer. Now if it is the Devil who has the 
 power of death, how many will he bring death upon?" 
 
 "All men," Stanley answered emphatically. 
 
 ''That is true," Alfred returned. "Now, Miss Burn- 
 side, tell us from 1 Corinthians 1 5 : 22 what Christ will 
 do to all men." 
 
 Jennie studied the verse carefully a moment, and 
 then said brightly: "Make them alive!" 
 
 "I think we can safely take the position," Alfred 
 went on, "that death is twofold. Please note this 
 carefully: First, spiritual, that is, separation from 
 God. Second, physical, separation of the body and 
 spirit. Those two things cover the death which Satan 
 brought into the world. Consequently those two things 
 cover the death which Christ undertook to overcome." 
 
 "That's a strange thought," Bill Lakeman said. 
 "Why, that would lead us to — but never mind — I'll 
 ask you that later. Yes, I'll ask you that later." The 
 old man nodded his head with apparent self-satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 "I think I know what your question is, Mr. Lake- 
 man," Alfred answered, "and I will answer that ques- 
 •^^ion also later. You can just save it for future refer- 
 
102 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ence. But to return to our subject. We learn from 2 
 Timothy 2 : 26 that those who do not accept the teach- 
 ings of Christ are taken captive by Satan. From 
 Psalms 9 : 17 and 55 : 15 we also learn that those cap- 
 tives of Satan are taken down to hell. Now we have 
 learned from these verses just what Stanley was saying 
 to us a few moments ago, that many people have been 
 confined in hell. Now, let us try to learn something 
 more about this place where these captives are con- 
 fined. Stanley, will you read Isaiah 5:14? The first 
 part of the verse will do." 
 
 Stanley read: " 'Therefore hell hath enlarged her- 
 self and opened her mouth without measure.' " 
 
 ''If I were a debater," Bill Lakeman spoke up, "I'd 
 say, Mr. Stewart, that you were talking on the wrong 
 side of the question." 
 
 ''Perhaps I am," laughed Alfred, "but I think that 
 in our search for truth nothing which contains truth 
 can be on the wrong side of the question. These verses 
 show something of the extent to which Satan succeeds 
 in taking captive the souls of men. 'Hell hath opened 
 her mouth without measure.' Now we have another 
 name for hell, given in Isaiah 24 : 22. Miss Burnside, 
 will you read it?" 
 
 " 'And they shall be gathered together as prisoners 
 are gathered in the pit.' " 
 
 "We will find the same term used in Job 33: 18-24, 
 28 ; also in Psalm 28 : 1, while the thirty-second chapter 
 of Ezekiel shows conclusively that hell and the pit are 
 the same place. Now, Stanley, will you read again 
 Isaiah 24:22?" 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 103 
 
 " 'And they shall be gathered together in the pit, and 
 shall be shut in the prison.' " 
 
 ''Now I think we have established the fact, that first, 
 the Devil brought sin into the world and through sin 
 gained the power over death; second, that through sin 
 and death the souls of vast multitudes are confined in 
 hell, the pit, or the prison, whichever term you care to 
 use. These, therefore, are the works of the Devil. 
 
 "I think we have also shown that the purpose for 
 which Christ came into the world was to destroy the 
 works of the Devil: sin, death, and the resultant cap- 
 tivity of souls. Now, Mr. Lakeman, will you read 1 
 Timothy 4:10?" 
 
 Bill Lakeman turned and read: " 'For therefore 
 we both labor and suffer reproach, because we trust in 
 the living God, who is the Savior of all men, specially 
 those that believe.' " 
 
 When he had finished he raised his head and looked 
 at Alfred keenly. 
 
 "Are you sure, Mr. Stewart, that this verse isn't 
 another Texas? It looks to me like a misfit. Here 
 you've got a lot of people already damned and in hell. 
 Now, how do you figure Christ is going to be the Savior 
 of all men?" 
 
 Alfred's vision wandered away from the little group 
 down to where the fireflies were beginning to play 
 along the creek. 
 
 "It does look like a predicament, doesn't it?" he 
 asked. "Now, let us get your question straight. Mr. 
 Lakeman has just read from the Bible that Christ is 
 to be the Savior of all men. Now he wants to know, if 
 
104 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 I understand him correctly, how Christ can be the 
 Savior of all men when the Devil has already captured 
 the souls of a vast majority of them; for, compara- 
 tively speaking, Christ has been accepted as the Savior 
 of the world by a very small portion of the inhabitants 
 of the earth, a surprisingly small proportion. That is 
 your question, is it not, Mr. Lakeman ?' ' 
 
 Bill Lakeman nodded. 
 
 ''Now, let us look for the answer. Stanley, will you 
 read once more from Isaiah 24:22?" 
 
 Stanley read : " 'And they shall be gathered together 
 as prisoners are gathered in the pit and shall be shut 
 up in the prison and after many days they shall be 
 visited.' " 
 
 "Eh! What's that?" This from Bill Lakeman. 
 ' ' Read that again. ' ' 
 
 When Stanley had read once more the old man 
 asked: "Do you mean to tell us that they will receive 
 visitors in hell?" 
 
 "I can answer that question as well as a preacher," 
 Stanley spoke up before Alfred had time to reply. "I 
 heard one once tell how every thousand years Satan 
 would walk around hell and open a red-hot door and 
 tell the man, woman, or child shut up inside that the 
 one thousand years just passed was only a moment out 
 of the eternity through which they would have to stay 
 there." 
 
 Stanley's face was quite serious — around the mouth 
 there had suddenly appeared set, hard lines. The 
 young preacher's laugh rang out as his eyes rested ac- 
 cusingly on his friend. 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 105 
 
 ''Oh, Stanley, Stanley!" he said. ''You almost had 
 me thinking I was hearing a big evangelist preaching a 
 sermon on hell. Now, listen." The young preacher 
 suddenly leaned forward and let his fist fall on the 
 table in front of Stanley. "You tell that preacher 
 that I want to know where he finds his records of these 
 periodical visits of Satan in hell, outside of his own 
 imagination. I want to know when a man's walking 
 around in his own house is called a visit. I think your 
 preacher will have to look somewhere else for his visi- 
 tor. I believe we can give better answer ourselves. 
 Do you remember the verses we used in the beginning 
 of our study? 'When a strong man armed keepeth his 
 palace, his goods are in peace : but when a stronger than 
 he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he taketh 
 from him all his armor wherein he trusted and divideth 
 his spoils.' Now let us not forget that thought. The 
 strong man's goods are safe until a stronger man comes. 
 Now let us look a little further. Let us see if we can 
 find some of the work to be accomplished by this 
 srange visitor in hell; then, perhaps we can decide 
 whether it is the 'stronger than he' or not. Now let 
 us summarize : "We have learned that Satan has truly 
 captured many souls and has brought them down to 
 hell, the pit, and has shut them up in prison, but that 
 after many days they shall be visited. Now what is 
 the object of that visit, and what is to be accomplished 
 by it?" 
 
 "Well, if it is not Satan who visits them, who does? 
 That's the question which is bothering me," Stanley 
 said. 
 
106 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 '^That's the question which will bother us all pretty 
 soon," Alfred replied. 
 
 ''It looks to me, young man, like you are getting into 
 mighty deep water," Bill Lakeman said. ''I've talked 
 to lots of preachers, but I'll declare, you've got me 
 curious. ' ' 
 
 "It's clear as far as we have gone, isn't it?" Alfred 
 asked anxiously. "Those things are all in the Bible." 
 
 "Yes, yes; that's it. They are all in the Bible, but it 
 looks to me like a great big muddle." 
 
 "Well, let's see. I think we can straighten out the 
 muddle," Alfred said. "Miss Lakeman, from Zecha- 
 riah 9 : 11, will you tell us what is to happen to the 
 prisoners ? ' ' 
 
 Miss Lakeman read: " 'As for thee also, by the 
 blood of thy covenant I have sent forth thy prisoners 
 out of the pit, wherein is no water.' " 
 
 "Do you mean," Stanley asked, "that those prison- 
 ers can ever come out of hell?" 
 
 "Do you remember," Alfred asked in return, "what 
 happens to the strong man's goods when a 'stronger 
 than he' shall come?" 
 
 Bill Lakeman scratched his head and looked thought- 
 fully at the book before him. Finally, without ventur- 
 ing an opinion, he simply drew pencil marks around 
 the verse and said: "Well, let's hear what you've got 
 next." 
 
 "All right; Stanley, read Isaiah 61:1." 
 
 " 'He hath sent me to bind up the broken Jiearted, 
 to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening 
 of the prison to them that are bound. ' " 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 107 
 
 Bill Lakeman began to show signs of excitement, but 
 he said nothing, merely marking again around the 
 verse in his Bible. 
 
 ' ' Now, Miss Burnside, Isaiah 49 : 9. " 
 
 ' ' ' That thou mayest say to the prisoners, Go forth ; 
 to them that sit in darkness, Show yourselves.' " 
 
 ''Now, Mr. Lakeman, Isaiah 42:7." 
 
 The old man read, but his voice shook as he did so : 
 *' 'To open the blind eyes, to bring out the prisoners 
 from the prison, and them that sit in darkness from the 
 prison house.' 
 
 "Man!" he said as though he could contain himself 
 no longer. "Do you know what you are teaching us? 
 You are teaching us that Satan can't keep the people in 
 hell even after he gets them -there." 
 
 "I know it," Alfred answered, his voice taking on 
 the soft, almost caressing quality he always used when 
 deeply stirred. "I'm teaching you what happens when 
 a 'stronger than he' shall come." 
 
 "What I want to know is, Who is going to do all 
 this?" Stanley broke in. "How's all this going to be 
 brought about after Satan gets them all in hell?" 
 
 "The Prophet Ezekiel tells us," Alfred answered 
 him, "that the strong among the mighty shall speak 
 to him out of the midst of hell, with them that help 
 him." 
 
 " 'The strong among the mighty.' Well, that doesn't 
 tell us who it is," Stanley persisted. 
 
 "Turn to Psalm 24:7, 8. That may help us. Miss 
 Burnside, read it, please." 
 
 " 'Lift up your heads, ye gates; and be ye lifted 
 
108 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 up? ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall 
 come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong 
 and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.' " 
 
 ''Do you mean to say," Jennie asked, ''that it is the 
 Lord who is to speak out of the midst of hell ? Surely, 
 Christ never went to hell." 
 
 "He is the strong among the mighty. Isaiah speaks 
 of him as the mighty to save. The Bible tells us that 
 he is to speak out of the midst of hell. It also tells 
 us, in Ephesians 4 : 9, that he also descended into the 
 nethermost parts of the earth." 
 
 "But he did no sin. Why should he be there?" 
 Jennie was evidently troubled. 
 
 "Let's look for the answer in the Bible," Alfred 
 said. "Stanley, will you turn to 1 Peter 3: 18, 19 and 
 read?" 
 
 " 'For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the 
 just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, be- 
 ing put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the 
 Spirit: by which also he went and preached to the 
 spirits in prison.' " 
 
 "Now if we will read also verse 20," Alfred con- 
 tinued, "we will find that these spirits to whom Christ 
 went to preach were those who had refused to believe 
 when Noah preached to them before the flood. They 
 had been in the prison house many years, but after 
 'many days' they were visited. Christ himself went to 
 preach to them. Remember the words, 'He hath sent 
 me to preach deliverance to the captives.' Paul tells 
 us that 'he led captivity captive'; 1 Peter 4:6 says, 
 'For this cause is the gospel preached to them that are 
 dead.' " 
 
"OPENED HE THE SCRIPTURES" 109 
 
 Night was advancing from over the hill, the shadows 
 along the creek were deepening. A lone cricket back 
 of the barn sent out his shrill call on the evening air. 
 The frogs in the pond raised a melody in chorus, but 
 these things went unnoticed. 
 
 ''Ah, no," the speaker continued, the light of a 
 dreamer in his eyes, ''the strong among the mighty has 
 come. He that liveth and was dead, but is alive forever- 
 more, and has the keys of death and hell, will open 
 the prison house and say to the prisoners, 'Go forth.' 
 Truly it was a mission worthy of the Son of God." 
 
 Bill Lakeman jumped from his chair, overturning it 
 in his agitation. "God!" he ejaculated, "so that is 
 the mission of Christ, and I have dared to speak lightly 
 of it; dared to criticize it; dared to call it a failure; 
 dared to laugh at religion. My God! Could he ever 
 forgive me?" 
 
 Tears flowed freely down the old man's face. He 
 turned and grasped Alfred's hand in his own. 
 
 "Go on, my boy; go tell that message to the world. 
 Lord, how they need it! How we all need it! Don't 
 let them go doAvn to their graves as Mrs. Burnside has 
 gone, and as I almost have gone, with hardness in their 
 hearts against God and Christ, because we thought they 
 were trying to damn humanity instead of save them. 
 God in heaven!" The old man lifted his hands above 
 his head appealingly. "How could I ever have been 
 so blind?" 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said, his own voice shaking 
 with emotion, "you did not criticize Christ's work. You 
 only criticized what you thought was Christ's work; 
 
110 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 what the religious world told you was Christ's work." 
 
 ''Ah, I know/' the old man said more calmly, half 
 sadly, "but there was the Bible. Why couldn't I read 
 it myself? Why couldn't I see?" 
 
 "You simply put the map together wrong," Alfred 
 answered. 
 
 "Yes, yes; I suppose so. But I can't see why I 
 never saw it before." 
 
 Bill Lakeman had not been the only one deeply moved 
 by the revelations of the hour. Jennie had slipped 
 away when he began speaking, fearing that Alfred 
 would see the tears that would come. They were happy 
 tears now, tears that seemed to wash away the burden 
 of years. 
 
 "Tell Mr. Stewart I will come again to-morrow 
 night," she said to Stanley as she slipped past him. 
 He endeavored to follow her to the gate and assist her 
 to mount, but she was too quick for him and was in 
 the saddle and away before he reached the gate. 
 
 Stanley did not return to the house at once, but stood 
 leaning against the gate as he gazed out across the 
 valley where many fireflies frolicked in the darkness. 
 
 "Who would have believed that the Bible taught 
 that?" he said to himself. "George ! it was great. I'm 
 like father; I always thought there wasn't much to the 
 mission of Christ, but it is wonderful. In the face of 
 all that, I can't doubt God. I don't want to doubt 
 him." 
 
CHAPTER 12 
 THE OLD TREE HEARS STRANGE THINGS 
 
 WHEN Stanley returned to the house Alfred 
 and his father had disappeared. Aunt So- 
 phronia was removing chairs and tables. 
 Stanley sat down on the edge of the porch and pulled 
 a bunch of ivy leaves from the vine beside him. 
 
 "Well, Aunt Sophronia, what did you think of it?" 
 he asked. 
 
 His aunt stopped with a chair poised in each hand. 
 Stanley reached out and took them from her. '*IT1 
 take these in/' he said. 
 
 ''Well, I believed it," she answered. "I always 
 knew there would be some way. I knew the Devil'd 
 never get all those people. Only I didn't know how to 
 prove it from the Bible like he does." 
 
 The old lady turned to pick up the last table. '*IT1 
 bring that in, too," Stanley called back as he disap- 
 peared within. 
 
 After placing things at rights once more in the house 
 he strolled off through the evening shadows, down the 
 path which led to the grove. It was quite dark 
 among the trees, but Stanley knew the grove well and 
 made his way with assurance. Not far from the edge 
 of the grove stood an old oak tree. In times long past 
 its low branches had been bent by a force now un- 
 
112 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 known, probably the falling of a larger tree, and now, 
 as it had grown old, formed an excellent seat. 
 
 Had the daylight afforded, one could have seen a 
 w^ell-defined path leading directly to this tree, showing 
 that from, childhood it had been Stanley's favorite 
 spot of seclusion. Many of his childhood secrets were 
 hidden away in the heart of the old tree. Often in the 
 days long past, seated on the low limb now almost 
 worn smooth, he had whittled away, bare feet dang- 
 ling, while his mind was busy with boyish cares; and 
 the old tree had stood by in silent sympathy. Nor was 
 this all. It had gathered other secrets of later years, 
 not so much from his telling, but from the trouble or 
 joy which was written on his face, or the shadow which 
 lay in his eyes as he came to commune with himself. 
 
 The greatest problems of his life had been thought 
 out here. It was seated in the old tree that he had 
 planned his profession. It was here he often came to 
 think when stubborn cases refused to yield to his 
 treatment, and had often received the inspiration which 
 brought to him professional success. And once he had 
 come here with a glad light in his eyes and a song in 
 his heart, when — but we are not telling that now. 
 
 So he came to-night to think on a new phase of life — 
 the hereafter; not now as a skeptic, doubting such a 
 condition, but rather as an inquirer, seeking to delve 
 deeper into truths hitherto unknown. 
 
 Stanley looked out from among the trees where the 
 last dim light of day faintly illumined the path leading 
 to the grove. A figure was coming along the path, at 
 first barely discernible in the darkness ; but as it drew 
 
TREE HEARS STRANGE THINGS 113 
 
 nearer the grove he saw by the unnatural gait that 
 crutches were used in walking. Evidently Stanley was 
 not the only one who wished to commune with himself 
 in God's own temples. However, Stanley had no 
 further wish to commune with himself. He wanted 
 much more to ask questions which were crowding up 
 in his mind. 
 
 The figure came nearer and paused at the spot where 
 the path entered the grove, as if uncertain whether to 
 enter the deeper shadows of the trees or to turn else- 
 where. 
 
 ''Stewart," Stanley called. The figure stopped, evi- 
 dently puzzled to tell w^here the voice came from. 
 
 ''Oh, I'm here in the grove," Stanley called, laugh- 
 ing at the other's uncertainty. "Just follow the path, 
 it's perfectly level and clear. There's no danger of 
 falling, and it leads directly here." 
 
 Alfred entered the woods and, as his eyes became 
 more accustomed to the darkness, could make out the 
 outlines of the trees and the path which wound among 
 them. As he came up to the old oak he could see 
 Stanley seated on the low limb of the tree. 
 
 "I thought I was the only one," Alfred said, "who 
 could not think of going to bed without once more 
 getting out among the trees, but I seem to have found 
 a kindred spirit." 
 
 "I tell my troubles to this old tree," Stanley replied, 
 as he moved over to make room for his friend. 
 
 "Am I to understand that you are in trouble to- 
 night?" Alfred asked. "I didn't " 
 
 "No, you didn't," Stanley broke in quickly. "Be- 
 
114 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 sides, you are not to take my statements too literally. 
 I am not selfish enough to give this tree only my 
 troubles. I think even a tree would die if we did noth- 
 ing but tell it troubles all the time. No. I came out 
 here to try to get straight in my mind what you were 
 trying to teach us to-night." 
 
 "Are you satisfied, so far as your study has taken 
 you?" Alfred asked. 
 
 **Very much so," the other answered. ''Only it 
 didn't go far enough. I'm just full of questions." 
 
 ''When you were in medical school," Alfred said, 
 "I dare say you wanted to start right in the first year 
 learning surgery." 
 
 "Just about that bad," Stanley admitted. 
 
 "Let's hear some of your questions," Alfred said, 
 leaning his crutch on the limb beside him. "What's 
 bothering you most?" 
 
 "Well, it will probably be another Texas, as father 
 says, but here goes. If it is, you can put it off for 
 future reference. Now, if the unbelievers must go to 
 hell, will they all burn in a lake of fire until Christ 
 comes to take them out?" 
 
 "I do not understand it so," Alfred returned. "I 
 think the hell or prison house in which the captive spir- 
 its are confined between death and the resurrection 
 is a place separate and apart from that hell spoken of 
 as a lake of fire." 
 
 "A separate place?" Stanley asked, puzzled. 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered. "We read in Revelation 
 20:13, speaking of the time of the judgment, *And 
 death and hell delivered up the dead which were in 
 
TREE HEARS STRANGE THINGS 115 
 
 them: and they were judged every man according to 
 their works.' The next verse reads, now notice the 
 wording, 'And death and hell were cast into the lake 
 of fire.' We learn from this, two things. First, that 
 death and hell will deliver up the dead that are in 
 them ; and second, that death and hell will be cast into 
 the lake of fire. So they could not be the same place, 
 could they?" 
 
 ''No," Stanley said thoughtfully; "hell could not be 
 cast into itself. Not unless there w^ere two hells." 
 Then, after a moment's thought, "Do you regard this 
 lake of fire as a literal lake of fire?" 
 
 "I don't know," Alfred answered. "That is one of 
 the questions I cannot answer with any degree of cer- 
 tainty. Some who are considered good authority be- 
 lieve it to be a real, literal lake of fire. Others con^ 
 sider it figurative. One thought which comes to me 
 is this : fire, literal fire, is of a material nature and acts 
 upon material things. Now death and hell are not ma- 
 terial things ; they are conditions. We are also told that 
 this lake of fire was prepared for the Devil and his 
 angels. The Devil and at least a part of his angels are 
 spiritual beings, consequently they could not be acted 
 upon by a material fire. So I cannot see how it could be 
 a literal fire. However, it is a condition I never want to 
 test personally. I am willing to let the Devil and his 
 angels test than condition alone, so far as I am con- 
 cerned." 
 
 Stanley gazed intently out to where he knew the 
 path ended. "Do you think," he asked, "that anyone 
 besides the Devil and his angels will have to go there?" 
 
116 . THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered. ''I'm afraid so. We read 
 that the sons of perdition must go there — they who 
 have not their names written in the Lamb's book of 
 life." 
 
 ''How, then, can Christ be the Savior of all men, as 
 you read from the Bible he w^ould be ? " Stanley asked. 
 
 ' ' Christ will have saved them once, ' ' Alfred an- 
 swered, abstractedly pulling pieces of bark from the 
 limb on which he sat. "He will still have been their 
 Savior. That is where the sin against the Holy Ghost 
 comes in, in the passages of scripture you read first. 
 If, after they have accepted Christ and tasted the good 
 gift of Go^, they then turn and deny, I can find no hope 
 of a second salvation for them in the Scriptures." 
 
 Stanley pondered the question a moment, gazing into 
 the blackness of the leaves above them. "I don't 
 know," he said finally, "that they deserve one." 
 
 "You see, it is like this," Alfred went on. "The 
 Lord has made us a promise that if any man will do the 
 will of the Father, he shall know of the dodtrine. Now, 
 when that promise has been verified and any man has 
 been given, not a belief but a knowledge, that Jesus 
 is the Christ, the Savior; if, regardless of that knowl- 
 edge, he deliberately denies the message the Holy Ghost 
 has given him, he has no further claim on Christ and 
 must go down with the Devil and his angels to whose 
 level he has fallen. However, I believe that number in 
 the world's history has been very few." 
 
 "Do you think," Stanley asked again, "that the 
 spirits of those who are kept in that hell which you call 
 the prison house suffer greatly before Christ comes to 
 them with his message?" 
 
TREE HEARS STRANGE THINGS 117 
 
 ''I can't tell you that," Alfred answered, ''although 
 I am inclined to think it will depend on the individual. 
 There is a passage of scripture which says, 'Thou hast 
 delivered my soul from the lowest hell.' Now, lowest 
 hell suggests that there must be other hells not quite 
 so low. In other words, degrees of hell. I don't know 
 how many of those degrees there may be, but I can 
 easily believe that a very wicked man would suffer 
 more than one not so wicked, can't you? The condem- 
 nation of his own conscience would make his punish- 
 ment worse." 
 
 "Yes, I would think so," his companion answered. 
 
 For a while no sound was heard among the trees of 
 the grove. Each man was busy with his own thoughts. 
 Presently Stanley leaned forward and laid his hand on 
 his friend's shoulder. 
 
 ' ' Do you know what you said to me about there being 
 a God?" he asked. "You told me not to worry; that 
 question would settle itself. Well, that happened to- 
 night while you were talking. I don't know how it 
 came about, but all at once I seemed to know that there 
 is a God. I have tried in the past to figure him out, 
 tried to account for him scientifically, but I just 
 couldn't. To-night I felt within myself that it was 
 true. I think father felt the same way." 
 
 "Of course you couldn't figure him out," Alfred an- 
 swered gently. "No man can. It is impossible to 
 know God unless he reveals himself. After all, what 
 is any knowledge but revelation? Take your knowl- 
 edge of the existence of this tree, for instance. What 
 is that knowledge but a revelation given you by the 
 
118 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 senses of sight and touch? This tree existed one hour 
 ago, yet the knowledge of it had not yet been revealed 
 to me through the means the Creator has designed for 
 such revelation to reach me. It was the same with you 
 in regard to God. He existed, but the knowledge of 
 his existence had not yet been revealed to you. This 
 is the way it occurs to me. 
 
 '' 'Man,' I mean the thinking principle, that entity we 
 call 'I,' is a spiritual being, full and complete. Now that 
 spiritual being is living here on a physical plane,, com- 
 ing in contact with things of a physical or material 
 nature. In order that we may do that to the very 
 greatest advantage, God has clothed us with a physical 
 body, corresponding to our surroundings, through 
 which revelation of physical things may reach us. 
 That is why God pronounced man good when he had 
 created him. He was truly complete, equipped both to 
 receive revelation (knowledge) of things spiritual and 
 things physical : spiritual, through the spirit ; physical, 
 through the body. Now if we try to receive revelations 
 of spiritual things through the means God has planned 
 for us to receive revelations of physical things, we will 
 be disappointed. That is what the world tries to do. 
 They don't w^ant God to reveal himself through the 
 proper channel, the spirit; that is too old-fashioned. 
 They want him to reveal himself only through physical 
 things : trees, flowers, etc. ; overlooking the fact that 
 only evidence, not knowledge, can come that way. 
 True, evidence is important, but it is only a means to 
 an end. Evidence brings belief. Revelation brings 
 knowledge, and Christ has promised that we shall 
 know." 
 
TREE HEARS STRANGE THINGS 119 
 
 *'I can't tell you how anxious I am to learn," Stan- 
 ley said. ''There seems to be such a store of things I 
 don't know." 
 
 They talked long, and perhaps if we knew, the old 
 tree rejoiced to hear truth as old as Nature herself, 
 because they talked of Nature's God. The moon over 
 the hill peeped cautiously, grew bolder, looked again, 
 then slowly came into view and cast a halo of beauty 
 over all the world. 
 
CHAPTER 13 
 AN AWAKENING 
 
 JOHN BENNETT did not awaken, but slept the heavy 
 sleep of the drunkard throughout the remainder of 
 the night and all the day following. As night drew 
 near he stirred fitfully, murmured, slept again. His wife 
 Mary watched wearily but patiently beside the stricken 
 child. She left her post gratefully, most gratefully, to 
 partake of the breakfast which Aunt Sophronia had 
 brought for her and Joey, while that lady took her 
 place at the bedside. 
 
 Aunt Sophronia cast frequent and disgusted glances 
 at the degraded heap of manhood on the bed across the 
 room, and ejaculated scornfully, ''Law me!" but when 
 Mary Bennett had returned once more from the kitchen, 
 Aunt Sophronia 's face had resumed its placid impene- 
 trable expression of kindliness. Aunt Sophronia was 
 not a talker. Few words passed her lips, but many 
 deeds of kindness had left their impress on her soul. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, when Doctor Lakeman called 
 on his round of visits, he found his aunt at the bedside 
 of the child while the mother slept. 
 
 ''This is fine of you, Aunt Sophronia," Stanley said, 
 approvingly. "Mrs. Bennett needs the rest badly. She 
 will need to be up much of the night again to-night." 
 
 "Ah," he continued, as he sank into the chair his 
 aunt had just vacated, and looked into the face of the 
 
AN AWAKENING 121 
 
 child. ''This is more like it. She looks mxich better. 
 She'll get along all right now, with careful nursing." 
 
 ''What would you do, aunt," Stanley looked up 
 from his work a moment later, a gleam of mischief in 
 his eyes, "if that gentleman there would awaken 
 while you are here alone?" 
 
 ' ' Gentleman ! ' ' The word fairly exploded from Aunt 
 Sophronia's lips. "If that animal over there wakes up 
 while I'm here, I'll see that it behaves itself." 
 
 ■Stanley laughed silently. His aunt looked indeed 
 capable of carrying out her threat. ' ' Well, it will not 
 be necessary," her nephew responded. "The medicine 
 I gave him will keep him sleeping until morning, I 
 think. Tell Mrs. Bennett to get all the rest she can 
 herself during the night. Tell her also if the child is 
 sleeping not to arouse her for the medicine. The sleep 
 will do her more good noAV. I have several other calls 
 to make," he added, as he prepared to leave. "Father 
 will get supper if you don't get home in time, so don't 
 worry. Stay here as long as you are needed." 
 
 "I'll do that," his aunt returned. "You tell your 
 pa not to use the milk in that dark crock. I want 
 that." 
 
 "All right," Stanley laughed as he went out. He 
 knew some delicacy was in store for them. 
 
 So the day wore on. The coming of night did not 
 seem so terrible to Mary Bennett as it had the night 
 before, for new friends had come to share her burdens 
 with her and life seemed much less dreadful. When 
 Aunt Sophronia left she had taken Joey with her. The 
 little lad sat beside her, prim and happy in his pros- 
 
122 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 pect for a ride. He rolled his eyes triumphantly to 
 his mother in the doorway when Aunt Sophronia placed 
 the lines in his hands and told him to "drive." When 
 they had gone, Mary Bennett took up her duties with 
 a lighter heart than she had known for many days. 
 
 Throughout the night the child slept peacefully, 
 arousing only at intervals, at which times the mother 
 gave her the medicine as the doctor had directed, and 
 soothed her again into sleep. As morning drew near 
 she looked at her mother with a light of recognition in 
 her eyes and the sweet baby smile on her lips. The 
 small white hand reached out and found a resting place 
 on her mother's face. Thus morning found them 
 wrapped in the deep sleep of physical exhaustion. 
 
 As the first rays of the sun stole through the muslin 
 curtain, leaving its patch of light on the cabin floor, the 
 figure on the bed in the opposite corner stirred. A mo- 
 ment la,ter a deep groan evidenced the fact that John 
 Bennett was awake. He lay quietly for a moment and 
 then cautiously tried to lift his head from the pillow. 
 Another groan issued from his lips and his head fell 
 back helplessly; his face was white with suffering. 
 Several minutes passed. He tried once more to raise 
 himself on his elbow, this time with better success, 
 although he buried his face in his hands as though to 
 hide from himself the pain each movement caused. 
 
 ''Oh, Lord!" he muttered when he made an effort to 
 regain his feet. He leaned against the wall and buried 
 his head in his arms. After a moment, still pressing 
 his head between his hands, he staggered to the rock- 
 ing-chair in the center of the room and sank weakly 
 into it. 
 
AN AWAKENING 123 
 
 When Mary Bennett aroused from her slumbers, per- 
 haps an hour later, she found him there, his entire at- 
 titude expressive of utter dejection. She arose cau- 
 tiously and went to his side. 
 
 "John,'' she said gently. 
 
 A groan was her only answer. ''John," she said 
 again, laying her hand on his shoulder. 
 
 ''For God's sake, Mary, don't touch me," he said. 
 "I don't see how you can." 
 
 A shadow of pain crossed her face. She knew the 
 awful depth of remorse which always followed his de- 
 bauchery — remorse which left him only when he re- 
 turned once more into the terrible grasp of that which 
 was dragging him down. And she was helpless. All 
 she could do was to stand by and see him slip from 
 her, see him slip down to the awful depths from which 
 there seems no hope of return. Several times she re- 
 membered he had tried to put it from him. There had 
 been short seasons of hope — hope that after all life 
 might once more take on some of the brightness which 
 had characterized her earlier married life. But always 
 there had come a time when her hope had been dashed 
 from her, and he had sunk back into deeper depths than 
 he had known before, until hope had died. In her 
 heart now there was no hope. She only waited — waited 
 for the end. 
 
 The next few hours were intolerable. Vainly she 
 tried to encourage him, tried to lift him from the 
 depths of depression as she had tried many times be- 
 fore, but to no avail. With the clear vision of a sober 
 mind he could comprehend all too plainly the extent of 
 
124 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 his fall and its dreadful effect upon those he loved. 
 
 At noontime she left him and prepared in the kitchen 
 all that remained of the provisions Aunt Sophronia had 
 brought the day before. He looked at the dish sus- 
 piciously. ''Mary/' he asked, "where did you get 
 that?" 
 
 ''Friends brought it yesterday, John." She an- 
 swered him as she would have answered a sick child. 
 "You will eat, now, won't you? It will steady your 
 nerves. Really, John " 
 
 He pushed the plate from him. 
 
 "Has it come to that, Mary? Isn't there anything 
 to eat in the house except what people bring in?" 
 
 There was a new note in his voice. She dared not tell 
 him other than the truth, yet she shrank from adding 
 to his weight of misery. 
 
 "Why don't you tell me, Mary? Why don't you 
 answer?" he insisted. 
 
 "Yes, John," she said finalTy. "This is all we have 
 to eat, but some way will open before us, surely. Some- 
 thing must." 
 
 "And, Mary," he continued in a quiet, even tone, un- 
 naturally quiet and even. His wife was frightened. "I 
 suppose you know that mj^ money is gone. Yesterday 
 was pay day." 
 
 "I — I thought it would be," she said, so low he 
 could scarcely hear the words. For a time they were 
 quiet, thinking. 
 
 "What are you going to do now, Mary?" he asked. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know, John," she answered him, her 
 voice breaking. "Something will turn up. Surely '* 
 
AN AWAKENING 125 
 
 ''Mary." That awful, quiet, even tone turned her 
 cold with fear, a fear for which she could not account. 
 *'If it were not for me you could get help. No one 
 will help you with a drunken husband about." 
 
 ''Oh, John," his wife begged through her tears, "I 
 don't want to talk about it any more now. Later, when 
 you are feeling better and I am stronger, we will talk 
 again. I want you to eat this now. You need it, 
 John." 
 
 Again he pushed the plate from him with a shudder. 
 "Take it away, Mary," he begged. "I don't want to 
 see it." 
 
 With saddened heart she disappeared once more into 
 the kitchen where she set the plate on the table and 
 stepped through the door into the open air. When she 
 realized that she was no longer under the watchful eye 
 of her husband she ran lightly down the path and dis- 
 appeared among the trees. There seemed to be no 
 path, but she wound in and out among the bushes and 
 finally came to a little clearing just beside the lake, 
 only a few feet in diameter, but surrounded on all sides 
 by a dense growth of willows. Here, in utter seclu- 
 sion she sank in the soft bed of mosses and wept bit- 
 terly. After a time, once more strengthened, she rose 
 to her knees and lifted her heart to God in prayer. 
 And while she prayed, could she have seen the shap- 
 ing of events in her own home, her faith would have 
 failed, and she would have thought indeed that God 
 had forsaken her. 
 
CHAPTER 14 
 A SUDDEN CHANGE OF PLAN 
 
 NO SOONER had Mary Bennett left the room in 
 which her husband had been seated than he arose 
 from his chair, crossed the room, and softly closed 
 and bolted the door leading to the kitchen. This precau- 
 tion was unnecessary, had he only known, for his wife 
 had already left the house. Very quickly now, he crossed 
 the room and lifted the curtain which fell over the box 
 in the corner ; and took from it a short black pistol. He 
 examined it minutely, seemed satisfied with the loading, 
 and slipped it into the bosom of his shirt. Then he 
 picked up his battered hat and went out. 
 
 John Bennett followed the trail leading to the high- 
 way, crossed the road, and plunged into the forest on 
 the opposite side. Here, after walking a short distance 
 among the trees, he came to a little ravine, veering 
 slightly to the south. This he knew would lead him 
 into the thickest part of the forest. 
 
 Without once pausing he walked on until he had 
 covered nearly a mile, then crossing a brooklet he 
 climbed a slight elevation and, entering a thicket, was 
 lost to view. No better place could have been chosen 
 for his purpose. The woods were deep and quiet. The 
 very deadness of the quietude seemed to suggest that 
 civilization was far removed. Here, in a natural in- 
 cisure, seated on the log of a fallen tree, John Ben- 
 
A SUDDEN CHANGE OF PLAN 127 
 
 nett drew from its resting place the weapon he had 
 secreted. The sudden snapping of a twig in the dead 
 silence of the place made him start guiltil,y, but in an- 
 other moment he had learned the cause, as a little 
 brown squirrel ran into view. When it spied him, it 
 stopped suddenly in its frolic, eyed him suspiciously, 
 and then scampered off. From among the leaves above 
 his head a blue jay watched him cautiously; then the 
 whir of wings announced that it also was seeking a 
 safer distance. These were the only sounds of the for- 
 est. 
 
 Satisfied once more that there was no danger of de- 
 tection, John Bennett lifted the weapon and placed the 
 muzzle against his breast. A feeling of nausea pos- 
 sessed him. Shaking violently, he lowered the weapon 
 once more and his face turned a sickly white. 
 
 ''This won't do," he murmured in self-condemnation, 
 while the muscles of his face set in fierce determina- 
 tion. He raised the weapon again, this time holding it 
 from him almost at arm's length. He shut his eyes 
 that he might not see, and slowly brought his thumb 
 back on the trigger. 
 
 ''What on earth!" 
 
 The bullet went wild. The weapon had been forcibly 
 knocked from his fingers. John Bennett gazed in 
 amazement at a tall young man with flashing blue eyes 
 and a crutch in his hand, who stood before him. 
 
 "Now look here, stranger!" the young man said. 
 •*'I don't know you or what kind of tomfoolery you 
 are up to, but it seems I came just in time. Now sup- 
 pose you tell me what this is all about. Tell me what 
 your trouble is." 
 
128 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 The big man before him faltered out his story. Al- 
 fred listened gravely, sympathetically, as the story- ad- 
 vanced. Finally he came to comprehend that this man 
 was the father of the little lad that had interested him 
 so much, and the man of whom Stanley and Aunt 
 Sophronia had been telling him. 
 
 It was the same old story of a useless struggle against 
 the awful, burning appetite for drink which always 
 ended in failure. Alfred gathered that he thought his 
 family would be better off with him out of the way. 
 
 ''Now that is possibly true," Alfred said. ''Your 
 family might be better off with you out of the way than 
 to have you with them, the way you tell me you have 
 been living. But that is not the point. What effect 
 is this going to have upon your boy? Don't you think 
 it would be bad enough for him to have always to re- 
 member that his father was a drunkard without having 
 the additional disgrace of his becoming a suicide as 
 well? Now it seems to me that the thing for you to 
 do is to brace up. Oh, I know it's hard." He cut the 
 other off as he saw him about to speak. "And I don't 
 care how many times you have tried and failed, either. 
 The thing for you to do is to brace up." He repeated 
 the words emphatically as he took a seat on the log by 
 the other's side. "Say," he asked suddenly, "do you 
 
 believe in Christ?" 
 
 John Bennett looked at him blankly for a moment, 
 and then said: "Oh, I guess so. At least I used to 
 when I was a boy." 
 
 "Don't you now?" 
 
A SUDDEN CHANGE OF PLAN 129 
 
 ''Well, I guess I had just about forgotten all about 
 him." 
 
 ''Tell me what you know about him." 
 
 "They used to tell us in Sunday school that he was 
 the Son of God and that he came down here and was 
 killed." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said, "and what did he come for?" 
 
 "I think they said to save the people." The wretch 
 thought a moment and then shook his head. "But that 
 doesn't mean me," he said. "Christ never meant to 
 save me. I've been too bad for that." 
 
 "That's just where you are mistaken," the young 
 man answered him. "That does mean you. But of 
 course if you won't let him, he can't do anything for 
 you. That is the reason you have always failed. 
 You've always tried by yourself to quit drinking. You 
 should have asked Christ to help you. I suppose you 
 have not offered a prayer since you were a boy." 
 
 "No," John Bennett answered. "My wife sometimes 
 prays, but I can't remember that I ever did." 
 
 "Well, will you kneel down here now and let me 
 ask God to help you?" 
 
 The other nodded. Awkwardly he followed Alfred's 
 example and got down on his knees beside the log. 
 There, far removed from the world about them, where 
 the soft breezes whispered through the trees and the 
 birds sang unheeded, Alfred laid the matter before his 
 God. John Bennett was astonished, for never before 
 had he heard any man talk to God as to a friend ; and 
 the verv assurance with which the man spoke made him 
 feel that after all perhaps there was a God who cared. 
 
130 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 He listened as Alfred mentioned how this man beside 
 him had tried in his own strength to put from his life 
 that which degraded him ; how he had failed. He spoke 
 of the family whose lives were one long scene of hard- 
 ship and privation because of this thing which had 
 become too big for the man, and asked that he might 
 have help — help from the Christ whom he had for- 
 gotten, but who had not forgotten him ; help from the 
 angels who are ministering spirits to minister to those 
 who dwell upon the earth ; help from the Holy Spirit by 
 whom the Father drew all men unto Christ ; asked that 
 he might as a servant of God on earth be permitted 
 also to be united with that host of heaven in bringing 
 about the salvation of this soul. And, last of all, he 
 asked that the man might help himself, help himself 
 with all the strength of character he possessed. 
 
 When the prayer was ended John Bennett was in 
 tears. He had felt an influence, a power which had 
 accompanied it, quite new and incomprehensible to 
 him. 
 
 ''Now," Alfred said, ''I think we had better go 
 home and tell your wife about it, don't you?" 
 
 ''Do you think I can make it, sir?" his companion 
 asked doubtfully. 
 
 "No," Alfred answered emphatically. "You can't. 
 Not alone. You can do your best. After that, trust 
 Christ. Will you try?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir," the man answered eagerly. "I will 
 try." 
 
 "Don't forget to ask God to help you. Don't try to 
 do it alone," Alfred said as they moved off among the 
 trees. 
 
CHAPTER 15 
 THE EVENING ATTENDANCE GROWS 
 
 DOCTOR LAKEMAN and Spider had had a busy 
 morning. An urgent call had taken them several 
 miles into the country. Noontide found them 
 returning along the highway about a mile from the 
 Turkey Creek bridge. Spider, flecked with foam, can- 
 tered wearily. Stanley removed his hat and wiped 
 his brow. 
 
 Spider swerved slightly from the center of the road 
 and, brushing unexpectedly against the weeds which 
 framed the highway, started from their hiding place 
 droves of grasshoppers, which jumped with free and 
 easy leaps to neighboring weeds, where they swung 
 precariously as man and beast passed them by. 
 
 "Now this is more like it," Stanley murmured as 
 they rode under the shade of a large maple tree and 
 stopped. He took off his hat and fanned himself. 
 Spider sleepily drove the flies from her back with a 
 sweep of her long, black tail, lowered her head, and 
 seemed to sigh. Stanley laughed. "Oh, we're not sta- 
 tioned here for the afternoon," he said. "We haven't 
 had dinner yet." 
 
 However, so great is the power of suggestion, that 
 he jumped from the saddle and stretched himself luxu- 
 riously on the soft grasses at the foot of the tree, 
 where he lay dreamily Avatching a band of insects 
 
132 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 swarming in the sun. After a while he bestirred him- 
 self, jumped into the saddle, and urged the reluctant 
 animal once more into the heat of the dust-laden high- 
 way, as Spider supposed, homeward bound. 
 
 They had not ridden far until they came to a familiar 
 trail leading from the highway. Spider recognized that 
 trail and knew that home and food were not yet to be 
 considered. With meekly submissive air she turned 
 from the highway and cantered up to the little cottage 
 in the woods. 
 
 ''Spider, you're learning," Stanley said encourag- 
 ingly. ''You'll make a doctor's horse yet." 
 
 Spider rubbed her nose affectionately upon her mas- 
 ter's shoulder as he dismounted and led her farther into 
 the shade of the trees. 
 
 "There, you can nibble that grass," he said, "while 
 I run in and see the Bennett child. Thank goodness 
 there's no danger here, now." 
 
 A moment later Stanley stood in the cottage door. 
 "Why, Mrs. Bennett!" he exclaimed, "what is the 
 matter?" 
 
 He found her kneeling before a box in the corner, 
 with ghastly face, staring blindly into space. 
 
 "Mrs. Bennett," he said again when she did not an- 
 swer. 
 
 "Oh!" She staggered to her feet. "What has he 
 done?" 
 
 "What has who done?" he asked. "Try to tell me 
 calmly what has happened. Let me help you." 
 
 Mary Bennett leaned against the wall by the window, 
 her eyes wide with horror. Stanley saw her again bring 
 
THE EVENING ATTENDANCE GROWS 133 
 
 nerves and muscles under the control of her will. When 
 she spoke it was in a very quiet voice. ''Doctor Lake- 
 man, I'm afraid my husband has killed himself." 
 
 "Oh, surely not. Why do you think that?" 
 
 Then she told him of the depths of remorse into 
 which John Bennett sank when he had awakened in a 
 sober condition. 
 
 ' ' I never saw him like he was this morning, ' ' she said. 
 "He seemed almost desperate. But I thought he would 
 just go off and drink again as he has always done, to 
 drown his own remorse. Oh, I don't know what to do." 
 Her voice ended alm'ost in a wail. 
 
 "What makes you think he hasn't just gone off to 
 drink again? Perhaps he has." 
 
 Mary Bennett pointed to the box before which he had 
 found her kneeling. 
 
 "The gun is gone," she said. "And I found the door 
 leading to the kitchen locked. He evidently did not 
 want me to come into the room until after he had 
 succeeded in getting away." 
 
 "Do you know how long he has been gone?" Stanley 
 asked. 
 
 "I can't tell," she answered. "You see I have neg- 
 lected much of my work since baby was sick. I stopped 
 to water my flowers. I think I was not away more 
 than half an hour. He probably has been away about 
 that time." 
 
 "I see," Stanley said. "Do you know where he 
 would be most likely to go?" 
 
 "I can't tell in the least," she answered. "Some- 
 where in the woods, I suppose." 
 
134 THE CALL AT EVENING* 
 
 ''I'll see what I can do," he said. ''In the mean- 
 time, try to think you might be mistaken. Perhaps, 
 after all, it may not be so bad." 
 
 Stanley stepped to the bedside and hastily assured 
 himself that all was well with the child, then left her 
 with the promise that he would return often and let 
 her know how the search progressed. 
 
 "I can't think it will be so bad," he said as he left 
 her. He walked first to the lake shore and carefully 
 scanned the beach. There was no one in sight. Then 
 he entered the thicket just north of the cottage and 
 searched carefully all the stretch of forest between the 
 lake and the highway. 
 
 Once his heart almost stopped beating, as, standing 
 on the decayed trunk of a fallen tree, he caught a 
 glimpse of an old coat lying near a clump of bushes 
 a little to the left. A closer examination showed that 
 the garment had lain long in that spot, almost falling 
 to pieces as he endeavored to lift it. With a sigh of 
 relief he once more resumed his search. Finally, hav- 
 ing satisfied himself that John Bennett had not visited 
 that part of the woods, he returned to the cottage. 
 
 "Have you heard anything?" he asked Mrs. Bennett, 
 who stood in the doorway. 
 
 "Nothing," she replied. "I was — oh, listen!" 
 
 They were not mistaken. Voices were plainly dis- 
 cernible along the path. Stanley turned to the woman 
 in the doorway, a question in his eyes, but she was look- 
 ing intently at the point where the trail opened to 
 their view. 
 
 The voices were heard again. Stanley saw the face 
 
THE EVENING ATTENDANCE GROWS 135 
 
 of the woman light up with gladness and knew that she 
 had recognized one of the voices as that of her hus- 
 band. Then came the reaction. Her face took on once 
 more that indescribably weary look. The shoulders 
 seemed to droop with weariness and she steadied her- 
 self by holding to the doorcasing, but with it all came 
 the old brave smile. 
 
 ''It is just another of the experiences which seem 
 to belong to life, I think, doctor," she said. 
 
 It was now Stanley who seemed almost startled when 
 his eyes fell on the pair who suddenly came into view. 
 An exclamation of surprise fell from his lips as he rec- 
 ognized John Bennett's companion. Alfred raised his 
 hand in greeting to Stanley as they drew near. John 
 Bennett came forward with hanging head, not daring to 
 meet his wife's gaze. The woman left her position at 
 the door and went forward to meet them. 
 
 ''Oh, John!" she said, "you have given me such a 
 fright. Doctor Lakeman has been searching for you. 
 I thought — " The voice ended. She could not bring 
 herself to say the words. 
 
 "I found your husband in the woods," Alfred said. 
 "He seemed to be troubled. We have had a long talk, 
 he and I. We thought we would come and talk mat- 
 ters over with you. Mr. Bennett has decided, with the 
 help of God, to lay aside the thing which has caused 
 so muoh of his trouble and yours ; has decided to begin 
 again. I am right, am I not, Mr. Bennett?" 
 
 John Bennett nodded, but still did not look up. 
 Shame for all the wrongs of his life seemed to weigh 
 him down. Mary Bennett's eyes filled with tears. Her 
 
136 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 experiences of the past lessened her faith in his ability 
 to carry out his resolves, yet the pity of it all welled 
 up in her heart. She dared not trust her voice, but laid 
 her hand gently on her husband's arm. Stanley 
 stepped forward and held out his hand to John Bennett. 
 
 ''Shake hands, Mr. Bennett," he said. ''It will be 
 a hard fight, but I believe you can win out. I hope 
 you will let us be your friends." 
 
 John Bennett gave the doctor his hand, and for the 
 first time lifted his eyes. Stanley did not know that 
 his greatest fear lay in the fact that he had no friends 
 other than those who were ready to drag him down — 
 none to help him. Thus gratitude for the offer of 
 friendship lighted his eyes, and for a moment they 
 seemed to lose something of their deadness and take on 
 once more their luster of life. In that moment Stanley 
 realized that John Bennett had been a handsome man; 
 knew that submerged beneath the ravages of drink 
 were the remnants of what might have been a splendid 
 specimen of manhood. Stanley glanced at Alfred and 
 read in the expression of his face that the reassembling 
 and reasserting of that manhood was the work he 
 hoped to accomplish. It seemed a big undertaking. 
 
 When the young man left them two hours later, much 
 had been explained and much encouragement given. 
 John Bennett had arranged to return to his work and 
 Stanley had attended to the providing of provisions to 
 last them through the week which was to follow, when 
 John Bennett would again receive his wage. 
 
 "That will be the danger point," Stanley said to 
 Alfred when they were alone. 
 
THE EVENING ATTENDANCE GROWS 137 
 
 *'Yes," Alfred returned, a troubled look on his face. 
 ''It will be a hard pull." 
 
 They walked a short distance in silence, Stanley lead- 
 ing Spider, who could not understand why dinner 
 should be so much delayed. Finally Alfred spoke 
 again. 
 
 ''I have taken the liberty to ask him to come over 
 this evening and study with us. Do you mind? He 
 asked. 
 
 "Just the thing!" Stanley exclaimed. "That will 
 fill up his evenings. I'm so glad you thought to do it. 
 I wish Mrs. Bennett could come, too, but she can't leave 
 the baby, of course." 
 
 ' ' I think I will call and talk to her occasionally, ' ' Al- 
 fred said. ' ' 1 like to teach the gospel to those who have 
 so little of brightness in their lives. I always think it 
 is such as she in whom Christ must be especially in- 
 terested. 'Weary and heavy laden' — doesn't that seem 
 to fit her?" 
 
 "Couldn't describe her better," Stanley returned 
 earnestly. 
 
 And so it came about that John Bennett was added to 
 the little group who studied beneath the honeysuckle, 
 and that his wife daily looked forward to the coming of 
 the light-haired stranger who thereafter always ac- 
 companied Doctor Lakeman on his visits, and who 
 taught her the "way of life" more perfectly. 
 
CHAPTER 16 
 PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 
 
 WELL, I'm not so sure of that," Bill Lake- 
 man said. "I've never had so very much 
 faith in God myself. What little I've got 
 trom you the last few evenings just about represents 
 the sum total of all the faith I ever have had. Accord- 
 ing to that passage of scripture, I'm afraid my chances 
 will be slim after all." 
 
 Alfred laughed good-naturedly. "You've forgotten, 
 Mr. Lakeman," he said, "that faith cometh 'by hear- 
 ing.' Now according to your own statement, I don't 
 think you have heard a great deal about the plan of 
 salvation, so you cannot expect to have a great deal 
 of faith. Larson has said: 'In the acquiring of truth 
 we must begin by unfolding the truth we already 
 possess.' So it is with faith. To gain more faith we 
 must begin by adding to that which we already have, 
 no matter how little or undeveloped that faith may be. 
 No two persons can start the acquirement of faith 
 from exactly the same point. We must each start by 
 building upon our own foundation. 
 
 "One sacred writer has gone back to the beginning 
 of the matter and has said, 'If we only have a desire for 
 faith, if we will nourish that desire it will take root 
 and grow until it will become faith.' So we see that 
 in our advances toward God we may have a very small 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 139 
 
 starting point, but if we only have a desire to learn 
 of him and use that desire as a starting point, we may 
 obtain a knowledge of him. No greater hindrance to 
 progress can exist than the disposition to try to imitate 
 the understanding or development of another. So 
 you need not worry because your faith over night has 
 not grown into something wonderfully strong. I have 
 very little faith in this 'get-religion-quick' theory. It 
 too often works out like the * get-rich-quick' business; 
 that is, it doesn't work out. The Lord had a better 
 plan. He said, 'Line upon line, precept upon precept; 
 here a little and there a little. ' That plan runs through- 
 out all his works. This honeysuckle, for instance : It 
 grew. Constantly adding to that which it already had, 
 it has become strong and beautiful. It did not just 
 spring up. The trees in the grove there have acquired 
 their stature in the same way: gradual growth. It 
 is one of the supreme laws of God, yet in his spiritual 
 world they would have us disregard it entirely. Paul 
 has said, 'Grow in grace and in the knowledge of our 
 Lord.' " 
 
 With the coming of evening the little group had 
 gathered once more beneath the honeysuckle. The 
 soft breeze of evening stealing up from the creek 
 reached them, bringing with it the fragrance of flowers. 
 The birds still twittered among the trees of the grove, 
 contending with each other as they sought their rest. 
 Far below the melody of many voices arose from the 
 regions of the swamp and mingled with the subdued 
 murmur of the innumerable species of the insect world 
 homeward bound, the activities of another day past. 
 
140 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Then you do not believe that we become the chil- 
 dren of Grod by belief in Christ?" Jennie raised her 
 eyes incredulously to Alfred. 
 
 ''Belief in Christ is absolutely necessary to become 
 children of God," he answered. "There is no other 
 name given whereby man can be saved. But I some- 
 times think we are quite as much mixed on the subject 
 of belief in Christ as we are on many other subjects. 
 Belief in Christ means more than merely assenting to 
 the fact that Jesus is the Christ. Merely believing that 
 fact will not bring salvation. Christ gave us to under- 
 stand that the devils believed, but it did not bring them 
 salvation. Christ came into the world and instituted a 
 plan whereby men might, through obedience to this 
 plan, become the sons of God. A true belief in Christ 
 means not only assenting to, but applying the plan 
 Christ instituted." 
 
 "That reminds me," Bill Lakeman commented, "of 
 a little talk I had with Silas Perkins this afternoon. 
 I uiidertook to tell him that I did not agree with 
 Squire Parsons 's policy in the State legislature. 'What!' 
 he said. 'Don't you believe in Squire Parsons?' I told 
 him I didn't believe in any man whose policy would 
 mean so much indebtedness with such a small return." 
 
 "That's the thought exactly," Alfred said. "To be- 
 lieve in a man means also to believe in his policy or 
 plan. To-night, if it is agreeable to you all, I would 
 like to take up the study of the plan Christ gave, that 
 we might become the sons of God and joint heirs with 
 Christ." 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 141 
 
 ''That suits me," Stanley said, the others also assent- 
 ing. Alfred continued: 
 
 "Now I have here a sheet of paper for each of us, 
 and a pencil. You will see that I have written at the 
 top of each the question: 'What must I do to be 
 saved?' It will be our object to-night to answer that 
 question, at least in part." 
 
 "I've heard that question answered from the pulpit 
 a thousand times," Bill Lakeman broke in. "That's 
 all the preachers know how to preach about in this 
 town." 
 
 "I'm inclined to think, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred re- 
 turned, an amused smile playing about his lips, "that 
 there is just where the trouble lies. "You've heard it 
 answered 'from the pulpit.' I am glad to say we are 
 not answering questions 'from the pulpit' to-night." 
 
 "Oh, Stewart!" Stanle}^ said jestingly, "I'm afraid 
 some of these reverend gentlemen would think you 
 were a more dreadful infidel than they have thought 
 either father or I." 
 
 "I haven't the least doubt of it," Alfred answered. 
 "In that respect I am something like the Apostle Paul: 
 'After the manner which ye call heresy, so worship I 
 the God of my fathers.' " After a moment he con- 
 tinued: "Well, as we are not going to answer our 
 question from the pulpit, What must I do to be saved, 
 suppose we try to find the answer in the Bible. Miss 
 Burnside, you will find one of the requirements neces- 
 sary in Acts 17:31." 
 
 Jennie read: " 'Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.' '* 
 
 "Now, Stanley, read Romans 5:1." 
 
142 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ** 'Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace 
 with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.' " 
 
 **Now we have learned that belief or faith is our 
 first answer. Let's put it down on our paper. First, 
 belief or faith in Christ." 
 
 ''That answers your question, doesn't it? What's 
 the use of going any farther?" Bill Lakeman asked, 
 a telltale sparkle in his eyes, but a very serious ex- 
 pression on his face. If he had expected to disconcert 
 Alfred, he was mistaken. Smilingly ignoring his 
 question, that young man turned to Aunt Sophronia 
 and asked : ' ' Miss Lakeman, how do you make bread ? ' ' 
 
 "Why, I take some flour " 
 
 "Ah, we have learned," Alfred interrupted her, 
 leaning back and sighing with satisfaction, "how to 
 make bread. We will take some flour and rest in the 
 enjoyment of the anticipation of the splendid bread 
 we will have, using that one ingredient, which will bb 
 entirely sufficient." 
 
 Aunt Sophronia grunted. "It's fine bread you would 
 have," she said. "Not even my pigs would eat it, let 
 alone Bill and Stanley." 
 
 The party laughed heartily, but Alfred was suddenly 
 serious. It impressed him as truly sad that such obvious 
 truths of the physical world should be so easily under- 
 stood and accepted, while the same truths of the spir- 
 itual world should be so little known. 
 
 "It is equally true," he said, "that we cannot obtain 
 the great salvation without using Christ's entire 
 recipe. ' ' 
 
 Bill Lakeman nodded approval. Alfred paused a 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 143 
 
 moment, waiting for further questions, then continued : 
 ''Mr. Lakeman, will you read Acts 2:38?" 
 
 " 'Then Peter said unto them,' " he read, " 'Repent, 
 and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus 
 Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive 
 the gift of the Holy Ghost.' " 
 
 ' ' Now, Miss Lakeman, will you turn to Acts 17 : 30 
 for us?" 
 
 " 'And the times of this ignorance God winked at; 
 but now commandeth all men everywhere to repent.' " 
 
 "We find one thing especially emphasized in these 
 verses. What is it?" 
 
 "That we should repent, is it not?" Jennie asked. 
 
 "That we should repent," Alfred repeated. "Now 
 we can write on our papers: Second, repent. We 
 have now two answers to our question, What must 
 I do to be saved : Have faith or belief in Christ ; and 
 repent. Which do you think we should accept?" 
 
 "Well, I'd take them both or I wouldn't take either," 
 the old man said, emphatically. "IVe seen too much 
 of this accepting just a part of the Bible." 
 
 "Certainly," Alfred said. "It's just as sensible to 
 think of making our bread out of flour alone, as it is 
 to try to apply just one, any one, of the parts of the 
 plan Christ has given. Now, what next? Did you 
 notice, Mr. Lakeman, that something else seemed to 
 go with the repentance mentioned in the verse you read? 
 Will you look at it again?" 
 
 "It says repent and be baptized." 
 
 "All right. Now, Mr. Bennett, will you see if we 
 can find confirmation of that thought in Mark 16: 16?" 
 
144 THE CALL AT EVENING* 
 
 John Bennett looked through his Bible and back 
 again, and glanced helplessly at Alfred. Jennie, per- 
 ceiving his trouble, reached for his book and helped 
 him find the place. When it was found, he read with 
 ease. 
 
 '* 'He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.* '' 
 
 ' ' Now, what is our third requisite ? ' ' 
 
 ''Baptism," Stanley said. 
 
 "My church has always taught me that baptism 
 wasn't really necessary to being saved. Of course one 
 could be baptized if he really wished to be, but it was 
 not really essential to salvation." Jennie advanced 
 the objection timidly. Bill Lakeman and Stanley ex- 
 changed glances. They were curious to know how their 
 guest would answer her. 
 
 "Yes, I know that is a popular teaching," Alfred 
 said. "Perhaps we had better stop and examine it for 
 a while. There is a thought in Revelation 22 : 19. Miss 
 Burnside, will you read it?" 
 
 Jennie /ead: " 'And if any man shall take away 
 from the words of the book of this prophecy, G-od shall 
 take away his part out of the book of life, and out of 
 the holy city, and from the things which are written 
 in this book.' " 
 
 Jennie looked puzzled. She did not see the applica- 
 tion. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Lakeman, will you read Deuteronomy 
 12:32?" 
 
 " 'What thing soever I command you, observe to 
 do it: thou shalt not add thereto nor diminish from 
 it.'" 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 145 
 
 ** These two passages of scripture tell us how the 
 Lord feels toward any person who takes away from 
 his commandments. Now let us see. Stanley, will you 
 read Acts 10:48?" 
 
 ** 'And he commanded them to be baptized in the 
 name of the Lord.' " 
 
 "This," Alfred went on, ''in connection with Peter's 
 answer to the question, 'What shall we do?' when he 
 said, 'Repent and be baptized,' seems quite emphatic 
 to me. I challenge the right of any man or set of men 
 to take from these commandments. So I think, Miss 
 Burnside, that when your church or its pastors taught 
 you that baptism was not essential, they were guilty 
 of 'taking from' the commandments of God, and must 
 come under his condemnation." 
 
 "Whew! That's pretty strong!" Stanley said. 
 
 "No stronger than the Bible," Alfred answered. 
 "No man has the right to change the plan of Grod." 
 
 "I think you are right," Bill Lakeman said. "Per- 
 haps if men had not made so free trying to make over 
 the gospel of Christ to suit themselves, there wouldn't 
 be so many different churches in the world, nor so 
 many infidels, either. So much religious confusion is 
 enough to puzzle any man." 
 
 "Well," Alfred said laughing, "we'll just put 
 baptism down on our papers, anyhow. There are no 
 preachers here to tell us not to, and Christ thought 
 it was necessary. Third, baptism. There we have it 
 now. What is baptism? Miss Lakeman, will you read 
 Matthew 3:11?" 
 
 Aunt Sophronia hastily readjusted her glasses and 
 
146 THE CALL AT EVENING* 
 
 read: '' *I indeed baptize you with water unto re- 
 pentance: but he that cometh after me. . . he shall 
 baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire.' " 
 
 ''John seemed to have in mind," Alfred continued, 
 ' ' two divisions of baptism — that of water and the Holy 
 Ghost. Now, let's see what else we can find. Mr. Lake- 
 man, will you read John 3:5?" 
 
 *' 'Verilj^, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be 
 born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into 
 the kingdom of God.' " 
 
 ''Christ has the same thought. Baptism of water and 
 Spirit. Thus we see that baptism is twofold. Now, on 
 our papers, after our word 'baptism,' let us place a 
 brace and make two divisions: a. Water; b. Spirit. 
 We now have on our papers the following outline as 
 a result of our investigation : 
 
 " 'What must I do to be saved? 
 
 " '1. Have faith. 
 2. Repent. 
 
 a. By water. 
 
 b. By Spirit.^ 
 "Does that agree with what we all have? All right. 
 
 Now we will investigate more fully our first division — 
 by water. How do we get it? Mr. Bennett, will you 
 read Matthew 3:16?" 
 
 When Jennie had again found the place John Bennett 
 read: " 'And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up 
 straightway out of the water.' " 
 
 "Now, Miss Burnside, we would like to hear Acts 
 8:38, 39." 
 
 " 'And he commanded the chariot to stand still: and 
 
 '3. Be baptized. ] 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 147 
 
 they went down both into the water, both Philip and 
 the eunuch; and he baptized him. And when they 
 were come up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord 
 caught away Philip.' " 
 
 ''From these verses," Alfred continued, ''we learn 
 that both the one baptizing and the one to be baptized 
 go down into the water. So that is point one under 
 how it is performed — agoing down into the water. Now 
 for point two. Stanley, will you read Romans 6:4, 5?" 
 
 " 'Therefore are we buried with him by baptism into 
 death ; that like as Christ was raised up from the dead 
 by the glory of the Father, even so we also shall walk 
 in newness of life. For if we have been planted to- 
 gether in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in 
 the likeness of his resurrection.' " 
 
 "These verses give us points two and three: Point 
 two, burial ; point three, planting. We must be buried 
 or planted in the likeness of the death and resur ^ction 
 from the dead." 
 
 "Well, my baptism wasn't much like that, I can tell 
 you," Aunt Sophronia spoke up, looking over the top 
 of her glasses. "Three drops went on my head and one 
 on each shoulder." 
 
 "That wasn't much of a burial, was it?" Alfred 
 laughed. 
 
 "No, nor planting, either," Bill Lakeman said. "I'd 
 like to see the looks of my crop if I undertook to plant 
 corn that way." 
 
 "Yes, and I don't think I would like to be the health 
 officer if we buried people that way," supplemented 
 Stanley. 
 
148 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 *'Is that why we are immersed," Jennie asked, ''be- 
 cause the Bible says we are to be buried with Christ? 
 I never thought to ask why we were immersed when 
 I was baptized." 
 
 ''That is the reason," Alfred answered. "You see 
 we have just found out from the Bible that both the 
 candidate and the one performing the rite of baptism 
 go down into the water. Then the Bible says we are 
 buried or planted ; it speaks also of coming up out of the 
 water. Another place likens baptism to a birth. So 
 you see immersion is the only way that is in harmony 
 with the Bible." Alfred paused a moment thinking. 
 "Those things are not taught clearly enough," he con- 
 tinued. "Even the churches which practice baptism 
 seem to be afraid to explain it, fearing some one will 
 think they are teaching doctrine. I dare say, Miss 
 Bumside, your pastor did not even tell you why you 
 were baptized." 
 
 "Why, no," Jennie answered, "I don't think he did. 
 You see after we thought our sins had been forgiven 
 we were baptized, just to show that we were willing to 
 obey, I think." 
 
 "If it were not such a serious question," Alfred said, 
 "I think I should find the teachings of the world 
 along religious lines sometimes positively funny. . They 
 place Christ in the same position as an unwise mother 
 I once knew. Her son, Bobbie, obeyed her implicitly. 
 No matter what she asked him to do, he went immedi- 
 ately and tried to do that thing. Now that was all 
 very fine, for Bobbie had great confidence in his mother ; 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 149 
 
 but the time came when the mother was so proud of 
 her boy's obedience that she began to try to show him 
 off when company came. At first the boy was puzzled. 
 What object could be back of some of his mother's 
 commands? He obeyed, but a question was settling it- 
 self in his brain. Then, one day the boy understood: 
 his mother was just showing off his obedience. The 
 following day Bobbie and his friends were engaged 
 in a very important game of ball. Three boys were 
 on bases and Bobbie at the bat. Bobbie must win that 
 game. Company came, Bobbie's mother came to the 
 door. 'Bob-ee.' The call rang out clearly over the 
 field. Bobbie threw down his bat and went to the 
 house. The game was lost. When Bobbie reached his 
 mother's side she only said, 'Oh, I've changed my 
 mind. I don't want you now, dear, you can go back 
 to your game. ' Bobbie never again obeyed unquestion- 
 ingly. 
 
 ''Now is Christ like that? Does he try to show off 
 our willingness to obey him? or is there a reason for, 
 a something to be accomplished by, obedience to his 
 commands? Did Christ place the ordinance of baptism 
 in his church just to see if he could make us get wet 
 in our efforts toward blind obedience? I can't think 
 Christ is like that. No, he tells us why — tells us what 
 is accomplished by it. Stanley, will you read Acts 
 2:38?" 
 
 " 'Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be bap- 
 tized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for 
 the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of 
 the Holy Ghost.' " 
 
150 THE CALL AT EVENING. 
 
 ''You see Peter did not tell them to be baptized be- 
 cause 'they thought their sins were already remitted.' 
 He told them to be baptized for the remission of sins. 
 Now, Mr. Lakeman, will you read Mark 1:4? We will 
 then have another witness." 
 
 ' ' ' John did baptize in the wilderness, and preach the 
 baptism of repentance for the remission of sins.' " 
 
 "Now, one more, Miss Lakeman, Acts 22:16." 
 
 Aunt Sophronia read: " 'And now why tarriest 
 thou? Arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy 
 sins, calling on the name of the Lord.' " 
 
 "Well," Bill Lakeman said as he carefully studied 
 the point of his pencil, "I always thought the Bible 
 taught that it was the blood of Christ that washed 
 away sins. Now, you've got it here that it is baptism 
 in water. I'll declare, I don't know which you expect 
 us to believe." 
 
 "Both," Alfred asserted seriously; "it was the shed- 
 ding of Christ's blood that brought about his death. 
 It was through his death and burial that the bands of 
 death were broken and we are redeemed from the 
 grave. Paul says our baptism is a like figure of the 
 death, burial, and resurrection of Christ. So you see 
 the blood of Christ cleansing us from all sin and bap- 
 tism for the remission of sins are only two ways of 
 expressing the same thing, for the latter typifies the 
 former, 'a like figure,' as Paul puts it. Now, let's 
 examine our papers once more. We have learned that 
 water baptism is performed by, first, going down into 
 the water; second, coming up out of the water. It is 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 151 
 
 compared to, third, burial ; fourth, planting ;■ fifth, birth. 
 Now on our papers we will place another brace 
 after the word 'water.' In this brace we will 
 make two divisions, method or mode, and purpose 
 or object. After mode we will place the five points 
 mentioned above; after purpose, the words 'for the 
 remission of sins.' We may look from one end of the 
 Bible to the other and will find no other object 
 given for baptism." 
 
 "According to that," Jennie said, "our sins are not 
 forgiven when we are converted, but when we are 
 baptized. Then, Mr. Stewart, why do we go to the 
 altar and why do they pray there that our sins may 
 be forgiven? The minister told me when I was con- 
 verted to stand up and tell them that my sins had been 
 forgiven. ' ' 
 
 "I know," Alfred said. "I went through the same 
 experience myself once. "When I was only a child 
 I went forward at a revival meeting. The minister 
 told me to get up and tell the people my sins were for- 
 given and I did it because I didn't know any better. 
 Afterwards, when I began to study the Bible, I began 
 to see the lack of harmony. I discovered that was not 
 the Bible way. In the Bible I could not find a record 
 of any such proceeding " 
 
 * ' It isn 't there, ' ' Bill Lakeman interrupted. ' * There 's 
 not a mourner's bench in the whole Bible." 
 
 "I also made that discovery," Alfred continued. 
 ' ' When I did so I was puzzled ; then I began to doubt. 
 Afterward I learned better. Now our outline reads: 
 
152 
 
 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 WHAT MUST I DO TO BE SAVED? 
 
 1. Faith. 
 
 2. Repentance. 
 
 3. Baptism. 
 
 Water 
 
 Spirit 
 
 Method 
 
 or 
 /Mode 
 
 Object 
 
 1. Going down into. 
 
 2. Coming up out of. 
 
 3. Planting. 
 
 4. Burial. 
 
 5. Birth. 
 
 For the remission of 
 sins. 
 
 ''Now we are ready to study the baptism of the 
 Spirit. We will follow the same course. First we will 
 learn how or what ordinance is used, and why it is 
 given." 
 
 ''That baptism of the Spirit bothers me," Stanley 
 said. "I can't get that through my head. I went to 
 a revival meeting last winter where they said they had 
 an outpouring of the Holy Spirit, and I thought if that 
 was a baptism of the Holy Spirit I didn't want any of 
 it. They shouted, jumped up on their seats, one woman 
 lay down on the ground and rolled around awhile, and 
 finally fainted. It didn't look good to me." 
 
 ' ' We are told in the word of God, ' ' Alfred answered, 
 *'that many spirits have gone out into the world, and 
 we are commanded to try the spirits. We are also told 
 that the Spirit of God is not the author of confusion. 
 The condition you mentioned sounds like confusion to 
 me. God is the supreme intellect of the universe. When 
 we begin to look into the wonderful harmony of all 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 153 
 
 things, nature's serenity in peace, its magnitude in 
 disturbance, we can begin to comprehend in a limited 
 way the true significance of that intelligence. Now, 
 I can't imagine that wonderfully intelligent Being 
 prompting any person to get down and roll on the 
 ground. The very thought is repellent to intelligence. ' ' 
 
 ''Do I understand you," Bill Lakeman asked, 'Ho 
 say that all this supposed baptism of the Spirit which 
 usually accompanies revival services is a spirit of the 
 Devil?" 
 
 ''Not necessarily," Alfred answered. "It is quite 
 evident to me that the Devil is working, perhaps to 
 a greater extent than we can comprehend. However, 
 to say it is all of the Devil would be presumption. I 
 know there are people in the world who think that 
 whatever is not of God is of the Devil. I think that 
 is just as misleading as many other half truths that 
 are in the world. One sacred writer has ex- 
 pressed a more sensible view of the matter. He gives 
 us to understand that there are three sources from 
 which we can expect such things to come : God, man, 
 and the Devil. If they come from God, they will be in 
 harmony with God's law and we will thereby know 
 them. If they come from man, they may only reflect 
 the state of his nervous system, or an overdevelopment 
 of his imaginative powers. If they come from the Devil 
 and we study them closely enough, we will discover in 
 them that which leads us away from the truth or entices 
 us to do evil. I think those are the two great objects of 
 Satan." 
 
 "That looks reasonable to me," Bill Lakeman said. 
 
154 THE CALL AT EVENING. 
 
 ''I've seen folks get nervous enough to do most any- 
 thing under some conditions." 
 
 The company lapsed into silence. Alfred perceived 
 that they were ready to continue their study. 
 
 ''Well, Miss Burnside," he said, "suppose you start 
 us out on our study by reading Acts 8 : 17, 18. We 
 will see if we can discover how the baptism of the Spirit 
 is received, and with what ordinance." 
 
 " 'Then laid they their hands on them, and they re- 
 ceived the Holy Ghost. And when Simon saw that 
 through the laying on of the apostles' hands the Holy 
 Ghost was given, he offered them money.' " 
 
 "That will do," Alfred said. "Now, Stanley, read 
 Acts 19:6." 
 
 " 'And when Paul had laid his hands upon them, 
 the Holy Ghost came on them.' " 
 
 ' ' What are you driving at, young man ? ' ' Bill Lake- 
 man asked. "It looks to me like you are breaking into 
 unexplored territory. ' ' 
 
 "I can't see," Jennie spoke up timidly "how we can 
 have the Holy Ghost at all if it is to come by the laying 
 on of the apostles' hands. There are no apostles now." 
 
 "If we turn to 1 Timothy 4 : 14, " Alfred answered, 
 "we will learn that the laying on of hands was prac- 
 ticed not only by the apostles, but by the presbytery 
 of the church. Also in the ninth chapter of Acts we 
 read of Ananias who was not an apostle, using the 
 ordinance of the laying on of hands. The fifth chapter 
 of James also speaks of the elders as using it." « 
 
 "Well, that's a new one on me," Stanley said. 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 155 
 
 *'None of the presbytery of any church that I know 
 anything about does that." 
 
 ''That may be the reason," Alfred answered, smiling, 
 ''there is so little of the gift of the Holy Ghost manifest 
 in the world. Perhaps we have forsaken the law. We 
 are trying to study to-night the plan which Christ left 
 here. It seems to me that the law Christ left here 
 should be here to-day as he left it. If it is not, some- 
 body has been doing some changing. We have already 
 found out what the Lord thinks of those who 'take 
 away' anything from his plans. I would very much 
 prefer not to be one of them. Now on our papers, after 
 the baptism of the Spirit we can place the words, 'By 
 the laying on of hands.' " 
 
 "I'd like to ask you," Bill Lakeman said, "if Corne- 
 lius had hands laid on him. We read that the Holy 
 Ghost came on him, but I don't remember it saying 
 anything about the laying on of hands." 
 
 "We will need," Alfred answered him, "to dis- 
 tinguish between a baptism of the Spirit which is given 
 to the children of God, those who have named his name, 
 and the Holy Spirit which is given to lead men t 
 Christ. We are told that the Spirit of God lightens 
 every man who comes into the world. We also read 
 of the Spirit of God striving with men to lead them 
 to Christ, but that is quite a different thing from the 
 baptism of the Spirit, the abiding Comforter which 
 Christ promised to send to those who believed. We will 
 understand that fact more clearly as we study the 
 fruits of the Spirit. Now I think we are ready to 
 
156 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 learn the object of the baptism of the Holy Spirit. 
 Mr. Lakeman, will you read John 15:26?" 
 
 '' 'When the Comforter is come whom I will send 
 unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, 
 which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of 
 me.'" 
 
 "Now, Miss Lakeman," Alfred continued, ''will you 
 read Acts 5:32?" 
 
 " 'And we are his witnesses of these things; and so 
 is also the Holy Ghost, whom God hath given to them 
 that obey him.' " 
 
 "These two verses give us to understand that one 
 object of the Holy Spirit is to bear witness of Christ. 
 So that will be object number one. Let's put it on 
 our papers: To bear witness of Christ. Now, Mr. 
 Bennett, will you read John 16: 13?" 
 
 " 'Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he 
 will guide you into all truth : . . . and he will show you 
 things to come.' " 
 
 "Now we have object number two: 'To guide into 
 all truth.' Also object number three: 'The showing 
 of things to come.' " 
 
 "Why, that would be prophecy, would it not?" 
 Jennie asked. "We can't have prophecy now, can 
 w^e ? I know my church does not think we can. ' ' 
 
 "Well," Alfred said, "that was one of its missions 
 when it was first given. I cannot read where Christ 
 ever said it would lose its power. I know that the 
 world teaches now that the days of prophecy are 
 past. They seem to think that the Holy Spirit now 
 can only guide our thoughts (to regard it as a worn- 
 
PUTTING. THE MAP TOGETHER 157 
 
 out battery which needs recharging), but it was not 
 so in the days of old, and it is not so now. To make 
 that claim is only an acknowledgment that the baptism 
 of the Spirit has never been received. The Spirit 
 of God it not worn out. It is just as capable and 
 real to-day as when Christ said, 'He will show you 
 things to come.' " 
 
 Unconsciously the speaker let his own earnestness 
 vibrate in his voice. Bill Lakeman regarded him 
 narrowly, questioningly. '' Strange !" he muttered under 
 his breath. "Strange!" 
 
 Alfred went on: ''Now one more object, number 
 four. Stanley, will you read Romans 8 : 14-16 ? ' ' 
 
 " 'For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they 
 are the sons of God. . . . The Spirit itself beareth wit- 
 ness with our Spirit, that we are the children of God.' " 
 
 "Then the fourth object is that we may know that 
 we are the children of God. Now, let's look them over 
 again. First, the Spirit is to bear witness of Christ. 
 Second, to guide into all truth. Third, to show things 
 to come. Fourth, as a witness that we are the children 
 of God. If we stop to think deeply what each one 
 of those things mean, we will understand how im- 
 portant it it for us to have that Spirit." 
 
 "What I want to know is," Stanley said, "how are 
 we to know when we get that Spirit? I can't see that 
 from the verses we have read." 
 
 Alfred turned to his friend in response to his query. 
 'Stanley," he said, "you saw me to-day where you 
 "lad no thought of seeing me. How did you know me?'* 
 
 "Well," Stanley replied, "that crutch had a very 
 
158 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 familiar look, but I think it was more the way you 
 pushed back your hat and talked with that free hand. 
 It wouldn't take a Sherlock Holmes to identify you 
 when you get to talking." 
 
 Alfred blushed and laughed heartily at his own ex- 
 pense. He had long tried to overcome that tendency 
 to talk with his hands, but he would forget sometimes, 
 in his most earnest moments. 
 
 ''Then," he said, "I have certain characteristics by 
 which you may know me. Now, if we can discover 
 some of the characteristics of the Holy Spirit, perhaps 
 we may learn to identify it. Let us all turn to the 
 twelfth chapter of 1 Corinthians. In the fourth verse 
 we find these words: 'Now there are diversities of 
 gifts, but the same Spirit.' In verses seven to ten: 
 'But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every 
 man to profit withal. For to one is given by the Spirit 
 the word of wisdom ; to another the word of knowledge 
 by the same Spirit ; to another faith ... to another the 
 gifts of healing ... to another the working of miracles ; 
 to another prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; 
 to another divers kinds of tongues; to another the in- 
 terpretation of tongues.' Paul goes on to tell us that 
 it is the selfsame Spirit which divides to every man 
 severally as he will. Now I think it is safe to say that 
 as God is unchangeable, his Spirit, if given to-day, 
 would bestow the same gifts and have the same results 
 as when Christ was here. Now, Mr. Lakeman, will you 
 read Mark 16:17, 18?" 
 
 When Bill Lakeman turned the leaves of his great 
 Bible to the place directed, Alfred caught a glimpse 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 159 
 
 of heavy marks around the verses. Bill Lakeman had 
 evidently read them before. 
 
 '* 'And these signs shall follow them that believe: 
 In my name they shall cast out devils ; they shall speak 
 with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if 
 they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; 
 they shall lay hands on the sick and they shall re- 
 cover.' " 
 
 "Mr Stewart," the old man looked up from his 
 Bible almost sternly, ''you don't pretend to believe that, 
 do you? Why, I've asked a dozen preachers if those 
 signs followed them who believed their teachings. 
 They all said, ' No, that was not intended for our day ; 
 that is done away with.' I told them that I guessed in 
 that case the whole thing must have been done away 
 with, too. I never expected to find a preacher who be- 
 lieved those verses." 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman, I would like to ask you who it is 
 that those verses say the signs are to follow?" 
 "Them that believe." 
 
 "Believe what?" 
 
 "In Christ, I suppose." 
 
 "We have already agreed," Alfred went on, "that 
 a belief in Christ means more than just a belief that 
 Christ was the Son of God. We have been studying 
 to-night a part of the plan Christ came here to set in 
 motion, for the redemption of man. True belief in 
 him means a belief in and an acceptance of the princi- 
 ples he advocated, a compliance with his plan of 
 redemption. Anything short of this is not a belief. Con- 
 sequently those who only half believe are not entitled 
 to that promise." 
 
160 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Do you know, boy," Bill Lakeman said, "that you 
 are placing a whole big bunch of preachers in the un- 
 believing class?" 
 
 ''Well, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred answered, "when you 
 asked those preachers that question and received the 
 answer you did from them, where did you place them?" 
 
 Bill Lakeman laughed. "Just about where you did, 
 I think," he said. 
 
 "Yes," Stanley added, "father always told me that 
 about the only difference he could see between himself 
 and some preachers was that he had nerve enough 
 to acknowledge that he was an infidel and they 
 didn't." 
 
 "Now, let us look at our papers once more. Do they 
 look like this?" 
 
 WHAT MUST I DO TO BE SAVED? 
 
 1. Faith. 
 
 2. Repentance. 
 
 !1. Going down into. 
 2. Coming up out of. 
 3. Planting. 
 4. Burial. 
 5. Birth. 
 
 Object -J For the remission of sins. 
 
 3. Baptism. 
 
 How -j Laying on of hands. 
 
 Snirit J ( ^' Witness of Christ. 
 
 2. To guide into all truth. 
 For ^ 3. To show things to come. 
 4. Witness that we are the 
 children of God. 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 161 
 
 ''When I was in school," Alfred went on, ''we used 
 to do sums in arithmetic, but we never handed in our 
 papers until we had proven our answers. So I think 
 we had better prove our answers before we depend 
 too much on our papers to-night. In order that we may 
 do that, let us turn to Hebrews 6:1. I will read ; notice 
 carefully: 'Therefore leaving the principles,' Stanley, 
 what do you understand principles to be?" 
 
 "Why, a principle is a fundamental law or truth, 
 that from which other laws or truths are derived." 
 
 "Very good. Now notice the wording: 'Therefore 
 leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us 
 go on unto perfection; not laying again the founda- 
 tion.' We see by this that Stanley is right, that there 
 are certain fundamental laws, or a foundation. Now 
 let us see what it is 'of repentance from dead works.' 
 We have found that we are right in one point. Re- 
 pentance is a part of the principles or foundation. 
 Let us check it on our papers, 'and of faith toward 
 God.' Right again. We may check faith 'and the 
 doctrine of baptisms.' Now we may check our bap- 
 tisms of water and Spirit, 'and the laying on of hands.' 
 Let us check that. So we are right so far as our study 
 has gone, and have proven our answers." 
 
 "Well," Bill Lakeman said, his head on one side as 
 he earnestly regarded the paper before him, "I think 
 that sounds all right, but I'm just going to go over 
 that again to-morrow myself. I've always found con- 
 tradictions in the Bible; I can't think the thing really 
 fits together so well as that." 
 
 Stanley laughed and glanced at Alfred who had 
 
162 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 arisen from his seat in a manner to suggest that the 
 study was ended for that night. 
 
 ''What is the matter, father?" he asked. ''Does it 
 begin to look like a map of the United States?" 
 
 "It begins to look like a map of something," Bill 
 Lakeman answered. 
 
 Jennie folded her paper and slipped it into her Bible. 
 "I'm like Mr. Lakeman," she said. "I think I shall 
 go over that again to-morrow. I took all the references. 
 I want to be sure it is all in my Bible by daylight," 
 she ended as she smilingly drew on her riding gloves. 
 
 "You don't think I have bewitched your Bible, do 
 you?" Alfred asked, joining in her pleasantry. 
 
 "You never can tell," she called back as she tripped 
 lightly down the path to where Daisy stood at the 
 stoop. Alfred gazed after her dreamily. So great was 
 his abstraction that he did not hear Stanley speak his 
 name. Bill Lakeman was talking to John Bennett so 
 he did not hear his son say, with a peculiar sparkle in 
 his dark eyes, "I don't think the Bible was the only 
 thing bewitched to-night." 
 
 Alfred's return to consciousness was complete. Blush- 
 ing furiously, he dared not meet his friend's scrutiny. 
 
 "Never mind, old man," Stanley said, laying his 
 hand on Alfred's shoulder and striving vainly to keep 
 the laughter confined to his eyes, "when I have an 
 opportunity I'll tell you some of my own experiences 
 along those lines." 
 
 "She's a fine girl," Alfred ventured timidly. 
 
 "Sure she is," Stanley agreed. "There's only one 
 
PUTTING THE MAP TOGETHER 163 
 
 finer in all the world." And the friends laughed in 
 perfect understanding. 
 
 After Jennie had ridden away Alfred stood at the 
 gate and talked to John Bennett. "Don't give up," he 
 said earnestly. "You can win." 
 
 "I'll be working again to-morrow," John Bennett 
 answered. Then, after a moment he asked falteringly, 
 "When pay night comes will you come down to the mill 
 and walk home with me? We are paid each Tuesday." 
 
 ' ' Why, certainly I will, ' ' Alfred returned. ' * We can 
 arrange that nicely." 
 
 And so another day with its record drifted into the 
 labyrinth of the past. 
 
CHAPTER 17 
 AUNT MARIA'S FAITH 
 
 WHEN JENNIE awoke the morning following, it 
 was with a lighter heart than she had ex- 
 perienced for many days. She sprang from 
 her bed with a song on her lips, and a few minutes later 
 greeted her father in the breakfast room with such a 
 cheerful countenance that that gentleman was surprised 
 out of some of his stolidity and joked heartily with his 
 daughter. 
 
 Aunt Maria, the old colored family servant, entering 
 with a tray of fruit for the breakfast table, caught sight 
 of Jennie and exclaimed with the easy familiarity born 
 of long and faithful service : 
 
 ''I do declar', Mis' Jennie. Youse lokin' mighty pert 
 dis morning. I do beleeve you all got a new beau." 
 
 ''Now, Aunt Maria," Jennie remonstrated, ''you 
 know better. Look at the sunshine out there. Just 
 hear how glad the birds are this morning. Why 
 shouldn't I look pert?" 
 
 "Well, it am strange," the old woman soliloquized, 
 "how much gladder the birds am on some mornings 
 than they am on others, and how much brighter the 
 sun shines on some sunshiny mornings than it do on 
 others." 
 
 "Now, Aunt Maria," Jennie laughed reproachfully, 
 "I'm afraid you are getting deep." 
 
AUNT MARIA'S FAITH 165 
 
 ''I was going to tell you some news, Jennie," Marion 
 Burnside said, ''but perhaps you have already heard; 
 maybe that's why you're glad." 
 
 ' ' No, I have heard no news, ' ' Jennie answered. " Is it 
 good news? Please tell me." 
 
 "Very good news," her father responded, "but I 
 think I will not tell you at present. ' ' 
 
 "Oh, father, do," Jennie begged. 
 
 But Marion Burnside was obdurate and Jennie 
 pleaded playfully, but in vain. 
 
 As Marion Burnside arose from the table he looked 
 at Jennie seriously from under his heavy brows. 
 
 "If you will come down to the office to-day," he said, 
 "I will give you your allowance. I think you will be 
 needing some gowns soon." 
 
 "Why, father!" Jennie looked up in surprise. It 
 was the first time since she could remember that he had 
 made a suggestion in regard to her wardrobe. "I don't 
 think I need a thing. Besides, don't you think you 
 are really allowing me too much? I don't spend it all 
 and there is so little occasion for the wearing of fine 
 dresses here in Leesburg. It almost seems a waste of 
 money to buy them." 
 
 As Jennie spoke she arose from the table and followed 
 her father to the door. 
 
 "Nevertheless," he replied with a tone of finality, 
 as he drew on his gloves preparatory to leaving, "I 
 want my daughter to be well dressed." 
 
 With that he left them. Jennie walked into her own 
 little parlor and sank thoughtfully into the divan by 
 the low window. She was puzzled. Why was her 
 
166 
 
 THE CALL AT EVENINGI 
 
 father suddenly so anxious about the matters of her 
 dress? He had never even hinted before that he was 
 displeased with the plainness of her gowns. She glanced 
 
 "De (Jood Book say, 'God is love.' I know 
 he h'ars my pra'rs. Dat's enough for me." 
 
 across to where her figure was reflected in the large 
 mirror which made up a part of the furnishings of the 
 room, and seemed to impart that air of elegance which 
 was the pride of Marion Burnside 's heart. She studied 
 carefully the trim little morning dress she was wearing. 
 She failed to note that it brought out all the graceful 
 curves of her figure or that the arms below the soft 
 fullness of the sleeves looked delightfully well rounded, 
 
AUNT MARIA'S FAITH 167 
 
 and she did not see that the folds of filmy lace which 
 fell back from her throat softened her features and 
 enhanced the delicate fullness of her neck. She only 
 realized that it was such a dress as any of her girl 
 friends could afford to wear; knew that it carefully 
 avoided those extremes dictated by fashion which were 
 so abhorrent to her. 
 
 ''Oh, well," she said, ''it's just one of father's whims, 
 he'll soon forget it." 
 
 "Aunt Maria," Jennie turned from the contempla- 
 tion of her reflection in the mirror as the old lady en- 
 tered, "what do you think of God?" 
 
 "Law, chile!" Aunt Maria stopped short in astonish- 
 ment, "what foh you ask dat question? Don' you hear 
 de preacher tell all 'bout him?" 
 
 "I know. Aunt Maria," Jennie laughed. "I know 
 what the preacher says, but I want to know what you 
 think." 
 
 "Now, honey," the old woman remonstrated, "you 
 know yo' ole mammy don' understan' all dem things. 
 De Good Book say, 'God is love.' I know he h'ars my 
 pra'rs. Dat's enough for me." 
 
 "That's just it, auntie; you asked me why I was so 
 glad this morning," Jennie answered. "It's because I've 
 found out that 'God is love.' I have never understood 
 that before." 
 
 After a moment's quiet thought she asked suddenly: 
 
 "Auntie, do you believe my mother is in hell?" 
 
 "Yo' mammy? Why, Mis' Jennie! What God send 
 yo' mammy to hell for? God only sends the wicked to 
 hell. Yo' mammy war not wicked. Don' I know? 
 
168 THE CALL AT EVENING! 
 
 Wa'n't I with yo' mammy since she war a girl? Don' 
 yo' go an' talk dat way 'bout God." 
 
 ''I know, auntie; I know now," the girl answered, 
 ' ' but I didn 't know. That 's why I 'm glad. ' ' 
 
 ''Law, chile." The old woman laid her hand affection- 
 ately on Jennie's head. Memories of the past softened 
 her voice to infinite sadness. ''We all learn 'bout Him 
 through suffering." 
 
 "Did you learn -it through suffering, auntie?" 
 
 "Yes, honey, dis po' ole heart plum broke befo' I 
 learned to lay my burdens on de Lord." 
 
 Such a world of sadness accompanied the words of 
 the black woman, that Jennie felt her heart melt in 
 sympathy. She remembered Aunt Maria since child- 
 hood as a family fixture. She had scarcely realized that 
 life in passing had left its light of joy and its shadow 
 of sorrow on her heart ; and that it was a very human 
 heart which beat under the black exterior. 
 
 "Tell me about it, auntie," she said very tenderly. 
 Then added quickly, "No, don't if it will hurt you to 
 do so." 
 
 "De hurt am dere anyhow, chile," the old servant an- 
 swered. "Tellin' don' make hit no worse. Besides 
 de good Lord have let de pain grow dull, even if hit 
 can't be taken away. Yes, he do help to make hit dull." 
 
 The old lady was silent a moment and then went 
 on in a quiet, even tone : 
 
 "Hit begun back before de war," she said. "I was 
 sold into a family to be the wife of another slave." 
 
 "Auntie!" Jennie exclaimed, horror ringing in her 
 
AUNT MARIA'S FAITH 169 
 
 voice. "Without finding out if you were willing? Did 
 they force you to marry?" 
 
 "Law, chile," the old woman laughed mirthlessly, 
 "dey didn't ask us in dem days, '-Am you willin'?' But 
 law, honey, I loved him from the minute I set eyes on 
 him, an' I war glad. He wasn't none of dem low- 
 down niggahs. He had de kindest voice I ever heard. 
 An' I felt like my troubles war over. Dey gin us a 
 little cabin back in de woods, an' Sam he worked on 
 ole massa's plantation. 
 
 ' ' Dem war de happiest days ob my life, honey. Sam 
 war always singin'. I kin hear his voice yet, rollin' 
 out over de cotton fields. 
 
 "Ole massa war always smilin,' an' de missus — " 
 The old lady shook her head. "We loved 'em, honey, 
 and dey war mighty good to us. 
 
 "When little Sam war born, law, honey, but big Sam 
 war proud. 'Little Sam,' dey said, looked 'jis like his 
 pa,' an' big Sam sang louder dan ever. 'Pears like he 
 war always singin' dem days. 
 
 "When little Sam growed older, ole massa taught 
 him to walk. I didn't know what war goin' on, for 
 ole massa kept him over at de big house mos' all de 
 time, but I warn't worried. 
 
 "One evenin', it was little Sam's birthday, Sam an' 
 me war settin' befo' de cabin do', Sam a pickin' his 
 banjo an' a-singin'. Ole massa with de missus come 
 a-walkin' up with little Sam in his arms. 
 
 " 'Look, Maria,' ole massa said, an' he set little 
 Sam down 'bout ten feet away from me. 
 
 " ' Go to yo ' mammy, Sammy, ' de missus said. 
 
170 THE CALL AT EVENINQ 
 
 ''An' he came toddlin' like he war mighty scared, 
 but walkin' straight to me. Hit war hard to tell which 
 war de proudest, ole massa or big Sam. 
 
 "De missus took outen a little box she war a carryin' 
 in her han', a locket an' chain, all gold an' shiny, an' 
 fastened hit aroun' his neck. I war mighty proud, den, 
 for none of de odder niggers had gold chains an' lockets 
 for dere babies. Hit had his name engraved on, 'Sam 
 Turner,' written in de gold. 
 
 " 'Maria,' de missus said, 'dis pickaninny am de 
 light ob two homes.' 
 
 "So de time went by. When little Sam war four 
 years ole, his daddy taught him to sing, an' dey used 
 to set in de evenin' befo' de cabin do' an' sing, an* 
 ole massa an' de missus would come over an' listen. 
 
 "Little Sam had worn a trail of his own down through 
 de cottonwoods, across de brook to de big house. 
 
 "Den a change come. One mornin' ole massa didn't 
 get up, an' befo' night de missus war left alone. After 
 dem days, big Sam didn't sing no mo' in de cotton 
 fields, an' at evenin' he would sit by de cabin do' with 
 little Sam on his knee an' look out into de cottonwoods. 
 One evenin' he come home wid his eyes lookin' big 
 an' scared, just like li'l Sam when he war walkin' to 
 me dat day; but he only said young Massa Charles 
 war a comin' home to help his mammy run de planta- 
 tion. Massa Charles had run away from home years 
 befo' an' nearly broke the ole folks 's hearts. I didn't 
 know why, but I felt again like I did in dem days befo* 
 I knew Sam. But law, honey, I knew de missus would 
 never sell one of us offen de ole plantation, so I tried 
 
AUNT MARIA'S FAITH 171 
 
 to be glad an' to think how I would feel if hit ^y3iv 
 my boy, Sam, a comin' home after all dem years. Law, 
 honey, things went bad enough; but Sam an' me diden' 
 say anything, fo' de missus' sake, not even when Massa 
 Charles would kick li'l Sam. One day, when li'l Sam 
 war six years ole, I was a passin' de window an' 
 heard Massa Charles say to de missus, and he war a 
 lookin' at li'l Sam: 'Dis place needs fixin' up mighty 
 bad, mother; why don' you sell dat boy?' Law, honey, 
 I nearly drapped the crock o' milk I war a carryin' to 
 de cellar, and I thought I would scream; but I heard 
 de missus answer him: ''I'll never do hit, Charles; not 
 one of them shall ever be sole while I live. ' 
 
 "Law, honey, in all dem happy years I had nearly 
 forgot I war a slave, and while I knew de missus would 
 keep her word, de old fear of bein' sole would come 
 back, an' I couldn't keep it off. Not for myself or big 
 Sam, I knew we would never be sole offen de plantation. 
 But li'l Sam, oh, I would a heap ruther have thought 
 of bein' sole myself. But, den, de missus had said she 
 would never sell him, so I tried to forget it an' be 
 cheerful an' happy again. I knew den why big Sam 
 never sang no mo' in de cotton field, an' why he looked 
 off in de evenin's at de cottonwoods. 
 
 ''One day, when li'l Sam war eight years ole, I war 
 a sittin' by de cabin do', sewin' on some things fo' 
 de missus, an' a waitin' fo' big Sam to come home to his 
 supper. Li'l Sam war playin' horse with a stick out 
 under de maple tree, when I saw big Sam come hurryin' 
 from de big house, takin' li'l Sam's short cut through 
 de trees, an' I knew somethin' war wrong. 
 
172 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ** 'Maria," he called to me, 'come quick; de missus 
 am a dyin'. 
 
 *'I drapped my sewin' on de groun' at my feet, 
 steppin' on de 'white muslin as I went over it, an* 
 thinkin' of nuthin' but gettin' to de missus. But it war 
 too late. De missus war propped up in Massa Charles 's 
 arms, an' a drawin' her las' breath. I could see her 
 tryin' to say, 'Charles, don't,' but dat war all. We 
 couldn't understan' no mo', and she war gone. Law, 
 honey, I knew what dat meant. When hit war over, 
 Sam an' me went back to de cabin. Neither of visi 
 spoke, but we knew our hearts war broke. 
 
 "You kin guess de res', honey. When de estate war 
 settled up, li'l Sam war sole. I tol' him befo' dey took 
 him away, to hide his locket in de groun' or anywhere 
 to keep hit, so he would aways know his name, no 
 matter how much hit might be changed. If dey diden' 
 kill him, I s'pose he's somewhar in de world to-day. 
 But I don' ever 'spect to find him. Dat's why I look 
 forward to de day of reunitin', on de odder shore." 
 
 "Oh, Auntie Maria," Jennie exclaimed, "to think 
 I have lived with you all these years and never knew. 
 How selfish I have been; so much wrapped up in my 
 own sorrow, not to see something of yours." 
 
 "Law, honey, you an' yo' mammy been a comfort 
 to me. You ain't got nothin' to blame yo'se'f fo'. Dat's 
 a long time in de pas' now, honey, an' de good Lord 
 dulled de hurt. No, honey, yo' been a comfort to yo' 
 ole auntie." 
 
 "Aunt Maria," Jennie asked softly, "what became 
 of big Sam?" 
 
 The old woman shook her head. 
 
AUNT MARIA'S FAITH 173 
 
 *'He warn't no good in de cotton field, or aroun' de 
 plantation after li'l Sam war gone. At de nex' big 
 auction sale what took place, lie war sole, too. An' I 
 war kep' to look after de big house. 
 
 ''One night when Massa Charles was fas' asleep, I 
 slipped over to de li'l cabin an' set hit on fire. I 
 know hit war wrong, but I couldn't bear to see hit 
 there, so deserted like. After that I never looked over 
 at de cottonwoods. Sometimes in de middle ob de 
 night, I could har de wind a moanin' through 'em an' 
 I prayed de good Lord to send de light ob day." 
 
 The old lady paused reflectively, then went on in her 
 quiet, even voice : 
 
 "Big Sam I know am dead. But, honey, I know hit 
 will all be straightened out in de nex' worl'. An' dat 
 am almos' here. I kin almos' hear de roarin' of de 
 ribber. Now, honey, don' yo' go an' feel so bad. Dis 
 ole woman's troubles am almos' over. Don' yo' worry." 
 
 "Oh, Auntie Maria," Jennie murmured. 
 
 "Now, Mis' Jennie, yo' ole auntie had no business 
 for to go an' make yo' feel bad. Yo' daddy want yo' 
 to come down to de office to-day, an' get yo'self some 
 fine dresses. Yo' run along now, honey, an' don' yo' 
 worry none 'bout dis ole woman." 
 
 "This much I know, auntie," Jennie said; "you are 
 a better Christian than I. My faith in God is not 
 nearly as strong as yours." 
 
 "Law, honey chile, yo' jes wait until yo' am seventy 
 years ole. Yo' faith in God will be stronger." 
 
 "Auntie," Jennie exclaimed in astonishment, "are 
 you seventy years old?" 
 
174 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Sure am, chile ; diden' I tole yo' I war married befo' 
 de warT' 
 
 ''Well, well," Jennie said, "I will never be so strong 
 and useful when I am seventy, I'm sure." 
 
 "Yo' run along now, honey," the old woman said, 
 rising, ' ' while I go arter dat gal in de kitchen. ^ I do 
 declar', dese niggers am afraid to work nowadays. 
 Tears like dey's mighty lazy." 
 
 "Now, auntie," Jennie said, as she started up the 
 stairs, "don't scold Annie; she does real well, I think." 
 
CHAPTER 18 
 A FATHER'S ADVICE 
 
 SQUIRE PARSONS was just emerging from Marion 
 Burnside's private office when Jennie entered. 
 He stepped aside gallantly and held the door open 
 for her, giving her a beaming smile as he did so. 
 Jennie, whose mind was occupied with other matters, 
 failed to notice that his attitude was very gracious and 
 his smile much warmer than usual. She only thanked 
 him and stepped within. 
 
 Marion Burnside sat at his glass-covered mahogany 
 desk, beaming affably upon the stenographer (a very 
 unusual occurrence) to whom he was dictating. When 
 Jennie entered he swung round in his ponderous chair 
 and smilingly motioned her to a seat opposite him. 
 Smiles on the part of Marion Burnside were very rare, 
 and Jennie experienced something of the feeling of as- 
 tonishment which rested upon the little stenographer, 
 who still, with pencil poised, waited for Marion Bum- 
 side to continue his dictation. 
 
 ''You may go. Miss Field,'' he said, permitting for 
 the first time in his life a conversation with his 
 daughter to interrupt the steady flow of his business. 
 
 When she had gone, he reached into his desk and 
 pulled out a large check book, and began turning its 
 pages. 
 
 "Jennie,'' he said, "I have raised your allowance a 
 
176 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 trifle, so you need not hesitate in any purchase yoa 
 desire to make in regard to clothing. I think this will 
 cover." 
 
 Jennie gasped when she took the proffered check. 
 The amount was almost double that which he was ac- 
 customed to giving her. 
 
 "Whatever other faults Marion Burnside possessed, 
 he had always provided amply, too amply sometimes, 
 Jennie thought, for those dependent upon him. He 
 did not know that for years Jennie had not used all 
 the money he had given her; that she had formed a 
 habit of dropping into a box in her trunk whatever 
 was left over from one allowance period to another. 
 There was no forethought in this matter. In her mind 
 it had been for future needs, but that time of need had 
 never come. She had not taken the trouble to count 
 it; in fact, the box was entirely forgotten except when 
 there was money left over. Had Marion Burnside 
 known of this he would have been astonished at his 
 daughter's lack of business caution. 
 
 ''Do you wish me to get something special — some- 
 thing expensive, father?" she asked, not a little 
 puzzled. ''I can think of nothing I really need, and, 
 father," this with hesitation, ''I don't really like to 
 dress better than my friends. They like and under- 
 stand me better if I don't." 
 
 ''That's just the trouble, Jennie," he said, not smil- 
 ingly now, but sternly, "you are not exclusive enough. 
 I have noticed for some time this tendency of yours 
 to keep on the level with your friends. I don't like 
 it. You should remember that your condition in life 
 
A FATHER'S ADVICE 177 
 
 is quite different from theirs. Now, I'll tell you what 
 I have done, and I trust you to carry out my wishes. 
 There is a salesman in town with a fine line of dresses. 
 I want you to pick out several, and I want them selected 
 with a view to style. Also I want you to have some 
 party gowns." 
 
 ''Party gowns!" Jennie exclaimed, ''why, father!" 
 
 "I know, Jennie," Marion Burnside went on, "I 
 know you dislike parties. When your mother lived 
 she never compelled you to go, which was to your great 
 detriment even as a child. But I think the time has 
 come when you should give these things more of your 
 attention. You will be married some day, and I mean 
 that you shall marry within your station, and you will 
 need to give some heed to the social end of your hus- 
 band's home." 
 
 "It will be time enough to think of those things when 
 they come, ' ' Jennie returned. ' ' I can 't see why I should 
 attend these tiresome parties now. I haven't any 
 husband's home with a social end to look after." 
 
 Marion Burnside had arisen and was pacing the 
 office floor. He stopped now beside Jennie 's chair, with 
 hands thrust deep in his pockets, and glared down at 
 her. 
 
 "When the time comes it will be too late. Besides, 
 how do you expect to get that husband? Do you 
 think he will just come along and pick you up? Let 
 me tell you, young lady, that is where husbands are 
 caught, at parties. So I want you not only to attend 
 them, -but to give them." 
 
 "Am I to judge by that," Jennie asked, repulsion 
 
178 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 creeping into her tones, ''that you want me to 'catch' 
 a husband?" 
 
 "You are not 'to judge' anything, only do as I tell 
 you," Marion Burnside said with finality. 
 
 Jennie knew that the discussion was ended, knew 
 that he would never mention it again, but would expect 
 her to obey. The brightness had gone out of her face 
 when she arose. 
 
 "If that is all," she said, "I will run upstairs a 
 moment and see Cynthia." 
 
 ' ' That is all, ' ' he said, ' ' only I think that one of the 
 girls who labors in my factory is hardly the companion 
 for my daughter. ' ' 
 
 "There's no better girl living than Cynthia Brown, 
 father," Jennie returned with some heat. 
 
 "It's not a matter of character," he said; "it's a 
 matter of standing; but go on. We'll talk of that some 
 other time.'* 
 
 Jennie beat back a tendency to tears as she ascended 
 the stairs. When she passed the office doors all evidence 
 of luxury ceased. Here amid the hum of machinery 
 and the clatter of the voices of the workers, only the 
 direst necessities were seen. Great wooden tables were 
 piled high with cloth of every description. She passed 
 around these and crossed the room behind the cutters' 
 table where she nodded brightly to two men, who with 
 great knives cut away at the cloth piled high before 
 them. Winding around the pressers' tables she came 
 to the long rows of machines, at which the girls stitched 
 and gossiped. Well at the end of one of these rows sat 
 a girl who was doing neither. Her machine was idle. 
 
A FATHER'S ADVICE 179 
 
 the seam under her needle half completed. One shapely 
 hand held it in place, while t-he other, reaching under 
 the arm of the machine steadied the cloth as it came 
 through. In that attitude she had stopped and was 
 gazing dreamily out of the window on to the top of a 
 tar-covered roof beyond. The light of the window be- 
 hind her fell over a wealth of golden-brown hair and 
 lighted the profile of her face. 
 
 ''I'm going to have you sit like that for a picture 
 sometime," Jennie said, as she dropped into a vacant 
 chair beside her friend. 
 
 ''Oh, Jennie, I'm so glad to see you," Cynthia ex- 
 claimed. "I've been waiting to talk to you for so 
 long." 
 
 "I haven't seen you for a whole week, have I?" 
 Jennie returned, laughing. "That is a long time." 
 
 "Well, at any rate, I do want to talk to you," Cyn- 
 thia replied. 
 
 "I came to ask you to come home with me to dinner," 
 Jennie said. "Father is having his lunch down tows 
 with Squire Parsons. We'll have the table all to our- 
 selves. Will you come?" 
 
 ' ' Gladly, ' ' Cynthia answered. ' ' I don't have to work 
 this afternoon. We are all caught up with the pressers. 
 I've made just fifteen cents this morning." 
 
 "Goodness," Jennie said. "Well, finish up what you 
 have. I'll go down and borrow one of father's stenog- 
 raphers for a little while and then we'll go home to- 
 gether. ' ' 
 
 Jennie did not tell her friend of the letter she dic- 
 tated that day. Indeed she mentioned it to no one. 
 
180 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 but was keenly disappointed about two weeks later, 
 when a letter came to her which read: 
 
 ' ' Dear Miss Burnside : Your letter received. Contents 
 carefully noted. We would be glad to serve you, but 
 consider the case hopeless. No record was ever kept in 
 regard to the selling of slaves. They were sold and 
 resold, often with name changed. It is therefore use- 
 less to take up the work of tracing them. 
 
 *'We regret very much that we can be of no service 
 to you in this matter. 
 
 ''Very respectfully yours, 
 
 ''Milton Wadbaker, 
 
 ' ' Attorney-at-Law. 
 "Lexington, Tennessee." 
 
CHAPTER 19 
 JENNIE LEARNS OF A SCHEME 
 
 DURING the walk home and the mealtime follow- 
 ing, Jennie noticed a peculiar abstraction of 
 mind quite unlike the usual attentive alertness 
 of her friend. When they were seated on the wide 
 veranda and the silence had become noticeable, Jennie 
 asked suddenly: ''What is it, dear? Can't you tell 
 me?" 
 
 Cynthia started, then said with a forced laugh: 
 "Why, it's nothing, Jennie. I was just thinking, that's 
 all. Even a featherhead like myself is supposed to 
 think once in a while." 
 
 **Now, dear, I know you are just evading. How- 
 ever, I don't want you to tell me unless I can be of 
 some help." 
 
 ''It isn't that," Cynthia replied. "I haven't any- 
 thing to worry about, really. I was just thinking of 
 you." 
 
 "Of me !" Jennie exclaimed. "Why should thoughts 
 of me keep you in that sort of study all day? Tell 
 me wherein I have been so wicked." 
 
 "You haven't been wicked, Jennie," Cynthia an- 
 swered. Then ended with a laugh. "I am the wicked 
 one." 
 
 The girl was quiet a moment, thinking. She was 
 evidently weighing in her mind the advisability of 
 
182 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 confiding in her friend. Finally she spoke. 
 
 "Listen, Jennie," she said. ''I accidentally over- 
 heard a conversation to-day between your father and 
 Squire Parsons. They were talking of you. At first 
 I couldn't help listening; afterward I listened purposely. 
 You own stock in the Bridgewater Continental Pump 
 Company (or something like that), don't you?" 
 
 **Yes," Jennie replied, ''I have some stock in that 
 company. Why do you ask, dear?" 
 
 ''Well, it seems from the conversation that Squire 
 Parsons also owns some stock in that company, and 
 that there are certain things he would like to do if he 
 could get a controlling interest in the company. I 
 gathered that he had tried to get this stock from your 
 mother before she died, but that your mother refused 
 to sell it." 
 
 ''I know," Jennie said. "I also know why my mother 
 refused to sell to Squire Parsons. The stock is worth- 
 less. It has never paid one cent in dividends and I be- 
 lieve it never will. Yet Squire Parsons shall never 
 have it. He had just as well give up his plans. He 
 outlined his plans to my mother and she told him that 
 while he might make some money out of it others would 
 only lose by it, and that she would neither be a party 
 to it, nor sell her stock for that purpose." 
 
 ''If the stock in practically worthless," Cynthia 
 commented, "I can't see why he should have any diffi- 
 culty in buying all he wants from others. I wouldn't 
 think all the stockholders would be as conscientious 
 as your mother was about it." 
 
 "There are only four stockholders," Jennie said, 
 
JENNIE LEARNS OF A SCHEME 183 
 
 "two men living in Bridgewater, Squire Parsons, and 
 myself. Those two men firmly believe that some day 
 they can make the business pay. He can't buy their 
 stock and, as it stands, he can neither buy nor con- 
 trol mine. He only wants to get his own money back 
 with as much more as would be advisable. He doesn't 
 plan to operate the company and get his returns 
 legitimately. If he can get control, boost the capital 
 stock and sell it, including his own, then he can drop 
 out and let the new stockholders contend with the 
 difficuties of operating and marketing. He would have 
 his money out of it, but they would find their money 
 uselessly invested." 
 
 "Is that the reason you will not sell to your father?" 
 
 "I cannot sell to father," Jennie answered. "Mother 
 knew that father would take up with Squire Parsons 's 
 schemes. She .never really owned the stock. It be- 
 longed to my grandmother. She was going to give it 
 to my mother, at the time Squire Parsons first came to. 
 see her about it. Mother went straight to grandmother 
 and had her will it to me, with the provision that if I 
 should ever try to sell it to any person, the stock would 
 revert to the one now owning the majority of stock 
 in the company." 
 
 "Did your mother do that?" Cynthia asked in- 
 credulously. 
 
 "Indeed she did," Jennie answered with a tinge of 
 pride in her voice. "Mother knew that company would 
 never pay out. Squire Parsons knows it, too. His is 
 only a scheme to make some money at somebody 
 else's expense. Mother was too clever for them." 
 
184 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''But, Jennie, they have thought of a way around 
 that," Cynthia returned. ''Squire Parsons suggested 
 it. You see in this State if you are married, your hus- 
 band has practically the control of your property." 
 
 "Cynthia!" 
 
 "Yes, Jennie, that's what they plan. You see Henry 
 Parsons is coming home soon. If you and he should 
 marry, he could go to the stockholders' meetings and 
 cast your vote and in that way they could control the 
 majority of the stock." 
 
 "Cynthia Brown, what are you telling me?" Jennie 
 asked unbelievingly. 
 
 "That's what they were saying, Jennie," Cynthia 
 reaffirmed. "I heard it all distinctly. I was in the 
 stock room back of your father's private office, looking 
 for a piece of goods that is practically out of stock. 
 You know there is seldom anyone in there. The kitten 
 which plays around the factory had followed me in and 
 run back under the stairway behind your father's office. 
 I knew if I locked him in that room he would starve, 
 so I crept back under there to get him out. It's a 
 small place you know, and has the dust of ages in it. 
 You may guess that I was surprised to find that I 
 could hear every word that was said in the private 
 office. At first I was quiet, afraid to move for fear 
 of being heard. Afterward, as I told you, I listened 
 purposely." 
 
 "Well, well," Jennie murmured. 
 
 "You see, Jennie, they think it would be to your 
 advantage. They think that you will marry somebody 
 and that Henry Parsons is the only young man here 
 
JENNIE LEARNS OF A SCHEME 185 
 
 who is of your station in life. They said that, so you 
 
 see they are not trying to harm you, as they see it." 
 
 *'No," Jennie said meditatively, ''not as they see it." 
 
 ''Well, that is all," Cynthia continued. "I don't 
 know why it should have worried me so. But some- 
 how, I felt that they were plotting against you. At 
 the same time I knew that they thought they were plan- 
 ning for you. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, dear, they are not to blame, but I am glad 
 you told me," Jennie said. "However, I think they 
 have their planning all for nothing. 1 don't think 
 Henry Parsons will take to that plan in the least. You 
 know in school he and I were not the chums we might 
 have "been." Jennie laughed at the recollection of their 
 school-day quarrels. 
 
 "Listen, Jennie," Cynthia said, "Henry Parsons 
 would have been a man worth knowing had he been 
 permitted to grow up naturally. He may be as bad 
 as his parents and their foolish wealth have tried to 
 make him, but I don't believe it. He would never 
 stoop to marrying any woman because there was money 
 to be gained by doing so. His father knows that. You 
 mark my words. Henry will never know about that 
 part of it until afterwards. They know full well 
 that if they throw you and Henry together he just 
 couldn't help — well, they think he would " 
 
 "Cynthia," Jennie's laugh rang out gayly, "I'm 
 sure he wouldn't. Everybody doesn't see me through 
 your eyes, dear." 
 
 "But, Jennie, you are beautiful, and they are right. 
 
186 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 You are the only one of his station here." There was 
 just a touch of sadness in Cynthia's voice. 
 
 ''Station!" Jennie laid special emphasis on the word. 
 ''Cynthia, there is only one standard by which 'station' 
 can be measured, and that is not money or social po- 
 sition. Character is the only standard, and I know 
 many of my station in that respect and many above it. ' ' 
 
 "That's not the world's system of measuring station, 
 Jennie. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Nevertheless, ' ' Jennie laughed, ' ' I think I can man- 
 age my father and Squire Parsons. I don't think I 
 will have the least trouble there. And as for Henry 
 Parsons, I seem to remember that a certain little flaxen- 
 haired girl was his special chum and favorite. Perhaps 
 he may measure station by my system, Cynthia. ' ' 
 
 Cynthia's eyes fell and a slow flush spread over her 
 face. 
 
 "You don't think I had any such motive as that in 
 telling you what I have, do you, Jennie?" she asked. 
 "You know that looking after mother will be my work 
 in life, don't you?" 
 
 "Oh, Cynthia, dear," Jennie said contritely, "I was 
 only joking. You know I didn't mean that, don't 
 you?" 
 
 "Of course," Cynthia answered, a smile once more 
 bringing the dimples to her cheek. "I know you 
 better than that." 
 
 "A note for you, miss." 
 
 The maid appeared and extended the tray to Jennie. 
 She took from it the missive and tore it open. 
 
 "Oh!" she said, "it's from the man with the gowns. 
 
JENNIE LEARNS OF A SCHEME 187 
 
 He says he can't show me his line until to-morrow 
 afternoon. Can't you manage to come over and help me 
 choose some dresses, Cynthia? I know your judgment 
 is better than my own." 
 
 ''I'm not so sure about that," Cynthia said. ''But 
 there never was a woman who could resist looking at a 
 line of dresses even if she had no thought of buying. 
 I will certainly try to come if the work is still slack 
 at the factory." 
 
 For the remainder of the afternoon Cynthia chatted 
 and was her own bright self again. Jennie never 
 grew tired of watching the dimples come and go in 
 her cheeks, or her face light up with a passing thought. 
 Her friendship, loyal and true, Jennie knew to be one 
 of the most precious possessions of her life. 
 
CHAPTER 20 
 A DISCUSSION ON THE RESURRECTION 
 
 WELL, WE ARE ready once more for our study. 
 I wonder if anyone has succeeded during the 
 day in tearing down our work of last eve- 
 ning." The speaker's voice did not imply fear of the 
 disaster mentioned. 
 
 ' ' Well, I went over it, but it still fits, ' ' Bill Lakeman 
 said, tapping the great Book before him. ''This is an 
 awfully old Bible, but I declare, it seemed new to 
 me to-day." 
 
 ''It's always new, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said ear- 
 nestly. 
 
 The shades of evening coming once more from over 
 the hill found the little group in their favorite spot 
 beneath the honeysuckle. The deep red glow of the 
 sinking sun had not faded from the sky. The balm 
 of the summer evening was in the air and all nature 
 responded with serenity. 
 
 "I was studying before I came," Jennie said, con- 
 tinuing the conversation. "And I was checking over 
 that first verse of the sixth chapter of Hebrews. It 
 mentions the 'resurrection of the dead.' That is a 
 subject I am especially interested in. Did you tell us 
 all there was to tell about it the other evening, or could 
 we learn more?" 
 
 "I think we could easily learn more," Alfred an- 
 
THE RESURRECTION 189 
 
 swered her. "In fact, Miss Burnside, we have not 
 taken up that subject at all, as yet. It is what I had 
 planned for to-night. Our subject, 'The mission of 
 Christ,' was closely related to it, yet did not really go 
 into the subject of the 'resurrection of the dead.' We 
 learned then that Christ would restore life. To-night 
 we will try to learn how completely he restores it." 
 
 As each settled in an attitude of attention, Alfred 
 continued : 
 
 *'We will use our pencils and paper again to-night 
 as we did last night. At the head we will write the 
 subject: 'The resurrection of the dead.' " 
 
 "I can't see," Stanley broke in, "how there can 
 be a resurrection of the dead. I had this brought to 
 my attention some time ago. I was in a home where a 
 man died. His wife was heartbroken, naturally. Well, 
 the minister came and comforted her with these words, 
 'Your husband's spirit is in heaven.' Now the man 
 hadn't been dead more than an hour, yet I suppose the 
 minister was right. I'm not seriously questioning his 
 statement, but what I can't see is this: if in one hour 
 after he was dead, his spirit was in heaven, (the body 
 was buried three days later) how could there be such 
 a thing as a resurrection? To resurrect, as I under- 
 stand it, means to restore to life. Now if that man 
 was in heaven inside of one hour after he died, his 
 spirit never was dead, was it?" 
 
 "No," Alfred answered, "evidently not." 
 
 "Then how could it be restored to life?" 
 
 A quiet smile crept over Bill Lakeman's face. 
 
 ' ' Perhaps we had better look into the matter, ' ' Alfred 
 
190 THE CALL AT EVENING* 
 
 said. ' * The first question to determine is : do the spirits 
 go directly to heaven? I mean by that, Do they re- 
 turn directly to the presence of God, there to dwell 
 with him throughout eternity? If so, then Stanley is 
 right; there can be no resurrection from the dead as 
 is promised in the Bible. However, we do not want 
 to be controlled by an 'if.* So we will try to reach 
 a conclusion from the teachings of the Scriptures. We 
 learned the other night that the spirits of the wicked, 
 those taken captive by Satan, go at death to the 
 prison house. Now we will need to learn where the 
 spirits of the righteous go at death.'* 
 
 '* Don't you believe they go to heaven?" Jennie 
 asked. 
 
 ** Possibly we might call it that," Alfred answered, 
 **but in my mind it would be like a friend of mine, 
 who, when he was married lived in a little two-room 
 cottage while he saved up money to build his perma- 
 nent home. Now he called that cottage 'home' while 
 he lived there, but it was not that home in which he 
 looked forward to spending the remainder of his life. ' ' 
 
 "Are we to understand by that," Stanley asked, 
 *'that you think there is a temporary place to which 
 the spirits of the righteous go?" 
 
 ''If I answered your question, Stanley, you would 
 have only my opinion of the matter. I think we had bet- 
 ter find out what the Bible has to say about it. Mr. Ben- 
 nett, will you read Luke 16:22?" 
 
 " 'And it came to pass that the beggar died and was 
 carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom: the rich 
 man also died, and was buried.' " 
 
THE RESURRECTION 191 
 
 *'We. all know the rest of the story," Alfred went 
 on. "I merely wanted to establish the fact, that when 
 the righteous died, there was a place of rest prepared 
 for them, in this instance, called 'Abraham's bosom.' 
 Now, let us investigate further. Will you tell us, Mr. 
 Lakeman, from Revelation 2 : 7, where the tree of life 
 stood?" 
 
 Bill Lakeman studied the verse carefully before 
 he answered, then he said: 
 
 'Tn the midst of the paradise of God." 
 
 ''Very well; now, Stanley, 2 Corinthians 12:4." 
 
 " 'How that he was caught up into paradise, and 
 heard unspeakable words, which it was not lawful for 
 a man to utter.' " 
 
 ' ' Now, Miss Lakeman, Luke 23 : 44. " 
 
 " 'And Jesus said unto him. Verily I say unto thee, 
 To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise.' " 
 
 "How are we going to know," Stanley asked, "that 
 the paradise mentioned there is not heaven? How are 
 we going to know what this paradise is?" 
 
 ' ' The latter part of your question is hard to answer, 
 Stanley," Alfred said. "It is a subject on which there 
 is very little revealed. However, I notice that when you 
 speak of heaven, you always speak of it in the singu- 
 lar number — 'heaven.' In this matter I do not under- 
 stand that to be correct. Paul said he knew a man 
 who was caught up to the third heaven. He understood 
 that all the economy of God was not confined to just 
 one place. As for the first part of your question, we 
 know that the paradise mentioned by Christ on the cross 
 was not the place you choose to call 'heaven.' If I 
 
192 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 can understand the Scriptures, that place whiieh you 
 call 'heaven' is what the Bible terms the 'heaven of 
 heavens' (2 Chronicles 6 : 18; 1 Kings 8 : 27), the highest 
 heaven, the dwelling place of God. Paradise is not 
 that 'heaven,' for Christ made the statement to the 
 thief, 'To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise.' Three 
 days later he told Mary that he had not yet ascended 
 to his Father. For this reason I believe the paradise 
 of God to be to the righteous what the prison house 
 is to the wicked, a place where they go to await the 
 resurrection." 
 
 Alfred pulled a little book from his pocket. 
 
 "I am going to read to you," he went on, "the 
 thought expressed better than I am able to express it : 
 'The Spirits of those who are righteous are received 
 into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a 
 state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest 
 from all their labors and from all care and sorrow.' " 
 
 "That sounds very well," Bill Lakeman said, "but 
 what is the object of not letting them go straight to 
 heaven? Why keep them away from God in a place 
 of detention, even if it is as you say, 'a state of hap- 
 piness'?" 
 
 "That is a big question," Alfred answered him, "so 
 big that it embraces practically the whole of the plan 
 of salvation. I think we will have discovered the an- 
 swer by the time we have studied a few nights more. 
 For the present, I can only say that man cannot re- 
 turn fully to the presence of God until Christ shall have 
 accomplished his great mission, and he has not yet 
 'delivered up the kingdom of God.* 
 
THE RESURRECTION 193 
 
 ''No,, we must wait, like those whom John in his 
 vision saw under the altar, who he said had been be- 
 headed for the witness of Christ. They asked the 
 question: ''How long, Lord, holy and true." And 
 the answer came back: 'Rest yet a little while,' so 
 even the righteous must wait for that day, when a 
 great voice out of the temple of heaven shall say: 
 'It is done.' " 
 
 "Then you think," Stanley asked, "that the right- 
 eous spirits go to a place of rest, and wait there until 
 Christ has fulfilled his mission?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "until the climax of the 
 plan of ages is reached." 
 
 The soft winds of evening stirred among the trees. 
 The glow faded from the western sky and the shadows 
 of evening began to fall. The quiet assurance of eternity 
 crept into their hearts as Alfred continued the in- 
 terrupted study. 
 
 "We decided," he said, "that we would learn, first, 
 when the resurrection would take place. Mr. Lakeman, 
 will you read 1 Thessalonians 4:16?" 
 
 The turning of the leaves of Bill Lakeman 's great 
 Bible startled a tiny sparrow which was evidently con- 
 sidering a roosting place for the night among the ivy 
 vines, and it darted away, deciding seemingly that 
 the trees of the grove promised greater assurance of 
 unbroken rest. 
 
 Bill Lakeman read : ' ' 'For the Lord himself shall de- 
 scend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the 
 archangel and the dead in Christ shall rise first.' " 
 
 "Now, Miss Lakeman, Revelation 20:5, 6." 
 
194 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 '' 'But the rest of the dead lived not again until 
 the thousand years were finished, this is the first res- 
 urrection. Blessed and holy is he that hath part in 
 the first resurrection: on such the second death hath 
 no power/ " 
 
 ''These verses teach us," Alfred commented, 'Hhat 
 the resurrection of the righteous, or the just, will take 
 place when Christ comes, but that the wicked must 
 yet remain in the bands of death until the thousand 
 years are ended." 
 
 "I have been taught," Jennie Burnside spoke up, 
 "that Christ comes every time a Christian dies, and 
 that constitutes the resurrection. Do you believe, Mr. 
 Stewart, that Christ will come literally?" 
 
 " I am glad you brought up that question. Miss Burn- 
 side," Alfred said, "for it is really impossible to study 
 the subject of the resurrection of the dead without con- 
 sidering it in connection with Christ's coming. I have 
 heard the theory you mentioned. But it does not seem 
 to fit in with the teachings of the Bible. From the 
 verses that Mr. Lakeman read, we learn that the Lord 
 himself shall descend from heaven with a shout. We 
 are told that every eye shall see him. That does not 
 correspond with the deathbed theory, does it? The 
 verse Miss Lakeman read teaches us that those who 
 take part in the first resurrection will escape the ter- 
 rors of the second death. The fact that there will be 
 a first resurrection in which all that are dead in Christ 
 shall rise is further evidence that the theory you men- 
 tioned of a promiscuous resurrection is without founda- 
 tion in the Scriptures, which teaches us plainly that 
 
THE RESURRECTION 195 
 
 there is a day, in which all that are in their graves 
 shall hear his voice. 
 
 ''I think we have shown that one resurrection at 
 least will take place when Christ comes. Now let us 
 investigate what the resurrection will be. However, 
 before we go any farther with that phase of the ques- 
 tion, I want to recall to our minds some of the facts 
 established in our study regarding the mission of Christ. 
 The death brought into the world by Satan, we learned 
 then, was twofold: physical, that is, separation of the 
 spirit from the body, and spiritual, separation from God. 
 Now Christ's mission was to overcome the works of 
 Satan. Hence, as death, spiritual and physical, was 
 a part of the works of Satan, Christ's mission to be 
 complete must of necessity overcome the physical death 
 as well as the spiritual. The world has, to a great ex- 
 tent, overlooked that fact, although he demonstrated 
 it in the case of his own death. Not only did he over- 
 come the spiritual death and return to his Father, but 
 he overcame the physical death as well and appeared 
 among men with spirit and body reunited. It was in 
 this complete form that he returned to God. ' ' 
 
 Bill Lakeman tapped the Bible before him medita- 
 tively. 
 
 ''Do you mean to say that all spirits will be united 
 with their bodies in the resurrection?" he asked. 
 
 ''So the Bible teaches," Alfred answered. "Do you 
 remember the vision of Ezekiel in regard to the valley 
 of dry bones? How the sinews and flesh were com- 
 manded to come upon the dry bones, and the spirits. 
 
196 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 in this case called breath, came into them and they 
 stood upon their feet, a mighty army?" 
 
 ''Our minister preached on that subject just last Sun- 
 day," Jennie Burnside spoke up. ''He told us that was 
 a spiritual picture, meaning the salvation of Israel; 
 that it was fulfilled when they returned from Babylon- 
 ish captivity." 
 
 Bill Lakeman's smile was eloquent with meaning. 
 
 "Not much difference," he murmured, "between an 
 infidel and a preacher. The infidel sets aside the Bible ; 
 the preacher spiritualizes it away." 
 
 Foolish Bill Lakeman! He thought he talked to 
 himself. 
 
 InVardly amused, Alfred made no comment on the 
 old man's spoken thought. He turned instead and 
 addressed himself to Jennie. 
 
 "That could hardly be true," he said, "when viewed 
 in connection with the 12th and 13th verses of this 
 37th chapter of Ezekiel, which read : " ' Thus saith the 
 Lord God; Behold, my people, I will open your 
 graves, and cause you to come up out of your graves, 
 and bring you into the land of Israel. And ye shall 
 know that I am the Lord, when I have opened your 
 graves, my people, and brought you up out of your 
 graves.' That's plain enough. I don't see why any 
 man should try to set it aside." 
 
 "I suppose they would say," Bill Lakeman said, with 
 just a hint of the old hardness in his voice, "that is 
 a figure of speech also, and the grave mentioned 
 there merely refers to their captivity." 
 
 "I know that is what they would say," Alfred an- 
 
THE RESURRECTION 197 
 
 swered, ''but that will scarcely hold together either. 
 The eleventh verse tells us that those bones represented 
 'the whole house of Israel.' Now it was only a very 
 small portion of the kingdom of Judah, which at its best 
 was only about three of the tribes of Israel, that ever 
 did return from that captivity. The kingdom of Israel 
 was never in captivity to Babylon, and never returned 
 from a previous captivity. So his explanation will not 
 fit, any way you apply it. There is only one way in 
 which the whole house of Israel ever can be brought 
 to their own land, and that is in the way the Lord 
 says he intends to do it — 'I will open your graves, 
 my people, and bring you up out of your graves.' " 
 
 Stanley's eyes sparkled and he leaned forward, lis- 
 tening intently. Even John Bennett seemed to wait 
 anxiously for the next word. 
 
 "Besides," Alfred Stewart went on, "if that evidence 
 is not strong enough, we will look at Daniel 12 : 2. 
 Stanley, read it." 
 
 Stanley dropped his eyes from the speaker's face 
 to the book before him and read: " 'And many of 
 them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, 
 some to everlasting life, and some to shame and ever- 
 lasting contempt.' " 
 
 " 'Them that sleep in the dust of the earth,' " Al- 
 fred quoted after him. "Well, if they are not suited 
 with that, we can give them another." 
 
 Bill Lakeman glanced at Stanley, but that young 
 man had his entire attention fixed on the young preacher 
 before him. Alfred's fighting spirit was aroused; his 
 sentences came crisp and distinct, as though he would 
 
198 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 attack all the error with which the ages had surrounded 
 the beautiful truths of the gospel, often, as was the 
 case before him, almost submerging them. 
 
 ''Mr. Bennett, read Job 19:23-27." 
 
 John Bennett had in some manner learned to find 
 his own passages and no longer needed Jennie's assist- 
 ance. He found the place quickly. 
 
 " 'Oh, that my words were now written! oh, that 
 they were printed in a book! That they were graven 
 with an iron pen and lead in the rock forever! For, 
 I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall 
 stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though 
 after my skin worms destroy this body yet in my 
 flesh, shall I see God : whom I shall see for myself, and 
 mine eyes shall behold, and not another; though my 
 reins be consumed within me.' " 
 
 "Job understood," Alfred went on, "that although 
 his body faded away in decay, yet he should see God 
 in the flesh. 'I know that my Redeemer liveth.' He 
 knew that the great Redeemer of mankind would over- 
 come death and decay, and that he should see God in 
 his flesh. No wonder he rejoiced. No wonder he 
 wanted his words to be written with an iron pen and 
 lead in the rock forever. Perhaps," again the speaker's 
 voice took on its note of sadness, "perhaps he knew 
 that the time would come when those who professed to 
 believe would deny. 
 
 "That is not all," the speaker continued; "one of 
 the prophets of God makes it even stronger. Miss 
 Burnside, will you read Isaiah 26: 19?" 
 
 Jennie, whose attention had been quite as rapt as 
 
THE RESURRECTION 199 
 
 that of Stanley Lakeman, drew a short, quick breath. 
 Yet she read in tones clear and smooth. 
 
 " 'Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead 
 body shall they arise,' " Alfred quoted once more, 
 in dust: for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the 
 earth shall cast out the dead.' " 
 
 " 'Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead 
 body shall" they arise,' " Alfred quoted once more. 
 "Now I'd like to see them spiritualize that away!" 
 Once more the shadow came on his face and the burden 
 of the world's darkness on his heart. "But I'd a good 
 deal rather see them look it in the face like men." 
 
 "Well, boy," Bill Lakeman said, "perhaps they 
 are not to blame after all. They don't understand, 
 themselves, consequently they can't explain to others." 
 
 "I know that's true," Alfred answered, "and, al- 
 though I allow myself to speak hastily sometimes, my 
 sympathy is really with them. If it were not for the 
 fact that this continual spiritualizing away those things 
 so plainly taught in the Scriptures, is making one in- 
 fidel to almost every convert, and the infidel is, in so 
 many cases, the thinking, questioning man, it would 
 not be so serious, Mr. Lakeman, you would be sur- 
 prised to know how many doubters I find, even among 
 men whose names appear on church books. I can't 
 help admitting that it makes me sad, at times." 
 
 "I know it, boy; I know it," Bill Lakeman re- 
 turned. 
 
 "Now that verse," Alfred went on, " 'Thy dead 
 men shall live, together with my dead body shall they 
 arise.' How could language be plainer? The closing 
 
200 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 sentence, 'The earth shall cast out the dead,' is a posi- 
 tive declaration. It leaves no chance to do other than 
 reject or accept it." 
 
 Alfred was quiet a moment and then continued, 
 '^I had an experience once which amused me. I was 
 in the habit of attending the prayer meetings of a 
 popular church. One evening during the course of the 
 meeting, a young man arose and asked the question: 
 '* 'Will our bodies be resurrected?' 
 
 ''It seemed that was a question that had bothered 
 him for some time. The leader, a big burly fellow, an- 
 swered : 'No! When I am through with this old 
 body, thank God, I expect to lay it aside and never be 
 hampered with it again.' 
 
 "Think of it, 'this old body' as he put it— -the most 
 wonderful, the climax of all of God's physical crea- 
 tions — God's greatest physical gift to man, esteemed 
 so lightly! 
 
 "Well, I thought I would give him a question or 
 two, so I asked: 'When a man dies, where does his 
 spirit go?' 
 
 "His answer came promptly, just as I expected it 
 would : 
 
 " 'Back to God who gave it.' 
 
 " 'Does the spirit ever go to the grave?' I asked 
 again. 
 
 " 'No, indeed!' he answered, 'we bury the body in 
 the grave but the spirit goes to God. The spirit is 
 never in the grave.' 
 
 " 'Then,' I asked, 'if the body only is in the grave, 
 
THE EESURRECTION 201 
 
 what Qomes out when the graves are opened as the 
 Bible says they will be?' " 
 
 Bill Lakeman langhed heartily. 
 
 "And what did he say to that?" he asked. ''That 
 must have given him something to think about." 
 
 " 'Oh/ he said, 'we shouldn't study too deeply into 
 these questions.' And he promptly closed the meeting, 
 although the time was not half taken up." 
 
 "That's just the trouble," Bill Lakeman said, 
 "afraid to look the question honestly in the face. And 
 yet, young men, such as you mentioned, come to such 
 people for information, and get husks as their reward. ' ' 
 
 "That's the sad part of it," Alfred answered. 
 
 "If that man had ever studied anything about his 
 body," Stanley said, "he would never have made such 
 a remark about it. The body of man is truly a wonder- 
 ful creation, and if man did not abuse it so much 
 would be more wonderful still. However, I would 
 like to ask you some questions: If the body is to be 
 resurrected, will it be the same body we have now? 
 In the resurrection, will I have the same hands I have 
 now? And what about the man who dies a cripple? 
 Will he also be a cripple in the resurrection?" 
 
 ' ' Not so fast, ' ' Alfred laughed, then seriously : ' ' Be- 
 fore we study the Scriptures on the subject, I would 
 like to ask you a question, Stanley. If you live to be 
 fifty years of age, do you expect to have these identical 
 hands? I mean by that, do you expect the same flesh 
 and bone which now composes them, to compose them 
 then?" 
 
 "No," Stanley answered, "the natural changes of 
 
202 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 the body will probably have changed it all by that time. 
 I see what you are trying to say. But what I wanted 
 to ask is this: if I were to die this minute would 1 
 come forth in the resurrection with the same flesh I 
 now have?" 
 
 "We'll investigate that point," Alfred answered. 
 "1 Corinthians 15:35-37 may help us out. You may 
 read it, Stanley." 
 
 " 'But some men will say, How are the dead raised 
 up ? and with what body do they come ? Thou fool, that 
 which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die. And 
 that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that 
 shall be, but bare grain, it may chance of wheat or 
 of some other grain: but God giveth it a body, as it 
 hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body.' " 
 
 "Paul answered your question in the negative, Stan- 
 ley. It is not necessarily the same flesh which comes 
 from the grave when the gra-ve is opened. That flesh 
 may have withered away but the same Creator who 
 created man first from the dust of the earth can bring 
 those dissolved elements together again and form them 
 anew. Paul carries it even further. It would seem that 
 our life here determines to a great extent what the 
 condition of our resurrected body will be, for he goes 
 on in the fortieth verse: 'There are also celestial 
 bodies, and bodies terrestrial.' Now, Paul, when he 
 makes this statement, is discussing the body which will 
 come forth. I would gather from this, that those who 
 attain to the celestial glory which he mentions in the 
 next verse, will be permitted to enjoy a more glorious 
 body than those who only attain to the terrestrial. The 
 
THE RESURRECTION 203 
 
 thought might be carried even farther. It is just possi- 
 ble that those who attain to the glory mentioned in 
 verse forty-one as the glory of the stars, will not be 
 able to enjoy the glory of being of those of the terres- 
 trial." 
 
 ''That seems reasonable," Bill Lakeman said. 
 
 '■Paul throws still more light on the subject," Alfred 
 said. "Miss Lakeman, will you read verses 41 to 44?" 
 
 " 'There is one glory of the sun, and another glory 
 of the moon, and another glory of the stars: for one 
 star differeth from another star in glory. So also is 
 the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption ; 
 it is raised in incorruption ; it is sown in dishonor ; it is 
 raised in glory; it is sown in weakness; it is raised in 
 power; it is sown a natural body; it is raised a spir- 
 itual body.' " 
 
 "Do you understand, Stanley, that although the body 
 which we lay in the grave is truly wonderful, and a 
 great blessing from God, yet the body which he shall 
 bring forth out of the grave is infinitely more wonder- 
 ful?" 
 
 "Yes," Stanley said, "it would seem so." 
 
 "In this connection," Alfred continued, "I would 
 like to consider 2 Corinthians 5 : 17. Miss Burnside, 
 will you read it?" 
 
 " 'Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new 
 creature : old things are passed away ; behold, all things 
 are become new.' " 
 
 ' ' Now I would like also to hear Job 33 : 25. Mr. Lake- 
 man, will you read?" 
 
204 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 " ' His flesh shall be fresher than a child's: he shall 
 return to the days of his youth.' " 
 
 Bill Lakeman had been following these passages of 
 scripture with unusual interest. 
 
 ''To me," Alfred went on, "these verses teach a 
 beautiful thought. In the resurrection there will be no 
 weak bodies. Laid away in weakness, 'it shall be 
 raised in power.' This would answer your question in 
 regard to cripples, Stanley, or those maimed in any 
 manner. Furthermore it teaches us this, those who 
 are laid away in feeble old age, will come forth in the 
 power of their manhood. 'He shall return to the days 
 of his youth,' and for the flesh which is seamed and 
 wrinkled with age, he will be given 'flesh' that is 
 'fresher than a child's.' Isaiah, evidently speaking of 
 the same thing, says that there shall no more be an 
 old man who has not fulfilled his days. Old age, bodily 
 blemishes, and all other undesirable conditions will 
 have vanished." 
 
 "Young man," Bill Lakeman said, "the Bible as 
 you have made it appear to us, holds out comfort and 
 correction for every wrong condition in life. I am 
 an old man, but I thank God to-night that I have been 
 able to understand him better because of the things 
 you have taught us. I like that thought. "What com- 
 fort would it be to live to see old age and to know 
 that we would carry an aged body throughout eternity? 
 I would rather commit suicide in the prime of life 
 than to do that. But, Mr. Stewart, I have run up against 
 a snag which I would like for you to uproot. Back here 
 in 1 Corinthians, 15th chapter, I read this: 
 
THE RESURRECTION 205 
 
 '' 'Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood can- 
 not inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corrup- 
 tion inherit incorruption. ' " 
 
 ''That is a snag, isn't it?" Alfred asked, laughing. 
 "We will go on and study the rest of the chapter and 
 then come back to your snag, Mr. Lakeman, and hitch 
 all hands on for a mighty pull." Then he continued 
 seriously, "I think there is surely some harmony be- 
 tween that passage of scripture and the teachings of 
 the rest of the Bible. Stanley, will you read verse 51 ? " 
 
 " 'Behold, I show you a mystery; we shall not all 
 sleep, but we shall all be changed.' " 
 
 "Now, Mr. Bennett, the next verse." 
 
 " 'In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the 
 last trump : for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead 
 shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be 
 changed.' " 
 
 "Now, Miss Burnside, verse 53." 
 
 " 'For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and 
 this mortal must put on immortality.' " 
 
 "I can't tell you, Mr. Lakeman, what the difference 
 will be between the flesh of immortality and the flesh 
 of our present mortal condition. It will evidently 
 differ from our present combination of flesh and blood. 
 I can't say in just what manner. Then we notice that 
 the Apostle John admits having doubts, for he says: 
 'It doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know 
 that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him.' " 
 
 "However, this much we do know: Christ himself 
 went into heaven, taking with him the same body with 
 which he was resurrected. It bore the spear hole in 
 
206 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 his side, the print of the nails in his hands. When he 
 comes again the second time, he will show to Israel, 
 according to the Scriptures, those evidences of his 
 identity. His flesh is in the kingdom of heaven, his 
 blood was spilled on Calvary. So I am content, as was 
 John, 'It does not yet appear what we shall be: but 
 we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like 
 him.' Now just one more, Mr. Lakeman; will you 
 read Philippians 3 : 20-21?" 
 
 " 'For our conversation is in heaven; from whence 
 also we look for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ: 
 who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned 
 like unto his glorious body according to the working 
 whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto him- 
 self.' " 
 
 And so the evening ended in the holy hush of night. 
 They separated quietly, thoughtfully. Yet in the heart 
 of each was a prayer of thankfulness for the mighty 
 fullness of the gospel of Christ. 
 
CHAPTER 21 
 THE SELECTION OF TWO DRESSES 
 
 IS IT becoming?" Jennie asked the salesman, as she 
 stood before the mirror, arrayed in a gown of gor- 
 geous design, which in its cunning deception gave 
 the beholder the impression of simple, unassuming grace 
 and quiet dignity. 
 
 ' ' Very ; miss, very, ' ' the salesman responded warmly. 
 Jennie looked at her friend for confirmation. Cynthia's 
 eyes were bright with enthusiasm. 
 
 ''You are beautiful in it, Jennie," she said truth- 
 fully. 
 
 Jennie looked the gown over critically. 
 
 "Haven't you something more stylish?" she asked. 
 
 "That would hardly be possible," the salesman re- 
 turned, "unless I would show you some of the freak 
 styles, which are not at all suitable for you. Indeed, 
 if we would dare say so, they are hardly suitable for 
 anyone, but we must have them to satisfy a certain 
 portion of our trade." 
 
 "I would like to see them, I think," Jennie said. 
 "And in the meantime, perhaps if I could see this on 
 some one else, it might help me make a descision. If 
 Miss Cynthia could try it on?" 
 
 "Certainly, Miss Burnside, that will work fine. We 
 will just use the young lady as a model," the sales- 
 man laughed pleasantly. "An attractive model is half 
 
208 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 the sale," he added as he spread the gowns before 
 Jennie for inspection, and smiled at Cynthia's confusion. 
 
 "Why, they are — " Jennie started, when her eyes 
 fell on the gowns before her, but checked herself. "I'll 
 try this one on, please." 
 
 When she had left the room to make the necessary 
 change, the salesman stared after her unbelievingly. 
 He was something of a student of human nature and had 
 considered himself a character reader. In this case 
 he found himself floundering in uncertainty. For Jen- 
 nie had carried with her the extremest of the extreme 
 — the very gown the salesman always folded away with 
 a grunt of disgust and a mental picture of the woman 
 he would expect to wear it, and the picture was not 
 alluring. Moreover, Jennie was not of that type, 
 therefore the salesman was puzzled. 
 
 When a moment later Jennie stood before the full 
 length mirror in the sample room, she could scarcely 
 repress a smile at her own reflection. The salesman 
 stood back venturing neither criticism nor approval. 
 
 "Oh, Jennie!" Cynthia exclaimed as she appeared in 
 the doorway. 
 
 But Jennie for the moment had forgotten herself. 
 She was looking at Cynthia, drinking in the full revela- 
 tion of the girl's beauty. From the golden-brown curls 
 piled high on her head, to the graceful folds of the skirt 
 as it brushed the floor, every line, every feature, de- 
 noted grace and beauty. It was not the beauty of the 
 gown alone, but rather the exquisite harmony of 
 the whole, which produced the effect. In fact, Jennie 
 thought as she looked at her, one quickly forgot the 
 
SELECTION OF TWO DRESSES 209 
 
 gown swallowed up as it was in the personality of the 
 woman. 
 
 Not so with Cynthia. There was an expression al- 
 most of pain in her deep blue eyes, as she regarded 
 Jennie. 
 
 ''That will never do, Jennie," she remonstrated. 
 ''It's very unbecoming to you." 
 
 "But it's stylish, isn't it?" Jennie appealed to the 
 salesman. 
 
 "Very, miss," he returned indifferently. "I have 
 nothing more stylish." 
 
 "I'll take it," she said. "Yes, I think I will take' 
 the one Miss Cynthia is wearing as well." 
 
 The salesman looked at her keenly. Such contrfisting 
 taste in one individual. Surely, women were past find- 
 ing out. 
 
 "Now, one thing more," Jennie said; "will you show 
 me some attractive riding suits, please?" 
 
 The alacrity with which the little man sprang to do 
 her bidding betrayed the fact that she had touched 
 upon his favorite hobby. Riding, and all that per- 
 tained to it, aroused all the latent enthusiasm of his 
 nature. 
 
 "We have some excellent habits," he said as he 
 laid them before her. "One, I think, that would be 
 most becoming to you, miss." 
 
 And indeed his judgment was not wrong. Jennie 
 could not have been a woman had she not gazed longer 
 at her own reflection in the mirror than was absolutely 
 necessary to decision. Indeed, the instant her eyes fell 
 upon the reflection the truthful mirror presented, the 
 
/ 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 210 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 decision was made. Yet she gazed unbelievingly. The 
 roguish tilt of the hat, which sat lightly over her 
 dark hair, the daintiness of the riding gloves, the per- 
 sonality of the riding whip which hung from her arm, 
 all combined to make the picture which held her gaze. 
 She stood gazing with surprised eyes for one long 
 minute; then a slow blush spread over her face. She 
 had realized suddenly why she wanted that habit; 
 knew that the coming among them of a certain light- 
 haired stranger had prompted the impulse to ap- 
 pear to better advantage than she had hitherto thought 
 necessary. Yet it is possible that had Alfred Stewart 
 known of that blush he might not have been seriously 
 displeased. He might even have dropped his head to 
 hide a certain glad light in his own eyes, or a smile 
 that would come to his lips. But Alfred did not know, 
 and he certainly could not guess that his presence in 
 Leesburg could possibly be the cause of any unusual 
 extravagance on the part of any of her citizens. 
 
 When the business of the afternoon had been trans- 
 acted and the girls were once more alone, Cynthia 
 threw her arms around her friend. 
 
 ''That riding habit and the one dress are beautiful, 
 Jennie," she said, "quite the most beautiful I have 
 seen." 
 
 "That 'one dress' is not mine, dear lady," Jennie 
 answered. 
 
 "Not yours !" 
 
 Jennie laughed gayly and pressed Cynthia's arm 
 playfully. 
 
 "You unsuspecting dear! And to-morrow is your 
 
SELECTION OF TWO DRESSES 211 
 
 birthday," she said. ''Oh, I was so much afraid you 
 would catch on." 
 
 "But, Jennie," Cynthia faltered, ''I — I couldn't ac- 
 cept such a present, really. Besides what would a fac- 
 tory girl like myself do with a dress like that?" 
 
 ''Listen dear," Jennie said gently; "that's just the 
 kind of dress a factory girl like yourself does want, 
 because you can appear well dressed in it and at the 
 same time not appear overdressed. I gave you that 
 dress, because you, of all my girl friends, have not let 
 the fact that my father is reputed to be wealthy in- 
 terfere with your friendship. I know you, Cynthia. A 
 friend like you is one of the rarest possessions of earth. 
 You would be my friend just the same, no matter what 
 would overtake me in life. Your friendship would 
 be true through joy or sorrow, honor or disgrace. So 
 I want you, dear, to accept the dress and wear it un- 
 hesitatingly." 
 
 Cynthia's eyes filled with tears, and she ran her 
 hands lovingly over the folds of the gown. The very 
 silence spoke her appreciation more eloquently than 
 words could ever have done. And Jennie understood, 
 for Jennie, too, was a woman. 
 
CHAPTER 22 
 THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 
 
 STEWART," Bill Lakeman called, ''come here." 
 Alfred looked up from a point where he leaned 
 out over the brook in a vain attempt to catch a 
 wiry little minnow which was trying to make the 
 rapids. It darted playfully away from him, found a 
 rift among the rocks, and succeeded in reaching the 
 still waters above. 
 
 Alfred laughed at his failure and started up the bank 
 to where Bill Lakeman sat under a great maple. As 
 he did so, crowding through a tall bunch of grasses, 
 he was attracted by a noise at his feet, followed by 
 a whir of wings. 
 
 '*A quail's nest, Mr. Lakeman," he called as he 
 stopped to investigate the disturbance. 
 • The old man arose, pressed his way through the grass 
 to Alfred's side, and leaning over, peered with Alfred 
 into the nest below. 
 
 ''Full of eggs," he said; "she'll be sitting soon." 
 
 "You would never have found it," he continued as 
 he rose to his feet, "if you hadn't almost stepped into 
 it. That bird's mighty particular who finds her nest." 
 
 "Well, come on back, birdie," he added, looking 
 out to where the little hen ran to and fro among the 
 grasses, trying vainly to attract their attention from 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 213 
 
 the place. "We'll not hurt your nest, and we under- 
 stand these antics." 
 
 He carefully arranged the grasses back, it seemed to 
 Alfred, just as they had found them. 
 
 ''This arrangement won't fool the bird either/* he 
 said. ''Man can't put his hand down on nature, ever, 
 and have it the same after he's gone." 
 
 When they reached the tree under which Bill Lake- 
 man had been sitting, Alfred threw his crutch to the 
 ground and stretched himself luxuriously on the bed 
 of soft mosses. A feeling of rest and quiet stole over 
 him. He looked up high among the leaves over his 
 head and discovered there, wedged securely between 
 the leaves, a tiny bird's nest. Stealing cautiously be- 
 tween the leaves, a pewit poised for a moment on the 
 edge of the nest, deposited the morsel she. was carry- 
 ing, in the open mouth of her young, and darted away 
 again. Farther out on the edge of another limb a golden 
 oriole had hung her nest, and Alfred felt himself car- 
 ried in fancy back to boyhood -when these things had 
 formed the most joyous associations of his life. The tree 
 stood on a little peninsula overlooking the brook, and he 
 closed his eyes and listened to the melody of the wa- 
 ters as they jumped from rock to rock of the rapids. 
 
 It was one of those beautiful, secluded spots of nature, 
 and Alfred knew instinctively that he had stumbled 
 upon Bill Lakeman's favorite retreat as he had a few 
 evenings before found Stanley's. He noticed that Bill 
 Lakeman had been reading his Bible. 
 
 "What do you think of this bed of moss?" the old 
 man asked, running his eye over the velvet-like smooth- 
 ness of its surface. 
 
214 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''I never saw one more beautiful," Alfred answered 
 truthfully. 
 
 "Look." Bill Lakeman pulled from his pocket a 
 small, round glass and held it before Alfred's eyes. 
 Instantly the moss bed beneath was transformed into a 
 veritable bed of flowers, each tiny stem a complete 
 plant in itself, topped by a single yellow flower, 
 proudly holding up its head, as though it knew 
 that while too small to be seen and noticed, yet it 
 was needed to add to the beauty of the whole. It re- 
 minded Alfred of some lives he had seen, quiet, unpre- 
 tentious, scarcely noticeable in themselves; yet he re- 
 alized it was such lives which formed the smoothness 
 and beauty of the world. 
 
 He reached his hand for the glass which the old 
 man surrendered willingly, and looked long at the 
 flowers beneath him. He noticed in the center of each 
 tiny yellow flower a single drop of red; and knew that 
 other beauties yet lay hidden by their very minuteness 
 beyond the power of the glass in his hand. As usual 
 under these circumstances his mind went out to the 
 Creator who had planned and fashioned these won- 
 derful things of nature, more wonderful because man 
 could neither see nor understand. 
 
 Unconsciously he lifted his eyes from the moss at 
 his feet to the sky above, and the old man following 
 him with his keen, kindly eyes, smiled. How easy to 
 follow his thoughts. Yet to-day Bill Lakeman himself 
 lifted his eyes to heaven and felt the reality of the ex- 
 istence of that great God whom Alfred loved, and Bill 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 215 
 
 Lakeman felt his own heart warm toward the God he 
 had always doubted and misunderstood. His gaze once 
 more fell to the flowers at his feet and he felt that he 
 knew that God better because of having loved his 
 creations. 
 
 ''They're perfect," Alfred said, viewing the flowers 
 once more through the glass in his hand. He lifted 
 his eyes thoughtfully to Bill Lakeman 's face. 
 
 ''Men's sight is never clear enough to see the things 
 of God," he remarked. "We are never able to see them 
 in all their completeness. Paul's statement that now 
 we see 'through a glass darkly' fits everywhere, doesn't 
 it? I can't see all the beauty of this moss bed, not even 
 with the help of this glass. Part of it is still hidden. I 
 think it must be the same in spiritual things. Even 
 with the help of the Spirit of God, which he has given 
 us as a glass to aid our spiritual sight, we still only ' see 
 in part.' Do you know, Mr. Lakeman, that at times 
 when I get to thinking about it, I feel that I am anx- 
 ious for that time when we shall see face to face, 
 when all these beauties, now hidden from our sight, 
 will be revealed to our perfected vision." 
 
 "Oh, boy," Bill Lakeman laughed, "what would 
 the world be, without such dreamers as you? Yet 
 you are right; much of our sight is hidden. We go 
 through life little realizing the beauty of the world we 
 are in. The air we breathe, the sounds we hear, the 
 sights we see are so wonderful that men who have spent 
 their entire lives studying them have only skimmed 
 the surface with their knowledge. Just as it was with 
 your moss bed, there are always greater beauties lying 
 
216 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 just beyond the reach of our comprehension.'' The 
 old man gazed at a patch of blue showing through the 
 leaves above him. Thoughtfully he watched a snowy 
 cloud drift across its surface and out of the range of 
 his vision. 
 
 "Do you realize," he said, facing his companion and 
 bringing into the conversation one of those sudden 
 changes of thought, peculiar to him, ''that beneath all 
 this 'hidden beauty' as you call it, death lurks? Look 
 here." Reaching out, he lifted a leaf on a bush grow- 
 ing near. Just beneath, eating away at the heart of 
 the leaf, hung a great green worm. 
 
 "That isn't all," Bill Lakeman went on; "the corn 
 in that field over there looks perfect from here, but 
 fully one third of it is worthless. Death is everywhere. 
 Look at these hands; why are they seamed and 
 wrinkled? The same answer: death and decay. 
 There is much of beauty in the world, but just 
 when we begin to forget, death looms up before us, 
 just as prevalent, just as certain, as life." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "all you have said is true. 
 We are evidently living in the evening time of the 
 earth : that time when the earth waxes old as a gar- 
 ment. But, Mr. Lakeman, if I can understand the 
 Bible, you and I . are not to-day seeing anything of 
 death, disease, and destruction to what the inhabitants 
 of the earth will see before, that day of the Lord shall 
 come. Looking around on the world to-day, we feel 
 to a great extent, perfect safety. But the time will 
 come when that sense of safety will not be felt. Let 
 me see the Bible there.'.' 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 217 
 
 Bill Lakeman picked the book up from the mosses 
 at his feet and handed it to Alfred. 
 
 "There is one thing taught clearly," the young man 
 went on as he spread the Bible out on the moss before 
 him, "and that is the great time of destruction, as 
 the end draws near. Paul in speaking of it said : ' This 
 know also, that in the last days perilous times shall 
 come.' Jeremiah 23:19, 20, puts it like this: 'Behold, 
 a whirlwind of the Lord is gone forth in fury, even a 
 grievous whirlwind: it shall fall grievously upon the 
 head of the wicked. The anger of the Lord shall 
 not return, until he have executed, and till he have 
 performed the thoughts of his heart: in the latter 
 days ye shall consider it perfectly.' Christ himself 
 gives us a picture in Luke 21 : 25, 26. He says that 
 in the generation in which the times of the Gen- 
 tiles shall be fulfilled, 'there shall be signs in the sun, 
 and in the moon, and in the stars ; and upon the earth 
 distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the 
 waves roaring; men's hearts failing them for fear, and 
 for looking after those things which are coming on the 
 earth; for the powers of heaven shall be shaken.' " 
 
 "Not a very bright picture, that," the old man re- 
 marked. 
 
 "The destruction which shall take place before the 
 day of the Lord shall come will be far-reaching. Lis- 
 ten to this in Joel 1:4, 10, 11, 15," Alfred continued. 
 
 " 'That which the palmerworm hath left hath the 
 locust eaten; and that which the locust hath left hath 
 the cankerworm eaten; and that which the canker- 
 worm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. . . . The field 
 
218 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 is wasted, the land mourneth; for the corn is wasted: 
 the new wine is dried up, the oil languisheth. Be ye 
 ashamed, ye husbandmen; howl, ye vinedressers, 
 for the wheat and for the barley; because the harvest 
 of the field is perished. . . . Alas for the day! for the 
 day of the Lord is at hand, and as a destruction from 
 .the Almighty shall it come.' Christ speaking of the 
 time says 'nation shall rise against nation, kingdom 
 against kingdom : and there shall be famines and pesti- 
 lences, and earthquakes in divers places. All these .are 
 the beginnings of sorrow.' 
 
 ' ' You were right, Mr. Lakeman, a few moments ago ; 
 death and destruction, are everywhere. Even when 
 we are considering the beauties of the created world 
 we come upon its blight. Yet we learned a few nights 
 ago in our study, that these are not the works of God. 
 His it was to give life and beauty ; it has remained for 
 the Devil and for man to bring death and destruction. 
 It remains for Christ to bring about a restoration of 
 true life." 
 
 ''That's a nice theory, Stewart," Bill Lakeman said, 
 "but will the facts bear out the assumption? Now it 
 seems to me that man and the Devil are not responsible 
 for all the destruction there is in the world. There, 
 did you see that? Was it man or the Devil who 
 prompted that fish to dart to the surface and snap 
 up that fly ? That was destruction, a part of" the de- 
 struction that .is in the world. Yet God himself must 
 have given that fish a desire to eat flies. Practically 
 all of the life of the world is maintained by the de- 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 219 
 
 struction of other life. How do you account for that?" 
 
 Alfred smiled assent. 
 
 ''I'll have to let the decision go to you for the pres- 
 ent, Mr. Lakeman, ' ' he admitted. Then more seriously, 
 ''However that may be, this time or scene of destruction 
 will end when Christ shall have taken over the ruling 
 of this earth." 
 
 "Just what do you mean by that statement?" Bill 
 Lakeman asked. "Do you mean that Christ and God 
 are not now ruling this earth?" 
 
 "Yes, and no," Alfred answered. "Christ and God 
 do most certainly rule in the affairs of men, yet not in 
 the absolute sense. There is another agency also ruling 
 among men — Satan. We cannot overlook that fact." 
 
 "Well, I can't see," the old man said, "why God 
 lets the Devil stir up so much devilment. "Why doesn't 
 God take him out of the way?" 
 
 "I have often thought of that," Alfred answered 
 looking thoughtfully up at the canopy of leaves above 
 him. "I have it figured out that it is God's sense of 
 fairness. He will not be unfair even with the Devil. 
 There will evidently be a time when God can and will 
 do just that. The devils themselves seem to under- 
 stand it. Do you remember the question they once 
 asked Christ? 'Why hast thou come to torment us be- 
 fore our time?' They knew that there would come a 
 time when the great, just God could say to them in all 
 fairness. You must no longer torment the children of 
 men. ' ' 
 
 "Well, I'll be glad to see that time come," Bill 
 Lakeman commented. "Man himself is capable of 
 
220 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 enough meanness without any help from the DeviL'* 
 
 They were quiet a moment. Then he continued: "I'd 
 like to know on what you base your assertion that all 
 this destruction will cease when Christ rules. I don't 
 see where you get such a thought." 
 
 "Do you remember what we read a few moments 
 ago about the destruction of the palmerworm, etc? 
 That was a picture given of a time just before the day 
 of the Lord shall come. Now listen, this picture follows : 
 I am reading Joel 2 : 21, 22, 25. 
 
 " 'Fear not, land; be glad and rejoice: for the 
 Lord will do great things. Be not afraid, ye beasts of 
 the field : for the pastures of the wilderness do spring, 
 for the tree beareth her fruit, the fig tree and the vine 
 do yield their strength. . . . And I will restore to you the 
 years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, the 
 caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which 
 I sent among you.* '* 
 
 "That sounds good," Bill Lakeman said. 
 
 "You mentioned a moment ago," Alfred went on, 
 "the destruction among the animal life. But listen, 
 in that day when Christ shall reign over the earth, 
 this condition will prevail. (Isaiah 11 : 6-9.) 
 
 " 'The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb.' Say, 
 Mr. Lakeman, how many wolves would you trust among 
 your lambs now ? ' ' 
 
 "Not any," the old man laughed. 
 
 "Well, it will be different then. 'The wolf also 
 shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie 
 down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 221 
 
 and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead 
 them.' How's that?" 
 
 The old man had raised himself on his elbow and 
 was regarding Alfred curiously. 
 
 "Young man," he commanded, "let me see that 
 Bible." 
 
 He took the book and carefully reread the passage 
 indicated. 
 
 "I thought you must be making that up," he said 
 as he handed the book back. 
 
 "Well, that's not all," Alfred laughed. 
 
 " 'And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young 
 ones shall lie down together: and the lion shall eat 
 straw like the ox.' " 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that this earth will ever 
 see that condition?" the old man asked incredulously. 
 
 "Evidently," Alfred answered. "This is the way 
 the Lord puts it. 'They shall not hurt nor destroy 
 in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full 
 of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the 
 sea.'" 
 
 "Well, I'd like to see it like that," Bill Lakeman 
 said. "Do you know, that sounds like a fairy tale?" 
 
 "It does indeed," Alfred agreed, "at least it sounds 
 almost too good to be true, in this world where we are 
 accustomed to so much destruction and fear." 
 
 "When do you figure that will be?" the old man 
 asked again. "After we're all dead and gone, most 
 likely. But if the earth is ever going to be like that, 
 I'd certainly like to see it." 
 
 "I think the Bible gives us a very close estimate 
 
222 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 as to when it will be," Alfred answered. He picked 
 up the book and handed it to his friend. ''Read a few 
 passages as I shall give them to you. First, Acts 1 : 11. " 
 
 '' 'Which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand 
 ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, which is 
 taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like 
 manner as ye have seen him go into heaven.' " 
 
 The old man finished and looked expectantly at 
 Alfred. 
 
 "Now, Luke 21: 27." " 
 
 " 'And then shall they see the Son of Man coming 
 in a cloud, with power and great glory.' " 
 
 "It is probable, Mr. Lakeman, that we will both be 
 dead before that great day of peace; but if we are 
 among those whom Christ has redeemed, I think we 
 shall enjoy that time. Now read 1 Thessalonians 4: 16, 
 please." 
 
 " 'For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven 
 with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with 
 the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise 
 first.'" 
 
 "Do you mean to show by that," Bill Lakeman asked, 
 "that even if we are dead, we will be allowed to come 
 back and see the earth like that, after the resurrec- 
 tion?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "in our perfected bodies. 
 That is, if we are fortunate enough to be among the 
 just." 
 
 "Well, it's worth trying for," the old man com- 
 mented thoughtfully. 
 
 "Now read Psalm 72: 7, 8." 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 223 
 
 " 'In his days shall the righteous flourish and abun- 
 dance of peace so long as the moon endureth. He shall 
 have dominion also from sea to sea, and from the river 
 unto the ends of the earth.' " 
 
 The silence of the forest was on them, except for the 
 melody of the water as it sang over the rapids and the 
 twitter of the birds among the trees. Bill Lakeman 
 raised his eyes and looked off at the line of hills which 
 fringed the valley. But now, he was not seeing the 
 valley as it was but rather in his mind was slowly 
 forming a picture of a perfected world, a world from 
 which crime, sin, and sorrow had fled, a world where 
 birds sang and were not afraid, where beasts frolicked 
 and did not kill. His heart burned within him as the 
 true significance of that picture came to him, and his 
 voice vibrated with feeling when he spoke. 
 
 ''It's certainly worth living for," he repeated. 
 
 "We were talking awhile ago," Alfred said, "about 
 God putting Satan out of the way. Now let's read 
 about it. Revelation 20. 
 
 " 'And I saw an angel come down from heaven, 
 having the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain 
 in his hand. And he laid hold on the dragon, that old 
 serpent which is the Devil, and Satan, and bound him 
 a thousand years, and cast him into the bottomless pit, 
 and shut him up, and set a seal upon him, that he should 
 deceive the nations no more, till the thousand years 
 should be fulfilled: and after that he must be loosed 
 a little season.' " 
 
 "So you see," Alfred remarked, "God is going to do 
 precisely what you were saying a while ago that you 
 
224 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 wondered why he did not do. When that time comes 
 which the devils themselves know of, and speak of 
 as 'our time,' the God of heaven will see that they de- 
 ceive the nations no more.'' 
 
 ''A thousand years," Bill Lakeman repeated, ''on 
 this earth with Christ; no Devil, no wild animals. Do 
 you know, boy, that's the most wonderful thing you 
 have taught us yet." 
 
 He was quiet a moment, then turned to Alfred sud- 
 denly. 
 
 "Say," he said, "doesn't that knock a hole in the 
 teaching that we will spend our eternity in heaven?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "it knocks at least a thou- 
 sand years out of that theory. Furthermore, I think 
 a study of the Bible knocks more than a thousand years 
 out of it. In fact we are not taught in the Bible that 
 we will spend our eternity in heaven. (I mean by 
 that, in the skies.) Our eternity will be spent princi- 
 pally here on earth. We have just read that we will 
 spend a thousand years here. That is not all. If you 
 should read the balance of that chapter, you would dis- 
 cover that after the thousand years' reign of Christ is 
 ended, Satan will again be loosed for a little season. 
 After this little season is ended, the rest of the dead will 
 be brought forth and the great day of judgment will 
 take place. Begin again and read it." 
 
 " 'And cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut 
 him up and set a seal upon him, that he should deceive 
 the nations no more, till the thousand years should be 
 fulfilled : and after that he must be loosed a little season. 
 A.nd I saw thrones, and they sat upon them, and judg- 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 225 
 
 ment was given unto them : and I saw the souls of them 
 that were beheaded for the witness of Jesus and for 
 the word of God, and which had not worshiped the 
 beast, neither his image, neither had received his mark 
 upon their foreheads, or in their hands ; and they lived 
 and reigned with Christ a thousand years.' " 
 
 **That you see,'' Alfred said, ''is a description of 
 the first resurrection, or the resurrection of the just. 
 From the next verse, tell me what becomes of the rest 
 of the dead." 
 
 '* 'But the rest of the dead,' " Bill Lakeman con- 
 tinued reading, " 'lived not again until the thousand 
 years were finished. This is the first resurrection.' " 
 
 "When the thousand years are finished," Alfred went 
 on, "and the Devil has once more been loosed for a 
 time, the apostle there goes on to tell us of the great 
 judgment day of God, in which all the dead stand be- 
 fore him for judgment — not the righteous alone but 
 the rest of the dead referred to there as well, to be re- 
 warded or condemned according as their works have 
 been." 
 
 "Now when the judgment is past and all have re- 
 ceived their apportionment, the apostle said: 'And 
 I saw a new heaven and a new earth. ' Still he does not 
 tell us that we will go off into heaven to dwell, but 
 rather tells us, 'I John saw the holy city. New Jerusa- 
 lem, coming down from God out of heaven, . . . and I 
 heard a great voice out of heaven, saying. Behold, the 
 tabernacle of God is with men, and he shall dwell with 
 them.'" 
 
 "Well, how do you figure," Bill Lakeman asked. 
 
226 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 'Hhat there will be room on earth for all those people? 
 There have been a lot of people on this earth since the 
 beginning/' 
 
 ''I realize that," Alfred answered. ''I have never 
 thought about it a great deal. However, this much I 
 know. This earth, even as it is to-day will support a 
 great many more people, if the proper distribution were 
 made, than are on it. Also two thirds of the earth's 
 surface is now taken up with seas and oceans. John 
 tells us that on the new earth, there will be no seas. 
 My faith in God is sufficient to believe that if it were 
 necessary, he could and would make the new earth 
 large enough to meet the demands. ' ' 
 
 Bill Lakeman's eyes wandered thoughtfully away 
 over the cornfield and across the meadow. This time 
 with the eye of a naturalist he saw the beauty of the 
 world around him. 
 
 *'I can't conceive," he said finally, "what the beauty 
 of the redeemed world would be. Even in its present 
 condition it is full of marvelously beautiful things. 
 But we have been taught so long that we must go off 
 into some ethereal place to spend our eternity, that I 
 can't grow accustomed to the thought of spending it 
 here on earth." 
 
 ''I'll tell you, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said, ''that 
 was the only thing I ever learned about the gospel 
 of Christ that was a disappointment to me. But I 
 must confess that when I learned that this world was 
 to be our dwelling place in eternity, I was disappointed. 
 Yet that is what the Bible teaches, and it is what we 
 must believe if we believe it to be the word of God. 
 
I 
 
 THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 227 
 
 You see, I have always been a lover of the stars, and 
 the thought of getting near to them was a source of 
 much delight to me.'* 
 
 ' ' I can imagine a dreamer like you feeling like that, ' ' 
 Bill Lakeman said, *'yet I can't really see why you 
 should feel that way about it. Suppose you were sent 
 to some other star to spend your eternity. What 
 assurance have you that it would be a more pleasant 
 place to live than our own earth ? ' ' 
 
 ''None whatever," Alfred answered. 
 
 ''You have no evidence," Bill Lakeman went on, 
 "that it would be a more beautiful place, either, have 
 you?" 
 
 "No," Alfred said, "I know that is just a whim. But 
 you see we don't give up our old ideas easily. Some 
 of them still want to cling. Now I know that in eter- 
 nity we must live either on this or some other planet. 
 I never have been one of those who believe that heaven 
 is just some spot off in space where we will fly 
 around throughout all eternity and play a golden harp, 
 with nothing else ever to do, and nothing to alight on. ' ' 
 
 The young man laughed as he continued: 
 
 "You see, I never was overly industrious, and that 
 always seemed a little too long to fly around in space. 
 I think after the first two or three thousand years, 
 that I would like to feel some good old earth under my 
 feet again." 
 
 "Yes, and I, too," the old man agreed, "and I think 
 that after I had done nothing but play a golden harp 
 for one or two thousand years, I'd be ready to say, 
 Lord, send me back to plowing corn." 
 
 The old man's laugh was good to hear. 
 
228 THE CALL AT EVENINQ 
 
 ''No, sir/* he said, ''the Lord can count me in favor 
 of his plan. That suits me better than anything I have 
 heard yet. Jupiter and Neptune might be a good place 
 to spend eternity but I'll be mighty well satisfied with 
 the earth, when the Lord gets through making it over. ' ' 
 
 "I feel this way about it," Alfred said: "if this 
 earth is as beautiful as it is now, without either God 
 or Christ here, I think I can be satisfied with it when 
 we have them both. Yes, I'm like you, Mr. Lakeman; 
 when I give the matter thought, I am satisfied with 
 the Lord's arrangement. Do you think that will be a 
 new thought to Stanley ? If it is I have a mind to make 
 it the basis of our study to-night. Do you think you 
 could stand to go over it again?" 
 
 "Do it," the old man said. "I not only could stand 
 it but would enjoy it. Nothing is really learned that 
 is gone over only once. I'm sure both Stanley and 
 Jennie would enjoy it, too. Now, do you see that, young 
 man? That sun is just naturally running a race with 
 itself to get behind the hill. I've got milking and a 
 score or other things to do before study time." Suit- 
 ing the action to the word, the old man scrambled to 
 his feet. Alfred, owing to his disablement, was some- 
 what slower. 
 
 "Let me milk for you, Mr. Lakeman?" he asked. 
 
 Bill Lakeman looked at him in surprise. 
 
 "Can you milk?" he questioned. "Now do you know, 
 I had you figured out to be one of those city men who 
 have never seen a milk bucket." 
 
 ' ' Well, I have, ' ' Alfred affirmed laughingly. ' ' It has 
 been a number of years, but I think I could still man- 
 
THE EARTH'S GREAT DAY 229 
 
 age. For the past ten years, prior to the time I went 
 into the mission field, I was in a bank in the city, keep- 
 ing books. But I still remember my days on the farm. 
 In fact haying time never comes but what I feel like 
 I wanted to get out and pitch hay once more.'* 
 
 ''And feel it under your feet,'' Bill Lakeman com- 
 mented, ''when you tramp it down on the load, and 
 smell it when it is being cut." 
 
 "It all goes together," Alfred said. "I don't think 
 the man ever lived who was once a farmer, who could 
 forget those things and not want to go back to them 
 occasionally." 
 
 During the conversation, they were walking slowly 
 toward the house. Bill Lakeman paused suddenly in 
 the path and faced Alfred. 
 
 "Do you suppose," he asked, "that in that time we 
 read about, we will plow, sow, and thresh?" 
 
 "I don't know," Alfred answered, "but it seems 
 to me that when those lions we read about, eat straw 
 like the ox, somebody must do some threshing. Don't 
 you think so?" 
 
 "It looks that way, boy; it looks that way," the old 
 man said, reflectively. 
 
CHAPTER 23 
 HENRY PARSONS RETURNS 
 
 AUNT MARIA," Jennie said, "Henry Parsons is 
 home and father has invited him to dinner. 
 Will you tell the girl in the kitchen to see that 
 we have a nice dinner? You may tell her also, auntie, 
 that we enjoyed the salad she made the other evening, 
 very much. She may serve it again if she cares to." 
 
 **Law, Mis' Jennie, you sure will make dat girl happy. 
 She so proud of dat air salad, she'd work hard all 
 day, just cause you praise hit." 
 
 "Indeed, I think she deserves the praise. Not many 
 people can make such salad. I mean to have her teach 
 me.'' 
 
 "Now, Mis' Jennie, don' yo' come pesterm' about 
 de kitchen, spilin' yo' hands an' yo' complexion. Let 
 niggers and' po white trash do dat kin' o' work. Yo' 
 daddy always gin yo ' plenty. Yo ' stay outen de 
 kitchen. ' ' 
 
 "Well, auntie," Jennie laughed, "I might be 'po' 
 white trash' myself some day and it will be nice to 
 know all those things. Yes, I think I must know how 
 to make that salad." Then more seriously, "If Tom is 
 in the kitchen when you go out, auntie, tell him I 
 would like to see him." 
 
 A moment later, Tom, who acted as general care- 
 taker of the grounds around the Burnside residence 
 
HENRY PARSONS RETURNS 231 
 
 as well as stableboy, stood before Jeiinie, shifting 
 awkwardly from foot to foot. He was evidently much 
 more at home among his flowers or about the barn 
 than in the more elaborate elegance of the house. 
 
 "We will want a bouquet of your most beautiful 
 roses for the dining table, Tom, ' ' Jennie said. * ' Those 
 you arranged for us last were very artistic. You may 
 also choose the flowers for these vases.'' 
 
 She designated two beautiful creations which stood 
 empty on the mantle. 
 
 Tom's eyes lighted. He gave one glance at the 
 vases, taking in the entire surroundings, and his de- 
 cision was made. Unconsciously he was an artist. In 
 that brief survey he did not see the empty vases, but 
 nodding above their containers of blue and gold, great 
 white chrysanthemums raised their waxen faces and 
 seemed to laugh at their own reflection in the mirror 
 behind them. 
 
 ''When you have done that," Jennie went on, *'I 
 want you to drive over and bring Cynthia down. Tell 
 her I want her to take her lesson this morning. Also 
 tell her, Tom, that I would be glad if she would wear 
 her new gown. I want to see it on her once more. Can 
 you remember all that ? " 
 
 *'Yes, Miss Jennie," he said and left her. 
 
 When she was alone, Jennie chided herself. 
 
 *'0h, duplicity," she murmured laughing silently, 
 yet in her eyes there was no repentance. 
 
 "Now if you will stand out there just a little farther, 
 
232 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Cynthia. There, you see the art of standing is quite 
 as important as any other part of the singing. Face 
 this way please; now we will try that arpeggio once 
 more.'' 
 
 Cynthia's soft, full voice took up the run. The ascen- 
 sion was made smoothly, while the voice came out on 
 the high note clear and free. However, on the deeend- 
 ing scale Jennie's critical ear detected a slight break. 
 
 ''Once more, Cynthia," she directed. ''Place the 
 tones very carefully and don't lose control." 
 
 Cynthia tried again, this time with perfect success. 
 She took the run, both ascending and descending, with 
 perfect balance of voice. The full round tones filled 
 the whole house with their harmony. Not the house 
 only, for a young man who was just at that moment 
 ascending the front steps stopped in his ascent, hoping 
 once more to hear the wonderful melody of that voice. 
 
 A glance in the mirror had told Jennie he was com- 
 ing, and she congratulated herself upon the selection 
 of that especially melodious arpeggio which so suited 
 Cynthia's voice. Jennie was more than pleased when 
 she saw him slip quietly into a chair out of the ob- 
 servation of the singer whose unconscious profile was 
 turned toward him, and whose eyes, imbued with the 
 spirit of her work, looked off into the distance. 
 
 Jennie struck very softly a few opening chords. 
 
 "Nothing classic, to-day, Cynthia. Just this old 
 song that I love." 
 
 What was it that swept Cynthia into the past? Back 
 in heart to the old days when there had been no dis- 
 tinction of class brought about by wealth ; back to the 
 
HENRY PARSONS RETURNS 233 
 
 time when the widow and her daughter had forgotten 
 their poverty in the warmth of the love of their friends ; 
 when friend met friend on their merits, and social posi- 
 tion did not exist. Whatever it was, touched the tones 
 with sadness, and added a hundredfold to their appeal. 
 
 "Oh! don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt, 
 
 Sweet AHce with hair so brown; 
 Who wept with deUght when you gave her a smile, 
 
 And trembled with fear at your frown? 
 In the old churchyard in the valley, Ben Bolt, 
 
 In the comer, obscure and alone, 
 They have fitted a slab of granite so gray, 
 
 And sweet Alice lies under the stone." 
 
 The workers in the kitchen stopped their work to 
 listen. The lawn mower which had been clattering 
 about the grounds was silent, while Tom leaned on 
 its handle. 
 
 But the one most affected was the world-weary man 
 on the front porch. And strange as it may seem, he 
 had not recognized himself as world-weary, until the 
 strains of that old song fell upon his ears, and he too 
 had been carried into the past. 
 
 As the song progressed he was no longer the rich 
 man's son, pampered and spoiled, weighted down hy 
 life's unnatural affectations, but a barefoot urchin 
 playing on the lake shore and among the trees. He 
 could see himself once more climbing among the ruins 
 of the old gristmill which stood around the bend in 
 the road. And always by his side, constant playmate 
 and companion, was a flaxen-haired girl, the daughter 
 
234 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 of the widow who had lived across the way. By a 
 strange flight of imagination the flaxen-haired girl 
 became the sweet Alice of the song, while he was the 
 Ben Bolt. 
 
 Verse by verse, as the words fell from the singer's 
 lips, the man was carried back, back over the days 
 of his childhood before the world had left its mark 
 on his face; and a great heart hunger came to him, 
 hunger for the clean, free days of the past, and for the 
 old companionship which had been so constant and 
 true. He realized suddenly that the influence of that 
 companionship had stayed with him through the years, 
 knew that the purity of the past had somehow kept 
 him from the depths. 
 
 The widow's cottage no longer stood across the way. 
 His father had bought it, not wishing a blot on the 
 landscape. And he had lost his ''sweet Alice." She 
 was swallowed up somewhere in the world. Unless — 
 the man suddenly felt that all that was worth while 
 in his life was gone. Strange power of suggestion ! In 
 his mind was a picture of a marble slab in the church- 
 yard where they had so often played. In fancy he 
 drew near and read the name thereon. 
 
 With the pain of that thought, he sprang to his feet 
 and ended the song abruptly with his knock. 
 
 When the maid admitted him into the room, Jennie 
 occupied her seat at the piano and Cjnithia still stood 
 where she had been singing. As she turned toward 
 him, Henry Parsons stopped short in astonishment, for 
 there before him stood his companion of the old days, 
 his sweet Alice of the song. He had thought of her as 
 
HENRY PARSONS RETURNS 
 
 "The full, round tones filled the whole house with theii 
 harmony." 
 
236 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 gone with the past, but as she stood before him, beauti- 
 ful in her maturity, a great wave of gladness swept over 
 him and he unconsciously extended his hand. 
 
 Jennie came to the rescue. She had stolen a sly glance 
 at her friend and saw the color slowly fade from her 
 cheeks, and Jennie felt the first wave of repentance 
 sweep over her. She almost regretted that she had 
 secretly plann-ed to have Cynthia with her when he 
 should come. With perfect composure she advanced 
 to extend to him the cordial welcome due him. As she 
 gave him her hand and looked into his face she realized 
 that the years of his absence had transformed him 
 from an uncouth lad into a polished man of the world. 
 He was a liandsome man, much as his father had been 
 handsome before him — not of feature or form, but 
 rather from a strange suppression of power. Jennie 
 felt that he was bom to be a leader of men, a decided 
 influence for either good or evil. There was that about 
 him which Jennie could not define. It was not particu- 
 larly dissipation, hardly deep enough for that, yet 
 a vague something which savored of a too intimate 
 knowledge of the world. Unconsciously she drew from 
 him. 
 
 *'You will remember Cynthia also, I think, Henry," 
 she spoke. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," he responded warmly. 
 
 Cynthia gave him her hand shyly. She was sud- 
 denly very much afraid. And Jennie knew that though 
 in the future she might wear what she pleased, becom- 
 ing or otherwise, she would get only friendly considera- 
 tion from Henry Parsons. While Cynthia, true to her 
 
HENRY PARSONS RETURNS 237 
 
 kind, did not see the stamp of the world on his face ; she 
 saw only the man he might have been, the man she 
 loyally believed he would be, and was content. 
 
CHAPTER 24 
 THE BUILDING OF THE CHURCH 
 
 WHEN ALL were in their places once more be- 
 neath the honeysuckle, and Alfred had offered 
 prayer with which they began their study, he 
 stood beside the chair before them and said : 
 
 ''The matter of choosing a subject for our study 
 to-night has been something of a puzzle to me. One 
 thing, however, seems to impress itself on my mind. 
 That is, 'the kingdom of God, or the church which 
 Christ established while here on earth.* " 
 
 "I was thinking of asking you to talk about the 
 church," Bill Lakeman said. "I have been thinking 
 about that all afternoon. There's a lot I want to ask 
 about the church." 
 
 "There is one thing we are going to do to-night," 
 Alfred went on, "and that is, take several texts. I 
 will read the first one; it is found in the first part of 
 the second verse of the ninth chapter of Luke. 
 
 " 'And he sent them to preach the kingdom of God.' 
 That will be my text. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Lakeman, you may read Luke 16: 16." 
 
 "'Since that time the kingdom of God is preached, 
 and every man presseth into it.' " 
 
 "That, Mr. Lakeman, will be your text. Yours, 
 Stanley, will be found in the first sentence of 1 Co- 
 rinthians 12:13." 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 239 
 
 '' 'For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one 
 body.'" 
 
 ''Miss Lakeman, you may take 1 Peter 2: 5, the first 
 sentence. ' ' 
 
 " 'Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual 
 house.' " 
 
 "Mr. Bennett, the last sentence in 1 Corinthians 
 3:9." 
 
 " 'Ye are God's building.' " 
 
 "Now let us each keep our Bibles marked, so we 
 can turn to our texts easily. We will now proceed with 
 our study, ' ' 
 
 Stooping, he lifted from the ground a small round 
 case, from which he took several short bits of metal. 
 Pulling them apart here, adjusting there, he stood be- 
 fore them a large rack. Delving once -more into the 
 case he brought out and commenced unfolding sheets 
 of paper. Stanley's curiosity overbalanced his con- 
 trol. 
 
 "What are you going to do with that thing?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "This will be used in our study," Alfred answered 
 laughingly as he attached the paper to the rack. Then 
 from his pocket he produced a piece of crayon and stood 
 before them ready for action. 
 
 "Now we want," he said, "to find out as much as 
 we can about the church as left here by Christ. As it 
 is always best to begin at the bottom and work up, 
 we will look first to the foundation and corner stone. 
 To this end. Miss Burnside, will you read 1 Peter 2:6?" 
 
 " ' Wherefore also it is contained in the scripture, Be- 
 
240 , THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 hold, I lay in Zion a chief corner stone, elect, precious : 
 and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded.' *' 
 
 *'Our next passage will be found in Ephesians 2: 19- 
 22. Mr. Lakeman, read it please." 
 
 *' 'Now therefore ye are no more strangers and for- 
 eigners, but fellow citizens with the saints, and of the 
 household of God ; and are built upon the foundation of 
 the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being 
 the chief corner stone; in whom all the building, fitly 
 framed together, groweth unto a holy temple in the 
 Lord : in whom ye also are builded together for a habi- 
 tation of God through the* Spirit' " 
 
 **We have learned," Alfred commented, "that the 
 most important personage in the temple is Jesus Christ, 
 'in whom all the building, fitly framed together, grow- 
 eth unto a holy temple [ch^'ef corner stone].' " 
 
 As Alfred spoke he had been busy with his crayon 
 on the paper before him. When the words were finished, 
 he stepped back, revealing to their view the result of 
 his peculiar markings. 
 
 ''Now, Stanley, from the verse your father read, what 
 did you learn about the foundation?" 
 
 "It says built upon the foundation of the apostles 
 and prophets." 
 
 "Very well." 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 241 
 
 A. few more marks: 
 
 "We have now the foundation and corner stone. 
 Let us look further and see what is builded into the, 
 building. Miss Lakeman, will you read 1 Corinthians 
 12:28?" 
 
 '' 'And God hath set some in the church, first apostles, 
 secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, after that mira- 
 cles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, diver- 
 sities of tongues.' " 
 
 *'Now, Miss Burnside, Ephesians 4: 11." 
 
 " 'And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; 
 and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teach- 
 ers.' " 
 
 ''Mr. Bennett, will you read now 1 Timothy 3:2?" 
 
 " 'A bishop then must be blameless, the husband of 
 one wife, vigilant, sober, of good behavior, given to 
 hospitality, apt to teach.' " 
 
 "Also the eighth verse." 
 
 " 'Likewise must the deacons be grave, not double- 
 tongued, not given to much wine, not greedy of filthy 
 lucre.'" 
 
 "Now, Stanley, what officers are mentioned in Titus 
 1:5?" 
 
 Stanley studied the passage carefully. 
 
 "Elders," he said. 
 
242 
 
 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman, what is mentioned in Hebrews 5:1?*' 
 
 ''High priest," Bill Lakeman answered. 
 
 ''If we turn to Luke 10, we find where Christ also 
 sent out seventies." 
 
 During the readings, Alfred had again been busy 
 with his crayon. 
 
 "These then," he said, "were a part of the building 
 which the Apostle Paul said was fitly framed together 
 and which was to grow into a 'holy temple.' 'As lively 
 stones,' he tells us, 'are built up a spiritual house.' 
 The officers 'set' in his church. 
 
 "Christ himself, the great head, the 'chief corner 
 stone,' an 'high priest after the order of Melchisedec. ' 
 
 "Apostles. 
 
 "Prophets. 
 
 "Evangelists. 
 
 "Pastors. 
 
 ' ' Teachers. 
 
 "Bishops. 
 
 "Deacons. 
 
 "Elders. 
 
 "Seventies." 
 
 "Well," Bill Lakeman commented, "the church of 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 
 
 243 
 
 Christ to-day appears to me to be short a few stones 
 at that rate/' 
 
 ''I guess you are right," Alfred said as he exposed 
 to their view once more the results of his drawing. 
 
 ''We now have the church of Christ, Mr. Lakeman. 
 
 What is wrong with it?" 
 
 ''Well." The old man studied the drawing closely. 
 "It's a little better than some I've seen because it 
 has the officers in it that the Bible speaks of. But 
 it's like my idea of the church of to-day; it's dead." 
 
 "You are right, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred answered. 
 ' ' That will not do for the church of Christ, for it lacks 
 all that makes it useful or effective as an 'holy temple.' 
 Evidently our work is not complete. The Apostle 
 James tells us that the body without the spirit is* dead, 
 
244 THE CALL AT EVENINGi 
 
 and Christ's church as he left it here was not dead. 
 Paul asserts that 'our gospel came not unto you in 
 word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, 
 and in much assurance.' When Christ left his church 
 here it was more than a dead form. He gave unto 
 them the Holy Spirit to be an 'Abiding Comforter' in 
 his church and kingdom. So that whenever the church 
 of Christ is truly operating on the earth, there will 
 be found 'abiding' the Holy Spirit to give power and 
 light." 
 
 ''I wish that were true," Bill Lakeman asserted. 
 
 "It is true, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred answered ear- 
 nestly. ' ' Christ gave that gift to his church, and where- 
 ever that church operates you will find there Christ 
 working with them through his Spirit." 
 
 "Yes, that church," the old man repeated, uncon- 
 vinced. 
 
 "We will need to know," Alfred continued, abandon- 
 ing the subject, "some of the ways in which the Holy 
 Spirit imparted light and understanding to the church. 
 Let us all turn to 1 Corinthians, twelfth chapter. You 
 will notice that Paul is speaking of the gifts of the 
 Spirit, those things by which we may know that the 
 Spirit is truly operating in the church; its means of 
 granting light. We will begin at the eighth verse. 
 Miss Lakeman, will you read?" 
 
 Aunt Sophronia adjusted her glasses and read : " 'For 
 to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom.' " 
 
 "Just a moment," Alfred broke in; "then 'wisdom' 
 is one of the gifts of the Spirit to the church. Let's 
 put it on our chart." With a sweep of his arm he de- 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 245 
 
 scribed a perfect circle on the paper before him. Bill 
 Lakeman smiled as he saw a small round window appear 
 on the side of the building he had designated as ' ' dead. ' ' 
 Quickly the word '^wisdom" appeared in the circle. 
 
 "All right, Miss Lakeman/' 
 
 '' 'To another the word of knowledge by the same 
 Spirit.' " 
 
 *' Another window." 
 
 " 'To another faith.' " 
 
 Again the deit circle was made and a window labeled 
 ''faith" occupied its position. Bill Lakeman was 
 watching the proceeding closely, his head on one side 
 and a merry twinkle in his eye. 
 
 "Well, you've improved the looks of the building," 
 he said. "But I guess no church would quarrel with 
 you over those points." 
 
 "No, I think not," Alfred answered; "however, I 
 am not trying to pick a quarrel with any church. I am 
 only drawing an illustration of the church left here by 
 Christ. The quarrel will probably come, however, as 
 a natural consequence," he ended laughing. 
 
 "Now, Miss Lakeman, you may finish your verse." 
 
 " 'To another the gifts of healing by the same 
 Spirit.' " 
 
 "Are you going to put that in your church?" Stanley 
 asked as he saw Alfred once more apply the crayon. 
 
 "No," Alfred answered him, "I am not going to put 
 anything in my church, Stanley; however, Christ did 
 put it in his. Now, Miss Burnside, will you read the 
 next verse?" 
 
 " 'To another the working of miracles; to another 
 
246 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; to another 
 divers kinds of tongues.' '' 
 
 Bill Lakeman arose from his chair and came to Al- 
 fred's side where he watched him closely as one by 
 one the windows were added to the building. Some- 
 times his gaze wandered from the picture growing under 
 the artist's fingers to the face of the young man as he 
 bent to his work. On his own face there was a shadow, 
 a question, yet he held his peace. 
 
 * ' We have now, ' ' Alfred looked up from his drawing, 
 ''the church of Christ as organized (framed together), 
 and lighted by the power of the Spirit. Yet our build- 
 ing is not complete. It lacks a door, a means of en- 
 trance. Mr. Bennett, perhaps if you will read the thir- 
 teenth verse, it will help us out along this line." 
 
 *' 'For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one 
 body.' " 
 
 "Then baptism is the door by which we may enter 
 his church (body) and kingdom. A few evenings ago 
 we learned from our study that faith, repentance, and 
 baptism of the water (by burial or immersion) and 
 of the Spirit (through the laying on of hands) were 
 the first principles of the doctrine of Christ. So 
 they must also be builded into his building." 
 
 He was quiet a moment, working. 
 
 "Now, Stanley," he said, "I want you to read one 
 more passage of scripture: Mark 16:15-18." 
 
 " 'And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, 
 and preach the gospel to every creature. He that be- 
 lieveth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that be- 
 lieveth not shall be damned. And these signs shall 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 
 
 247 
 
 follow them that believe : In my name shall they cast 
 out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they 
 shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly 
 thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on 
 the sick, and they shall recover.' " 
 
 "In this manner,'' Alfred commented, ''Christ him- 
 self designates the powers of the Spirit which was 
 
 placed in his church." A moment's utter silence pre- 
 vailed as Alfred placed the finishing touches on his 
 building ere he pronounced it complete. 
 
 "That is the church of Christ," he said, "as I find 
 it taught in the Scriptures. Mr. Lakeman, does it still 
 look dead?" 
 
 "No, it doesn't look dead, Mr. Stewart. Your picture 
 does not, but that church is dead. I never drew it out 
 on paper as you have done, but I've studied this sub- 
 
248 THE CALL AT EVENING' 
 
 ject a lot of times. What you have drawn there is the 
 church as Christ left it here, all right ; but what benefit 
 is it to us for you to teach us about it? That church 
 is dead," the old man went on sadly. *'It lived per- 
 haps a century, then the apostles died. The prophets 
 had died earlier. So the foundation of apostles and 
 prophets wasted away. The seventies were heard of 
 no more. I think the doors must have fallen off their 
 hinges. The world didn't want the miraculous so they 
 boarded up the windows, leaving only the three little 
 ones at the top. Yes, Mr. Stewart, I figure that it is a 
 pretty dead church after all." 
 
 ''Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said, ''your statement is 
 true. That's just about what happened to the church 
 Christ left here. Man was not satisfied, and tampered 
 with it, regardless of the warning the Lord had given 
 that men should not take from, or add to. 
 
 "You are not the first one who has seen this con- 
 dition, Mr. Lakeman. The Apostle Paul by the gift 
 of prophecy looked forward to it. He said: 'Let no 
 man deceive you by any means ; for that day shall not 
 come, except there come a falling away first, and that 
 man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition.' 
 
 "Paul knew the church would fall away, yet the pic- 
 ture is not all dark, ' ' the young man went on. " Any 
 who will give the matter serious thought will come to 
 the same conclusion you have reached. The church lost 
 its spiritual power, lost the organization given it by 
 Christ' yet these things were not lost for eternity. 
 Eemember this: Christ said, "Upon this rock I will 
 build my church and the gates of hell shall not prevail 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 249 
 
 against it.' He did not say that the tide of battle 
 should never go against the church. But he did promise 
 that it should not prevail. The ultimate victory will 
 be with the church Christ organized.'' 
 
 ''I hope you are right, boy," Bill Lakeman said. ''I 
 certainly hope you are right. But I can't see how it 
 is possible. It looks to me like the gates of hell have 
 prevailed a good long time. A good many hundreds of 
 years have passed since the church you have pictured 
 there was working on earth." 
 
 ''Yes," Alfred said. ''I know it, Mr. Lakeman. That 
 church ceased to work here on earth for a time, times, 
 and the dividing of time, which is estimated by Bible 
 students to be 1,260 years. That is the period of what 
 is termed the apostasy of the church which we will con- 
 sider to-morrow night. I think I have kept you long 
 enough for to-night. It is getting dark now. How- 
 ever, before we leave I want to summarize what we 
 learned to-night. 
 
 ' ' Christ organized a church and was himself the chief 
 corner stone. There was in that church a quorum of 
 twelve apostles. There were prophets." 
 
 ''I'd like to ask you a question before you go farther, 
 Mr. Stewart," Jennie Burnside said. "There were no 
 prophets after Christ's time, were there?" 
 
 "Many of them," Alfred answered her. "The twenty- 
 first chapter of Acts mentions some of them especially 
 who were prophets in Christ's church and calls them 
 by name. I know the world would have us believe 
 that prophets were done away when Christ came. But 
 investigation will show that not only were they not 
 
250 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 done away, but that there were many more after 
 Christ's time than before ; for the Spirit was poured out 
 mightily in the church and many 'spake in tongues and 
 prophesied.' " 
 
 ''One more question, please," Jennie said. "You 
 would not expect the church of Christ to be organized 
 like that to-day, would you?" 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Well, you see the apostles are all dead. You 
 couldn't expect to have them." 
 
 Alfred thoughtfully pulled a leaf from the honey- 
 suckle at his side. 
 
 "Your question, Miss Burnside," he answered, "is 
 an important one. Upon the answer to that question, 
 hangs the right of every church which comes before us 
 to-day, to its claims to be the church of Christ. If 
 Christ intended, as many claim, that there should be 
 only twelve apostles and no more, then any of these 
 churches may truly be the church of Christ. But if, 
 as I believe, Christ placed in his church the apostolic 
 office, intending that office to remain in his church, we 
 will need to-day to look for that church which has 
 apostles in it if we would find the church of Christ.' I 
 do not mean that this one thing alone would answer 
 that question, but it is among the things by which we 
 should be able to indentify the church of Christ." 
 
 "How can you tell about that?" Stanley asked. 
 
 "Only by finding out how it was with the church 
 Christ left. If there were never more than twelve 
 apostles, then it would look as if the first claim was 
 true. If, on the other hand, we find that one after 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 251 
 
 another became apostles in the church as long as the 
 Spirit of God manifested itself to the church, or until 
 the church 'fell away/ or went into the wilderness, 
 then we can be assured that when that church is re- 
 stored, there again will be apostles in it, for it will be 
 identically the church of Christ." 
 
 ^'Can you do that?" Stanley asked again. 
 
 ' ' I think so, ' ' Alfred returned. ' ' I have a little chart 
 here in my case which I drew up along that line. I'll 
 just hang it here over the picture of the church and 
 you can study it for a while. Now it does not appear 
 that these were all apostles at the same time. It is 
 more evident that as one dropped from the apostolic 
 office another was ordained to take his place." 
 
 THE FIRST TWELVE 
 
 1. Simon, called Peter. 
 
 2. Andrew, his brother. 
 
 3. James, son of Zebedee. 
 
 4. John, his brother. 
 
 5. Philip. 
 
 6. Bartholomew. 
 
 7. Thomas. 
 
 8. Matthew. 
 
 9. James, son of Alpheus. 
 
 10. LebbEeus, surnamed Thaddeus. 
 
 11. Simon, the Canaanite. 
 
 12. Judas Iscariot. 
 
 ORDAINED LATER 
 
 13. Matthias, Acts 1 : 25, 26. 
 
 14. Barnabas, Acts 13 : 1-4 and Acts 14 : 14. 
 
252 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 15. Saul, Acts 14:14 and Acts 13:1-4. 
 
 16. Silvanus, 1 Thessalonians 1:1; 2:6. 
 
 17. Timotheus, 1 Thessalonians 1 : 1 ; 2 : 6. 
 
 18. James, the Lord's brother, Galatians 1:19. 
 
 19. Apollos, 1 Corinthians 4:6-9. 
 
 "Well, that's more than twelve," Stanley commented 
 when he had studied the chart before him. 
 
 ''My contention is this," Alfred said: ''Christ him- 
 self set those offices in the church. He never at any 
 time said they should not be there or that they should 
 be taken away. I do not believe any man or set of 
 men had a right to take from the church any office or 
 set of offices which Christ placed there." 
 
 "You're right, boy, in that," Bill Lakeman approved. 
 
 All was quiet a moment, and Alfred took up once 
 more his interrupted summary. 
 
 "We found in the church," he said, "apostles, proph- 
 ets, evangelists." 
 
 "Most churches have evangelists, haven't they?" Jen- 
 nie asked again. 
 
 "Not in the church," Alfred answered. "We do find 
 such a title attached to certain men among the churches. 
 They are generally working for any church. An evan- 
 gelist would preach in this city for one church to-day; 
 next month you would probably find him preaching for 
 another church whose teachings and belief radically 
 differ from the one for whom he preached to-day. 
 Christ set his evangelists ' in the church. ' He never in- 
 tended to make spiritual jumping jacks out of them." 
 
 Bill Lakeman laughed but said nothing. Jennie con- 
 tinued her questions earnestly. 
 
BUILDING THE CHURCH 253 
 
 *'Do you not regard those men as broad minded ?'* 
 she asked. ''That seems to me only an evidence that 
 they are not narrow." 
 
 *'To me," Alfred said thoughtfully, ''the ministry 
 of Christ are left in his stead, as physicians to the 
 church, quite as much as they are left to be ministers to 
 convert the world. 'Feed my sheep,' was Christ's in- 
 structions. Look after 'the flock,' Paul warned. Now 
 if as these men, who preach as readily for one denomina- 
 tion as for another, will tell us it takes all these churches 
 to make the church of Christ, it is then their duty as 
 spiritual physicians to combat the disease and dis- 
 order they find in the body of Christ. What would you 
 think of Doctor Lakeman here, if you called him to 
 combat a severe case of stomach trouble and when the 
 diagnosis was made he would refuse to mention that 
 disordered condition, and would only assure you that 
 the lungs were in perfect working order? You wouldn't 
 think of him as a broad-minded physician; you would 
 look upon him as a moral coward, who was afraid to 
 look the real trouble in the face and fight it. Now, 
 that is the condition of the religious world, as I see it. 
 To-day, when I went down town, I passed a certain 
 corner on which, almost facing each other, stood two 
 great church buildings. Now, if they are both the 
 church of Christ, why were they not worshiping under 
 the same roof, listening to the same instructions from 
 the same minister? The answer is easy: they could not 
 agree upon certain doctrinal points. In other words, 
 there were schisms, divisions, or disorders among them. 
 Now if one of these spiritual physicians, called evan- 
 
254 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 gelists, came along do you think he, in preaching to 
 these two congregations, would attack those disagree- 
 ments or disorders and set them right, that they might 
 in the future worship in unity; or would he ignore 
 those points of difference and preach only along those 
 lines where he knew he would find agreement?" 
 
 ''You would never know," Bill Lakeman said, ''that 
 a difference existed, to listen to his sermons." 
 
 "That is why," Alfred said, "that instead of con- 
 sidering those men broad minded, they appear to me to 
 be moral cowards." 
 
 "Before we say good-night," the young man con- 
 tinued, ' ' I wish you would each take a list of the officers 
 found in Christ's church, also a list of references. 
 Check it over carefully for yourself, for this is a vital 
 question and I do not want you to take my word for 
 the matter, but rather seek the truth for yourselves. 
 Those officers are: 
 
 "Apostles. Elders. 
 
 ' ' Prophets. Seventies. 
 
 "Evangelists. High priests. 
 
 "Pastors. Teachers. 
 
 "Bishops. Deacons. 
 
 ?> 
 
 And so the night fell softly over hill and valley, 
 forest and lake, enveloping in its sweet restfulness all 
 the world. 
 
CHAPTER 25 
 JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 
 
 CLANKETY— clank ! Bang ! Clankety— clank. ' ' 
 John Bennett looked up from his loom over which 
 he bent, with a slight frown. One of the slender 
 silken threads which wove itself almost imperceptibly 
 into the fabric snapped, and John Bennett felt that he 
 had cause to frown. He stepped quickly to the side of 
 the loom and threw back the lever. Instantly the great 
 machine was silent, the shuttle poised just on the point 
 of making its dash between the crossed layers of woolen 
 and silken threads which it was rapidly transforming 
 into cloth. 
 
 ''What's the matter, Bennett?'' 
 
 The foreman stopped by the loom and watched John 
 Bennett make the tie. 
 
 "Those silk threads are hard to manage, sir," the 
 weaver replied. ''One of them just broke but I think 
 it will not show much when the piece is finished." 
 
 "That's well tied, Bennett." 
 
 The foreman straightened up from his inspection of 
 the work. "That's the reason I gave you this piece 
 to weave. I wouldn't trust another weaver in this house 
 with that piece of cloth." 
 
 "It's coming out well," he added, running his hand 
 over a portion of the finished product. Then he laughed 
 is he stood back and surveyed the cloth before him. 
 
256 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 *'I suppose somebody will call that brown. The green 
 and red are hidden just enough to give it that effect. 
 How do you like it, Bennett?" 
 
 ''It's the finest thing that has passed through my 
 hands this year, sir. It will easily form your lead." 
 
 ''I think so myself," the other answered. He leaned 
 forward suddenly and ran his finger over certain por- 
 tions of the cloth. 
 
 ''Now that's just what I wanted," he said. "That 
 blue thread is given just the right amount of promi- 
 nence. That's the beauty of the piece to me. Not the 
 things the ordinary person will see, but the things 
 they must look for to find. Yes, sir, that's well woven. 
 Don't hurry it. I'll try to get you an increase of rate 
 on this so you can afford to go carefully." 
 
 "Thank you, sir." John Bennett raised his hand to 
 throw his loom once more into action. The foreman 
 stopped him with a gesture. 
 
 "What's the matter, Bennett?" he asked. "Your 
 hand is not often unsteady. Didr^'t you have your 
 usual drink this morning?" 
 
 "I did not, sir!" John Bennett cut the words short. 
 It was evident he battled with ill humor. It was also 
 unpleasant to have a matter brought to mind which he 
 was trying so hard to forget. 
 
 "You haven't quit, have you?" the other questioned 
 mercilessly. 
 
 "I have!" The words almost hissed from his teeth. 
 The foreman versed in his kind knew something of his 
 suffering. He shook his head and the gesture seemed 
 to say it was useless. He had seen men of John Ben- 
 
JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 267 
 
 nett's class try to quit before. He had not meant to 
 be unkind, but his lack of faith only irritated the al- 
 ready overwrought nerves of the man before him. 
 
 ' ' I tell you I have quit. ' ' His raised voice was 
 drowned by the steady roar of the machines about him. 
 Only the foreman heard. ''It will probably kill me to 
 do it, but I'd rather be dead than be a beastly drunk- 
 ard.'' 
 
 ''There, there, Bennett, I didn't mean to offend you. 
 I was only surprised, that's all. I'm glad to see you 
 quit. You're too valuable a man to throw yourself 
 away on drink. Why, I'd a fired you long ago if I 
 could have filled your place. Stick to it, Bennett; 
 stick to it. You have my best wishes." 
 
 The man moved on in his tour of inspection. After 
 a while l^e looked back to where John Bennett still 
 stood by the side of his silent loom. 
 
 "Poor devil," he murmured. 
 
 Then he saw the object of his solicitude put on his 
 battered hat and go out. 
 
 "I thought so," he continued his self-communion. 
 "He had to go for his drink. Couldn't stand it any 
 longer. Well, that would have been the end sooner or 
 later, so it really doesn't matter." 
 
 However, the foreman was mistaken. John Bennett 
 had not gone for a drink. He walked up the street away 
 from the direction of Mike Farrell's saloon and turning 
 the corner, took the short s'de street which led to the 
 little patch of timber on the edge of town. In his soul 
 raged a terrific battle. His very being was on fire, and 
 as he walked he w^et his dry lips often. He tore open 
 
258 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 the front of his shirt hoping vainly that a cool draught 
 of air might ease the parched condition of his throat. 
 
 "Hell," he murmured. ''It's hell on earth. I wish, 
 God, I wish that bullet had gone home." 
 
 He reached the end of the street and dropped down 
 on a hollow log under the shade of a great oak tree 
 and let his head sink into his hands. Great drops of 
 sweat n'ot caused by the heat of the day, gathered on 
 his brow. The muscles of his face were drawn and his 
 huge frame trembled with the intensity of his suffering. 
 After a while he sprang to his feet. 
 
 ''It's no use," he said fiercely. "I can't do it." 
 He started forward as though to retrace his steps, 
 then stopped suddenly. 
 
 "Of course you can't do it — not alone." 
 He looked around him in astonishment, trying to lo- 
 cate the voice ; then he laughed. He knew that he only 
 heard in fancy the words Alfred Stewart had said to 
 him that day in the woods; knew that memory had 
 tricked him and the words only came to him out of the 
 past. He sat down once more on the log and let his 
 mind run back to that other day. He heatd again the 
 prayer and understood now the words he had not com- 
 prehended then. 
 
 "Of course you can't do it — not alone." 
 His head dropped once more into his hands, but not 
 now with an attitude of despair, and the first prayer 
 he could remember passed his lips. 
 
 "God help me," he prayed. "God help me." 
 The shriirmill whistle announced that the noon hour 
 had arrived. Immediately from the doors of both mill 
 
JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 259 
 
 and factory poured a steady stream of workers. The 
 machinery was quiet and very soon the streets were de- 
 serted. 
 
 John Bennett did not move when the whistle blew. 
 Indeed he had not even heard it in its blowing. He 
 still sat on the log beneath the oak and thought of the 
 struggle before him. There would be no dinner for 
 him this day; he had quite forgotten it. The hope- 
 lessness had gone from his face, and while the burn- 
 ing in his veins was unabated, yet from some source 
 had come strength of spirit to withstand. Finally as 
 one o'clock drew near, he arose and retraced his steps 
 toward the mill and his loom. He had taken up again 
 his burden and felt again his determination to win. 
 
 He shuddered when he realized that this was pay 
 day and that he would find it necessary to walk with 
 full pockets past Mike Farrell's saloon. In fancy he 
 could see the crowd who usually aAvaited him there, who 
 knew of this night and were always eager to join him 
 in the carousals which accompanied it. As he threw 
 his loom into action, he uttered, unconsciously now, 
 his prayer, ''God help me." 
 
 As the afternoon wore away, Alfred Stewart looked 
 up from his study and consulted his watch. 
 
 ''It's later than I thought," he murmured hastily, 
 putting his books away. ' ' I promised Bennett to walk 
 home with him from the mill. I'd hate to miss him 
 to-night." 
 
 A few moments later he entered the lane on his way 
 to town. In his heart he feared that his delay might 
 be fatal, and endeavored to increase his walking speed. 
 
260 THE CALL AT EVENINQ 
 
 He felt a degree of impatience that the crutch should 
 so retard his progress. About one hundred yards north 
 of the lane entrance he encountered the first sidewalks 
 leading into town and breathed a sigh of relief, for 
 here he could walk much faster. Choosing the most 
 direct route to the plant which furnished so many of 
 the poor of Leesburg with employment he hurried on, 
 thankful that Leesburg was not large and that not 
 many blocks separated him from his destination. 
 
 Turning a corner suddenly, he saw the brick and 
 frame buildings composing the plant, at the foot of a 
 hill about four blocks distant, and smiled as he realized 
 that the mill was still running. He would, after all, he 
 thought be in time. The smile with that thought was 
 short lived, for accompanying a sudden burst of steam 
 the whistle screamed its message and Alfred could see 
 far below him the stream of employees pouring from 
 its doors. 
 
 He quickened his pace, hoping that John Bennett 
 would wait for him, and sickened as he thought of the 
 whisky-weakened will of the man who must trust him- 
 self to pass the saloon alone. When Alfred reached the 
 mill, all was quiet. John Bennett was nowhere in sight, 
 but down the street he saw a desolate figure and knew 
 that John Bennett was making the trip alone. 
 
 The young man hastened after him hoping vainly to 
 overtake him. He longed to throw the crutch away and 
 try his school-day sprinting, but prudence overruled 
 and he banished the thought. Presently John Bennett 
 turned the corner and Alfred lost sight of him. Once 
 more he tried to increase his speed for he knew that 
 
JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 261 
 
 not far from that corner was the levee and Mike 
 Farrell's saloon. 
 
 He did not know that several blocks behind him, can- 
 tering easily, were Spider and Stanley Lakeman. Stan- 
 ley had recognized the figure with the crutch and smiled 
 in anticipation of overtaking him. A short word to 
 Spider and the little animal broke from her canter and 
 started off at a brisk pace. 
 
 Suddenly an exclamation broke from Stanley's lips: 
 ''Oh, that boy,'' he cried. ''Hey, Stewart," but his 
 voice was lost in the distance. 
 
 Alfred Stewart suddenly reaching the corner had seen 
 something which caused him for one brief moment to 
 stand as one paralyzed. Then, with one sweep of his 
 arm, he sent the crutch flying into the weeds and broke 
 into a run. Stanley groaned aloud when he saw him 
 limp painfully ere he lost sight of him behind the 
 buildings . 
 
 ' ' Oh, that foot, ' ' he said. ' ' Go, Spider. ' ' 
 
 As Spider took the corner on a dead run, Stanley 
 had another surprise, for he saw Alfred Stewart force 
 back the swinging doors of Mike Farrell's saloon, and 
 enter. 
 
 ' ' What in the world ? ' ' Stanley exclaimed, and threw 
 himself from the saddle, reaching the sidewalk with one 
 bound. Then he, too, pushed inward the swinging door 
 and was lost to view. 
 
 When Stanley Lakeman found himself inside Mike 
 Farrell's place this is what he saw: 
 
 At the rear of the room with his back to the wall 
 John Bennett crouched like a tiger ready to spring, 
 
262 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 his cheeks flushed, his eyes glowing with a fierce light. 
 Before him, measuring his full length on the floor, 
 stretched a man who was raising himself slowly to his 
 elbow. Stanley caught fleetingly the bewildered look 
 on his face. He had no time, however, to contemplate 
 these things, for John Bennett's catlike attitude sud- 
 denly materialized in a forward spring and as if with 
 one motion his arm flew out and caught with his doubled 
 fist, on the point of the chin, another who had dared to 
 interfere. The man's head flew back and Stanley saw 
 him crumple with a groan and fall in a heap against 
 the counter, carrying with him to the floor a shower of 
 broken glass. 
 
 John Bennett swung his arms wildly. 
 
 ' ' Come on ; make me drink if you can. Come on, ' ' he 
 yelled his challenge to a third of the same type who 
 was closing in on him. Stanley saw them meet fero- 
 ciously; then the thud of a falling body attracted his 
 attention to another part of the room. 
 
 Alfred Stewart was likewise engaged. His antago- 
 nist, more nearly matching his strength, had gone down 
 only after a lively struggle, and Alfred was panting 
 with labored breath as he stood with clenched fists 
 watching narrowly as the other endeavored to regain 
 his feet. 
 
 Then Stanley saw that which brought him into action 
 himself, for crouched and creeping, a malignant expres- 
 sion on his beastly face, Mike Farrell was slipping upon 
 Alfred from the back. Had he expected the attack, 
 Stanley could never have handled Mike Farrell, for 
 that individual had kept some semblance of order in 
 
JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 263 
 
 his saloon by sheer muscular force and none who knew 
 him dared go against him or against his sharp-spoken 
 orders. But Stanley did not know, and upon this fact 
 hung the outcome of that day's battle. Without hesita- 
 tion he grabbed the crouching figure by each shoulder 
 and threw him back against the door where his head 
 struck the jamb with such force as to stun him for a 
 time into inaction. Stanley stepped to Alfred's side 
 and stooping over pulled the man before him to his feet. 
 
 ''Now see here, Mart," he said, ''you go over there 
 and take that chair and behave yourself. It isn't 
 healthy for you to monkey around here. ' ' 
 
 The ruffian slunk away, muttering as he went. 
 
 Mike Farrell's befogged brain had cleared somewhat 
 and he struggled to his feet with a wicked gleam in his 
 eyes and a snarl on his lips which betokened no good to 
 his assailant. When he recognized his offender the 
 snarl died perceptibly on his lips. 
 
 "It won't do, Farrell," Stanley said. "You stay out 
 of this fight." 
 
 "You take him out," the enraged whisky vendor 
 spluttered, indicating Alfred. ' ' No man can come into 
 my saloon and raise hell with my customers — not while 
 Mike Farrell's got two good hands. Take him out, I 
 say." 
 
 But Mike Farrell did not venture again from behind 
 the counter. He stood there and poured a steady 
 stream of oaths at Alfred Stewart. 
 
 Meanwhile the fight in the rear of the room went on. 
 John Bennett found himself facing now an antagonist 
 who would not go down before his blows. His own 
 
264 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 face was bleeding from a cut above the eye while his 
 opponent's sight was dimmed by the pain of a broken 
 nose. When Stanley and Alfred were free once more 
 they saw the two men locked in a terrific embrace. 
 Back and forth they swayed, neither daring to break 
 his hold upon the other. They staggered against the 
 table and the clatter of breaking glass filled the room ; 
 then John Bennett's foot struck against the reeking 
 cuspidor and the slimy, filthy substance which filled it 
 oozed into the great cracks of the floor and finally cov- 
 ered its surface. John Bennett made a desperate effort 
 to break the other's hold, but his foot come in contact 
 with the slippery mass and he staggered backward. He 
 was saved from a fatal fall only by striking the old 
 iron stove, left standing from the winter before, and 
 used now only as a receptacle of refuse and a container 
 of tobacco juice. As it was, the old stove was pushed 
 from its improvised brick legs and the pipe clattered 
 down upon their heads with a terrific din. Soot covered 
 and gasping for breath their embrace was broken and 
 by mutual consent they stood facing each other waiting 
 only the opportuiiicy to grapple again. 
 
 ''Here, you," Mike Farrell thundered, taking advan- 
 tage of the brief respite. ''Stop that fight; stop, I 
 say." 
 
 And both men, long accustomed to obeying that voice, 
 relaxed unbeaten. Yet on John Bennett's face was a 
 light of triumph. Not against his opponent; he had 
 not won there, but the greater battle with himself was 
 won, and he was glad. 
 
 "Come on, Bennett, let's go home," Stanley urged, 
 
JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 265 
 
 adding the weight of his own influence to the effect of 
 Mike Farrell's threat. With characteristic meekness 
 John Bennett joined them without once glancing at his 
 erstwhile enemy. 
 
 As the doors swung behind them they heard Mike 
 Farrell take up once more his interrupted stream of 
 profanity. 
 
 When they had gained the walk Stanley took charge 
 of the situation. 
 
 ''Come down to the creek, Bennett/' he said, **and 
 we'll see the extent of that cut on your face. It won't 
 do to let your wife see you looking like that. ' ' 
 
 They stepped through the dust-covered weeds to the 
 highway, crossed the road, and descended the bank to 
 where the waters flowed freely below. Here they washed 
 the blood and soot from his face and found that his 
 injury was only slight. 
 
 ''I don't understand this at all," Stanley said. "I 
 don't see how you ever got into that kind of a mess." 
 
 '*I knew it had to come," John Bennett replied. ''The 
 only way you can break with those fellows is with a 
 fight and I'm glad it's over. 
 
 "You see they were waiting for me. They knew it 
 was pay day at the mill and naturally expected I would 
 treat. I told them I had quit drinking and didn't want 
 to go in. They thought I was joking and of course 
 they all laughed. Then they knew I meant it. To re- 
 fuse to drink with them was in itself a personal insult, 
 and they knew I knew it. It might have been different 
 if South Johnson hadn't been in the crowd. He's never 
 satisfied so long as there's a man in the crowd he hasn't 
 
266 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 had a fight with. So my time with him was coming 
 anyhow. 
 
 ''When he heard me say 1 had quit drinking he in- 
 timated that I had joined the church, and they thought 
 that was a bigger joke than ever. He said: 'Well, I 
 guess you will take a drink, little man,' and they began 
 pulling me in. At first I'm afraid I didn't care enough. 
 You see I was burning up for a drink myself, and I 
 thought, 'Oh, what's the use?' But," he laughed as 
 though he felt quite guilty, "I found myself saying 
 over and over, 'God help me,' and I guess he did, for 
 when we were through that door it somehow looked 
 different to me. I can't see now how I ever willingly 
 stepped into it. I must have been blind. Something 
 seemed to come over me and I'd a died before I'd take 
 a drink. Just then somehow I wasn't afraid, although 
 I know that bunch. Some of them would have knifed 
 me before I got out if you fellows hadn't come. They 
 never would fight fair in a pinch. 
 
 "I knew what it meant, so I backed up against the 
 wall so they couldn't get behind me and told them if 
 they wanted to fight to come on, but I wouldn't drink 
 a drop of their damned stuff. Excuse me, sir," he 
 added turning to Alfred. That young man only smiled. 
 
 "I heard you say that," he said. "I came in just then. 
 They intended to double on you; I stopped part of 
 that." 
 
 "I'm glad you came, sir," John Bennett said; "I'd 
 forgotten that I had asked you, but I'm glad you came." 
 
 They climbed the bank again and stood once more 
 upon the highway. John Bennett pulled from his 
 
JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 267 
 
 pocket his pay envelope, unopened, and held it out for 
 their inspection. 
 
 "I'm going home now," he said with a glad ring to 
 his voice. "I'm going home to Mary." 
 
 Alfred Stewart held out his hand and John Bennett 
 wrung it earnestly. Stanley laid his hand on his 
 shoulder. • 
 
 "I'm mighty proud of you to-night, Bennett. That 
 was a great fight. A great fight." 
 
 Together they watched him go north along the levee, 
 cross the bridge, and disappear down the trail leading 
 to his home. 
 
 "I had started down there," Stanley said, "hut I 
 don't think I'll break in on that little woman's hour of 
 happiness. I'll see the babe to-morrow. Besides, that 
 foot of yours probably needs attention again. Oh, I 
 wanted to get hold of you when I saw you throw that 
 crutch away and run. How did you ever come to do 
 it?" 
 
 "I had to," Alfred said. "I was trying to overtake 
 Bennett because I was afraid for him to go past that 
 place alone. Just as I got to the corner I saw those 
 men pulling him into the saloon. They were taking him 
 in by force. When I saw that, I forgot all about the 
 foot. I'm afraid," he added laughing, "there was al- 
 most murder in my heart about then. I know there 
 was fight." 
 
 "Yes, I guess there was iight," Stanley agreed. "I 
 just wish you could have seen the picture you and 
 Bennett made when I got there. Oh, it was rich ! 
 But did you see Mike Farrell 's little game ? " 
 
268 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Yes, it would have been a great deal worse if you 
 hadn't come. Bennett and I couldn't have held them 
 all, but say, would you have believed Bennett was the 
 powerful man he is? He doesn't look it." 
 
 ''No, he doesn't," Stanley agreed. "He gave John- 
 son all he could handle, and Johnson is no scrub him- 
 self. It was a great -fight. 
 
 "I can't see," he said seriously, "why a civilized 
 country allows a place like that to run. I just can't 
 see it." 
 
 "Money worship," Alfred said. 
 
 They had retraced their steps to where the crutch so 
 hastily thrown aside still lay among the weeds. Stan- 
 ley recovered it and whistled to Spider. 
 
 "Now you get on and ride home," he ordered. "I'm 
 more than anxious to know the extent of the damage 
 done to that foot." 
 
 "It does hurt," Alfred admitted, "but I couldn't help 
 it; I just had to run." 
 
 "I know," Stanley said, "I'm not blaming you. I 
 think I would have blamed you if you hadn't. The only 
 thing now for us to do is to repair damages." 
 
 When they reached home they found Aunt Sophronia 
 carefully keeping the supper warm for them, while 
 Bill Lakeman arranged the chairs and tables under the 
 honeysuckles for the evening study. When Stanley had 
 examined the foot he seemed to be relieved. 
 
 "Not so bad as I feared," he said: "beyond a little 
 soreness I think there is nothing serious. But I'll tell 
 you I was afraid when I saw you run. Visions of a 
 man crippled for the rest of his life were going through 
 
JOHN BENNETT'S BIG FIGHT 269 
 
 my head. . . . That's just what I want, aunt. Here, 
 Stewart, keep your foot in this hot water while we eat. 
 That will draw some of the soreness out." 
 
 Supper over, they assembled once more beneath the 
 honeysuckle. Bill Lakeman was already in his chair 
 bending over his great Bible. 
 
 ''Father, where do you suppose I found Stewart to- 
 night?" Stanley asked as they came up to him. 
 
 The old man glanced at Alfred's crimson face and 
 scented a joke. 
 
 *'I couldn't guess," he said. 
 
 **In Mike Farrell's saloon. Now what do you think 
 of that?" Stanley set himself on the edge of one of the 
 tables and let his feet swing in boyish fashion. His 
 black eyes snapped with mischief. "That's not the 
 worst of it either. He was having a fight." 
 
 Bill Lakeman leaned back in his chair and looked at 
 his son keenly. There was a half smile in the glance 
 he shot at Alfred. 
 
 ''And where were you, Stanley, when you found 
 him?" 
 
 Alfred laughed heartily as the boomerang came back 
 at Stanley, but that young man was unshaken. 
 
 "Well, father, I'm not a preacher," he argued. 
 "Think of a preacher in a saloon!" 
 
 "Well, out with it," the old man laughed. "I never 
 could stop you when you wanted to tell anything." 
 
 So Stanley told his father of the fight at Farrell's, 
 and of John Bennett's victory. 
 
 Bill Lakeman was jubilant. 
 
 "That fight will do more," he declared, "to make 
 
270 THE CALL AT EVENING ; 
 
 him keep his pledge than anything else in the world. 
 Stewart, it was a lucky thing you missed him at the 
 mill. Yes, sir; that will be a great thing for Bennett. 
 But if you hadn't both been there it might have ended 
 differently. Yes, sir," he repeated, ''that was a good 
 day's work." 
 
 "There comes Bennett, now," Stanley said. ''Look 
 how he carries himself, his head up and his shoulders 
 back. Jove ! It looks good to see that kind of a change." 
 
 "He's won back his self-respect," Bill Lakeman said. 
 "That's the biggest thing for a man. When he can't 
 respect himself there is no foundation to build on. We 
 will now just begin to get acquainted with Bennett, 
 because he will begin to get acquainted with himself." 
 
 The object of their conversation swung through the 
 gate and up the walk to the honeysuckle. There was 
 genuine good fellowship in the "Good evening" with 
 which he greeted them. It was with a new grace of 
 manner that he took the chair Bill Lakeman offered 
 him. 
 
 "I wonder where Jennie is," Stanley said. "We 
 can't study without her." 
 
 "She'll be here soon," Bill Lakeman promised. 
 
 His prediction was fulfilled, for at that moment 
 Jennie and her mount appeared, emerging from the 
 grove. 
 
CHAPTER 26 
 WHAT BECAME OF THE CHURCH 
 
 LAST NIGHT in our study," Alfred said, ''we con- 
 sidered the church or kingdom of God, and Mr. 
 Lakeman made the statement, 'That church is 
 dead.' I think he voiced one of the great acts in the 
 tragedy of this world, for the statement is literally true. 
 The church organized and left here by Christ disap- 
 peared from the face of the earth. It is what we term 
 'the apostasy' of the church, or, as the Apostle Paul 
 puts it, the 'falling away.' So as we studied last n^ght 
 the church organized, we will to-night follow that 
 church through its subsequent history, through its 
 sickness and death. We will use for a foundation of 
 our study, 2 Thessalonians 2:3: 'Let no man deceive 
 you by any means : for that day shall not come, except 
 there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be 
 revealed, the son of perdition.' In connection, Mr. 
 Lakeman, will you read 2 Timothy 4:3?" 
 
 " 'For the time will come,' " Bill Lakeman read, 
 " 'when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after 
 their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, 
 having itching ears.' " 
 
 "I bring these two passages," Alfred said, "to show 
 you that the Apostle Paul fully understood in his time 
 just what would take place. How deeply he felt this 
 we learn from his parting plea to the elders of Ephesus. 
 
/ 
 
 / 
 . • / 
 
 / 
 
 272 THE CALL AT EVENING ' 
 
 Miss Burnside, will you read it from Acts 20:28-30?*' 
 ** 'Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all 
 the flock, over the which the Holy Ghost hath made you 
 overseers, to feed the church of God, which he hath 
 purchased with his own blood. For I know this, that 
 after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in 
 among you, not sparing the flock. Also of your own 
 selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to 
 draw away disciples after them. Therefore watch, and 
 remember, that by the space of three years I ceased not 
 to warn every one night and day with tears.' " 
 
 ''Thus we see,'* Alfred went on, "how earnestly the 
 apostles fought away this condition for, it seems, the 
 first few centuries. However, in the third century the 
 words of the apostles began to be fulfilled. Speaking 
 of that time Mosheim tells us that the 'face of things 
 began to change in the Christian church.' The apostle 
 had said, speaking directly to the ministry: 'Of your 
 own selves shall men arise speaking perverse things.' 
 So it came that in the third century the ministers began 
 to forget the admonition of Christ to go without 'purse 
 or scrip,' and indulged themselves in luxurious living. 
 The bishop set up a throne and surrounded himself with 
 ministers. They began to burn incense in many of the 
 churches and to observe many rites and ceremonies. 
 By the end of the fourth century, Mosheim again tells 
 us, there was left only a 'mere shadow of the ancient 
 church government.' 
 
 "By the latter part of the fifth century, prayers to 
 the saints and to the Virgin Mary were introduced. In 
 the sixth century, the church had so far forgotten 
 
WHAT BECAME OF THE CHURCH 273 
 
 the meek and lowly Nazarene that whole nations were 
 forced to accept Christianity on penalty of death. 
 Orders of monks were introduced and papal power be- 
 came supreme. During this century the monks became 
 very rich through gifts from the people. The use of 
 holy water was also introduced during that period. 
 
 ''In the eighth century the worship of images became 
 so great that some of the Christians of the Greek 
 church formed themselves into a body of image break- 
 ers, to destroy what they believed to be idolatry. These, 
 however, were excommunicated in 869. 
 
 ''In the ninth century the doctrine of transubstan- 
 tiation was introduced. Predestination also began to be 
 taught. 
 
 "In the tenth century the worship of the Virgin Mary 
 became so intense as to almost equal that of Christ. It 
 was also during this century that the rosary was 
 introduced. 
 
 "In the eleventh century the popes received the title : 
 'Masters of the world.' 
 
 "From the twelfth to the sixteenth century the 
 church waged the terrible persecutions against those 
 who undertook to translate the Bible and allow it to be 
 read by the people. 
 
 "From the sixteenth to the eighteenth century we 
 see the coming forth of the different reformers. 
 
 "Now let us look at the church. By this time the 
 quorum of twelve apostles had disappeared ; the seven- 
 ties were gone; the ordinance of baptism had been 
 changed. The laying on of hands for the gift of the 
 Holy Ghost was not practiced after the fifth century. 
 
274 THE CALL AT EVENING / 
 
 Prophets no longer warned the people. Teachers were 
 forgotten. The organization of the church was 
 changed; the offices of popes and cardinals had come 
 into existence. 
 
 ' ' So the church was dead, and in its place stood one 
 utterly unlike the church Christ had left. He had given 
 them warning: 'Ye shall not add unto the words which 
 I command you, neither shall ye diminish aught there- 
 from. ' 
 
 "The church had done both. Therefore the church 
 was dead. No longer did she exist divinely commis- 
 sioned from on high. 
 
 ' ' This has been a long statement, yet it is only a few 
 of the changes which were made in the church. The 
 Lord knew what was coming and sent forth his mighty 
 warning through John the Revelator. The picture is 
 given in the twelfth chapter of Revelation. We will 
 listen while Mr. Lakeman reads the first verse." 
 
 " 'And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a 
 woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her 
 feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars.' " 
 
 ''We are given here," Alfred commented, "a' picture 
 of the church in its power, 'clothed with the sun' and 
 crowned with twelve stars." 
 
 "What do the twelve stars mean?" Stanley asked. 
 
 "Christ left with the church," Alfred answered, "a 
 quorum of twelve apostles who had the oversight of the 
 church. As long as these remained the church retained 
 her power; she kept her magnificent robe, described as 
 the sun. Now, Stanley, read the next two verses, 
 please. ' ' 
 
WHAT BECAME OF THE CHURCH 275 
 
 '' 'And she being with child cried, travailing in birth, 
 and pained to be delivered. And there appeared an- 
 other wonder in heaven ; and behold a great red dragon, 
 having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns 
 upon his heads. ' ' ' 
 
 ''Well, I don't understand that at all,'' Stanley said. 
 "If the woman is the church, what is the dragon?" 
 
 ' ' The second verse of the twentieth chapter of Reve- 
 lation will answer your question, Stanley. You may 
 read it if you like." 
 
 " 'And he laid hold on the dragon,' " Stanley read, 
 " 'that old serpent, which is the Devil, and Satan, and 
 bound him a thousand years.' " 
 
 ' ' The Devil ? ' ' Stanley questioned. ' ' This is getting 
 interesting." 
 
 He turned the pages once more and read again the 
 passages Alfred has assigned him. 
 
 " 'A great red dragon, having seven heads.' Now 
 what does that mean?" he questioned further. "I 
 never heard of Satan having seven heads before. ' ' 
 
 Alfred and Bill Lakeman laughed at his impatience. 
 
 ' ' Well, I want to know about this, ' ' Stanley defended, 
 "There's no use in its being in the Bible if we cannot 
 understand it." 
 
 "You are right, Stanley," Alfred answered; "it 
 would not be in the Bible if it could not be understood. 
 Revelation 17 : 9 tells us what the seven heads are. Mr. 
 Lakeman, will you look it up?" 
 
 The old man studied the verse carefully. 
 
 "The seven heads are seven mountains," he said. 
 
276 THE CALL AT EVENING / 
 
 ''Seven mountains! The Devil with seven moun- 
 tains!" Stanley's voice was incredulous. 
 
 ''Stanley," Alfred said, "can't you think of seven 
 hills that have been prominent enough in the history of 
 the world to attract the attention of even the God of 
 heaven ? ' ' 
 
 "I can't think of anything," Stanley answered after 
 a moment's thought, "except the seven hills upon which 
 Rome was built. 
 
 ' ' That must be it, ' ' he added musingly. ' ' That place 
 was devilish enough to suit anybody. Was that it?" 
 
 "I think you have guessed it," Alfred answered. 
 
 "Well," Stanley said again, "do I dare ask any 
 more questions?" 
 
 "Ask your questions, Stanley," his father encour- 
 aged; "it's the only way to learn." 
 
 "I'm glad to have you ask questions," Alfred said. 
 "Each question helps us to arrive at a clearer concep- 
 tion of the truth. I think you are entirely right in 
 associating the dragon of the vision we are considering 
 with Rome. Rome at the time of this vision ruled over 
 practically all of the known world. The kings of the 
 earth came to it with their riches and partook of its 
 pleasures and its sins. You have studied the history 
 and know the full extent of her sinfulness. It is small 
 wonder that the Devil, or dragon, chose it for his seat 
 of government. There was possibly no spot on earth 
 so wicked. 
 
 ' ' Thinking of it in that light, can you see the fulfill- 
 ment of the vision in the attitude of Rome toward the 
 early Christian church?" 
 
WHAT BECAME OF THE CHURCH 277 
 
 **I guess that's right," Stanley replied. ''Rome did 
 all in her power to exterminate the Christians. It's 
 remarkable what they had to endure during the first 
 three or four centuries." 
 
 ''If we will turn to the seventh chapter of Daniel," 
 Alfred went on, "we will learn something more of this 
 matter. The Lord is here showing the prophet a picture 
 of the future, from the time in which he lived down to 
 the end. 
 
 ' ' We cannot take time to-night to read it all, but you 
 will see that Daniel in his vision is shown four beasts 
 coming up out of the sea (verse 3). He tells us that 
 the first beast is like a lion, the second like a bear, the 
 third like a leopard; but the fourth beast, the most 
 terrible of all, he cannot classify. Speaking of this 
 beast, he said it was dreadful, and terrible, and exceed- 
 ingly strong. He tells us it had great iron teeth, that 
 it devoured and brake into pieces, and stamped the 
 residue with the feet of it. He also tells us it had ten 
 horns (verse 7)." 
 
 ' ' Ten horns ? ' ' Stanley repeated. ' ' It must have been 
 the same as this dragon, for it had horns. ' ' 
 
 "Yes," Alfred agreed, "that is its mark of identifi- 
 cation. Now we will see if you were right in saying 
 it was Rome. Mr. Bennett, will you read verse 23?" 
 
 John Bennett read : " ' Thus he said, The fourth beast 
 shall be the fourth kingdom upon earth, which shall be 
 diverse from all kingdoms, and shall devour the whole 
 earth, and shall tread it down, and break it in pieces.' " 
 
 "Now," Alfred said, "we have learned that these 
 beasts represent kingdoms. The first beast or kingdom 
 
278 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 should be the one in which Daniel was living at the 
 time. That was the Babylonish kingdom. What fol- 
 lowed that? Can you tell us, Miss Burnside?'' 
 
 ''The Medes and ^Persians, I think." 
 
 ''The Medes and Persians," Alfred confirmed. "Now, 
 Mr. Lakeman, what followed the Medes and Persians ? ' ' 
 
 "The Greek kingdom under Alexander the Great." 
 
 "Thus the third beast," Alfred said, "represented 
 the Greek kingdom. We could prove this further by the 
 four heads and four wings if we had time. Each of 
 these kingdoms in its turn ruled over the smaller king- 
 doms around it." 
 
 "That brings us now to the fourth or most terrible 
 beast. Stanley, what was the next great world power 
 after the Greek?" 
 
 "Rome," Stanley answered. 
 
 "Yes," Alfred went on, "the bea^t with the seven 
 heads — mountains — and ten horns. ' ' 
 
 "What do you understand by the ten horns?" The 
 question came timidly from Jennie. 
 
 ' ' The Bible tells us that the ten horns were ten kings. 
 Rome differed from the others in this respect. Its life as 
 a strong nation was much longer than the other three 
 shown in the vision. Only one strong king each had 
 ruled over Babylon and Greece, only two strong kings 
 over the Medes and Persians, while ten strong kings 
 ruled over Rome. The other kingdoms had been 
 strong, yet when viewed in comparison with Rome 
 they had been weak." 
 
 "We will now turn again to the twelfth chapter of 
 Revelation," Alfred went on. "We have already 
 
WHAT BECAME OF THE CHURCH 279 
 
 learned that the beast stood before the woman ready 
 to devour her child when it was born. Miss Burnside, 
 how was the child saved from him ? ' ' 
 
 ''This says he was caught up to heaven/' Jennie 
 answered. 
 
 ''Yes," Alfred said, "when the child was born it was 
 caught away and taken back to the throne of God. Thus 
 it was that the kingdom of God was lost from the earth. 
 Christ was no longer with the church by the power of 
 his Spirit. Will you tell us, Stanley, if, after her child 
 was taken, the woman was able to stand longer before 
 the dragon?" 
 
 "This tells us that the woman fled into the wilder- 
 ness." 
 
 ' ' The church could not stand alone before the Devil. 
 The time had come when communication from heaven 
 to earth had ceased. History tells us how speaking in 
 tongues and prophecy vanished during the third and 
 fourth centuries. The elders were no longer made 
 'overseers by the Holy Ghost.' The people began to 
 heap to themselves teachers. The Lord no longer spoke 
 and said: 'Separate nnto me . . . for the work where- 
 unto I have called them.' So it was that the condition 
 Mr. Lakeman mentioned last night came about. The 
 kingdom of God and his Christ was taken back to the 
 throne and the church was lost in the wilderness. Now, 
 Stanley, read the last verse of this chapter." 
 
 " 'And the dragon was wroth with the woman, and 
 went to make war with the remnant of her seed, which 
 kept the commandments of God, and have the testi- 
 mony of Jesus Christ.' " 
 
280 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 **Now we will come once more to Daniel 7. Mr. 
 Lakeman, will you read verses 8 and 21 ? The prophet 
 is now speaking of the beast with the ten horns/* 
 
 ** 'I considered the horns,' " the old man read, '* 'and, 
 behold, there came up among them another little horn, 
 before whom there were three of the first horns plucked 
 up by the roots: and, behold, in this horn were eyes 
 like the eyes of man, and a mouth speaking great 
 things. I beheld the same horn made war with the 
 saints and prevailed against them.' '' 
 
 ''Now, Mr. Bennett, will you read Revelation 13: 7?" 
 
 " 'And it was given unto him to make war with the 
 saints, and to overcome them.' " 
 
 "So we see the fate of the church," Alfred said; 
 "her child taken from her back to God's throne, over- 
 come by the dragon, swallowed up in the wilderness." 
 
 "Well, I can't see," Bill Lakeman said, "why Christ, 
 if he" is greater than the Devil^and he undoubtedly 
 is — should allow the Devil to overcome his church. 
 Why didn't he use his power to protect them from the 
 Devil? That's what I can't see." 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said, "I should like to tell 
 you a story. There was once a great war. Opposing 
 each other in the conflict were two generals, the great- 
 est the world has ever known — so great, in fact, that 
 there never could be two others like them. 
 
 "However, one of these generals was much greater 
 than the other, so, although his force of men and the 
 number of officers under him were very small, when he 
 led them forth to battle they prevailed over the hosts 
 of the enemy. And the enemy feared them, for though 
 
WHAT BECAME OF THE CHURCH 281 
 
 so few they were mighty in battle. However, there came 
 a time when the captain of the little band found it 
 necessary to return to the capital city, to confer for a 
 time with his father, the king (for he was prince of 
 a mighty house), at the seat of government. 
 
 ''Before he left, he called his officers together and 
 left with them plans for the carrying on of the battle. 
 
 " 'If you will carry out these plans,' he told them, 
 'the enemy cannot prevail against you, and I, myself, 
 will send you special instructions by a messenger who 
 shall travel constantly from the capital city to you. 
 He will inform you of the movements of the enemy 
 before they take place, and you will know how and 
 where to meet them. 
 
 " 'In due time I will come again unto you, and re- 
 ward you greatly for your work. But be very care- 
 ful to do the things I have told you, that you may 
 not fall into the hands of the enemy.' 
 
 "With that he left them, and with his plans in their 
 hands they took up once more the battle with the hosts 
 before them. 
 
 "True to the prediction of their captain, they pre- 
 vailed, and felt very joyful whenever they saw the 
 hosts of the enemy put to flight by the fighting of their 
 little band. 
 
 "However, the victory was not always easily won, 
 for the captain against whom they fought was very 
 strong and very cunning. 
 
 "Some fell in battle, others, having served faith- 
 fully their allotted time, were recalled with honor to 
 their capital city, while the messenger, traveling con- 
 
282 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 stantly between the capital city and the army, told them 
 whom the captain wished to have fill their places, and 
 many other things of great importance to them. 
 
 ''But after a time those leaders ceased to study the 
 plans so closely and began to say within themselves: 
 'What need have we of the messenger? Are we not 
 able to go against this army alone ? Are we not mighty, 
 even mighty in battle? Behold these plans which he 
 has left us are not good. Many things in them are not 
 needful in our warfare. Therefore we will not ob- 
 serve to do them.' 
 
 "Now when the messenger had brought word of this 
 to the captain, he felt very sorrowful, and arose im- 
 mediately and dispatched unto them a mighty message 
 of warning, in which he pictured to them what the out- 
 come of this matter would be. 
 
 "When the messenger had brought to them this warn- 
 ing, they grumbled and complained and said: 'The 
 words of our captain are hard to be understood ; behold 
 his message is sealed, that we cannot understand.* But 
 they did not ask the messenger to explain to them the 
 message, and he returned to the capital city with a 
 sorrowful heart. And the captain mourned over his 
 army because they would no longer hear his words 
 and endeavor to do them. 
 
 " 'What message, prince,* the messenger asked 
 of him, 'would you have me take to the army? Perhaps 
 now they may hear me.' 
 
 "But the prince answered sadly: 'They have trans- 
 gressed the laws, changed the plans, and broken the 
 covenant (Isaiah 24: 5), therefore does the enemy over- 
 
WHAT BECAME OF THE CHURCH 283 
 
 come them (Revelation 13:7), and wear them out 
 (Daniel 7 : 25), and my mighty army is destroyed. Only 
 a few are left and the enemy shall greatly make war 
 with them. They are now given into his hands until 
 they have learned that their own strength and wisdom 
 are unavailing. Then you may go again with a message, 
 and among the few who will hear you will we organize 
 again my army and destroy utterly the enemy until he 
 shall be heard of no more. Rest here in peace until 
 the time shall be fulfilled,' " 
 
 The story ended, Bill Lakeman sat lost in thought for 
 some time; then he spoke: 
 
 ''I guess you are right," he said. ''I guess that's 
 just about what happened. They changed his laws and 
 twisted his church around in such a manner that you 
 couldn't even recognize her. Yes, I guess that's 
 right. The world wouldn't listen and Christ wouldn't 
 compel them to obey him; he just let the D'evil have 
 them for a time to see how they'd like the change 
 of rule." 
 
 ''Yes," Alfred said, ''the church was so changed 
 that even the apostles, who had seen her in vision, 
 saw her as a strange woman, when the spirit caught 
 her away into the wilderness. He saw the church, not 
 at enmity now with the great red dragon, but riding in 
 state upon his back. Let's turn and read it. Miss 
 Burnside, we will listen to you." 
 
 " 'So he carried me away in the spirit into the wilder- 
 ness,' " Jennie read, " 'and I saw the woman sit upon 
 a scarlet colored beast, full of names of blasphemy, 
 having seven heads and ten horns. And the woman 
 
284 THE CALL AT EVENINQ 
 
 was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked 
 with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a 
 golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthi- 
 ness of her fornication/ '* 
 
 "Now the sixth verse." 
 
 '* 'And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of 
 the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus: 
 and when I saw her I wondered with great admira- 
 tion.' '' 
 
 **Was it the same woman?" Jennie questioned. 
 ** Surely the church could not do that." 
 
 ''The same," Alfred answered, "yet not the same. 
 True, she was still called the church, but oh, the con- 
 trast! Changed in form and dress, she no longer 
 walked with Christ dressed in linen clean and white, 
 but partook of the favors of Rome and doled out her 
 sins and her darkness to the kings of the earth. Riches 
 decked her, but not the grace of the Spirit of God. 
 The time had come when the 'man of sin' exalted him- 
 self above 'all that is called God' and sat in what the 
 world considered to be the 'temple of God.' So the 
 church was dead. It no longer sent out its mes- 
 sage of salvation. In the words of Isaiah, 'The 
 Lord hath poured out upon you the spirit of deep sleep 
 . . . the prophets and your rulers, the seers hath he 
 covered.' The earth had entered its midnight of dark- 
 
CHAPTER 27 
 HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT — AND CAUGHT AGAIN 
 
 HENRY PARSONS stood at the. window in the 
 library looking out over the roadway and across 
 the strip of well-kept lawn to where in times 
 gone by had stood the widow's cottage, and to which, 
 still traceable to the close observer, a pathway led, 
 made by the repeated impress of childish feet. 
 
 The cottage had disappeared, but as the young man 
 gazed it stood once more in its place as of yore and 
 overflowed with life and cheer. 
 
 He whistled a low tune, and on his handsome, worldly 
 face was written a strange wistfulness which had so 
 lately come to him. Since his visit to the Bumside 
 home a picture had been in his mind, and vague and in- 
 tangible as it was, that picture was gradually working 
 a change in his heart. No longer the things which had 
 yesterday formed the structure of his life, seemed im- 
 portant. A relative view of values had not yet come. 
 It was, as we said before, nothing tangible, yet the un- 
 certain feeling of a man in whom a transformation of 
 character is taking place. 
 
 His father felt something of all this as he watched 
 him, and that feeling raised a fear in his heart that the 
 plans so fondly cherished might after all come to 
 naught. A moment later he asked: 
 
 **You dined at the Burnside's yesterday, I believe? 
 Did you find all well with them?" 
 
286 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 "Splendid," his son returned ; "it was a very pleasant 
 day. I'm afraid I remained longer than strict con- 
 ventionality demanded." 
 
 "Ah." Squire Parsons 's face lighted. After all, he 
 reasoned, his fears were groundless. 
 
 "She is a beautiful girl," he added meditatively, yet 
 watched his son closely. 
 
 Immediately there arose before the abstracted mind 
 of the younger man a picture of a beautiful girl with 
 golden-brown hair and starry eyes, which looked at 
 him half in fear, half in welcome, and he heard again 
 the strains of the song : 
 
 Oh, don't you remember 
 Sweet Alice, Ben Bolt? 
 
 "She is, indeed," he answered with more warmth 
 than the occasion demanded. 
 
 Squire Parsons 's smile was fraught with satisfaction. 
 He dismissed all fear from his mind and considered 
 for a time the best manner in which to broach the sub- 
 ject uppermost in his mind. 
 
 "Marion Burnside," he went on in a confidential 
 tone, "is in rather straitened circumstances financially. 
 That is not generally known. I think his daughter 
 does not know. All his investments have not turned 
 out well." 
 
 "Why, the woolen mills are paying, aren't they?" 
 the young man asked in surprise. "They seem to be 
 running steadily." 
 
 "Yes, but mortgaged," the father returned. "Every- 
 thing he has is mortgaged, even his home." 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 287 
 
 "I can hardly make myself believe it," Henry Par- 
 sons asserted again. ''I thought he was making money 
 fast." 
 
 ''Well, don't say anything," the older man cautioned. 
 "Most people think that, and he may pull through. I 
 figure there is about one chance for him, and that lies 
 with his daughter." 
 
 Henry Parsons 's eyes opened wide in astonishment. 
 
 ''How can that be?" he asked. 
 
 ' ' Well, if she marries right and her husband manages 
 her property carefully, they can clear the factory 
 and then in turn the home." 
 
 "I didn't know his daughter had any property," 
 the young man said half-questioningly. 
 
 "Yes," Squire Parsons answered, "she owns one 
 third interest in the C. P. Company. I think that in- 
 terest could be made to pay off her father's other in- 
 debtedness. As I said before it would all depend on her 
 husband." 
 
 "Well, I can't see," Henry Parsons observed, "where 
 the husband comes in. Why can't Marion Burnside 
 attend to her affairs himself ? " 
 
 "He has no control over this property and can't do 
 it, while a husband does have a certain amount of con- 
 trol over the wife 's property. ' ' 
 
 "Well," Henry Parsons said meditatively; "is she 
 planning marriage?" 
 
 "Not that I know of," Squire Parsons returned, 
 "but it's time she married somebody." 
 
 After a moment's silence the older man continued: 
 "Now if a young man like yourself, Henry, should 
 
288 THE CALL AT EVENING. 
 
 get in there, it would be a fine thing. When Marion 
 Burnside is gone Jennie is the only heir. Those woolen 
 mills are too fine a thing for a mortage like that to take. 
 A man may just as well take those things into con- 
 sideration when he chooses a wife." 
 
 Henry Parsons wheeled from his place at the window 
 and faced his father with a peculiar expression on his 
 face. 
 
 *'I have no desire to 'get in' there, father," he said 
 with a slight tone of anger in his voice. 
 
 His father frowned. Stormy scenes between them had 
 begun in the boy's childhood, and Squire Parsons did 
 not desire that they should be renewed so quickly 
 upon his return. Moreover, Squire Parsons was not 
 accustomed to having his plans fail or of having others 
 not concur with his arrangements ; hence the frown. 
 
 ''Why not?" he questioned, battling to keep control 
 of a temper which always flamed quickly in the sanctity 
 of his own home. 
 
 "Because I don't," the young man answered, taking 
 his stand once more at the window and resuming his 
 tune. 
 
 Henry Parsons knew his father, knew him well; and 
 the very tenseness of the atmosphere told him that one 
 of their old-time quarrels was brewing. It was such 
 a scene that had terminated in his departure several 
 years before. During the interval, his father had 
 cheerfully granted him an allowance as payment for the 
 peace to be obtained by his absence. 
 
 "Now see here, Henry," Squire Parsons began, striv- 
 ing to maintain the smoothness of his tone, yet the 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 289 
 
 grayish pallor which overspread his face belied the 
 calmness of the exterior. '^Let us talk this thing over 
 calmly. Jennie Burnside is a beautiful girl.'* 
 
 ''I know she is," Henry Parsons responded. 
 
 '^Furthermore, it is necessary for you to marry some 
 woman with means, for you are fully aware that you 
 will never be able to make your own way in the 
 world." 
 
 The young man recoiled before the words of his 
 father. It was evident that a tender spot had been 
 reached. 
 
 ''Whose fault is it?" he questioned darkly. "I am 
 just what you have made me." 
 
 "That being true," Squire Parsons went on not 
 heeding his son's remark, "you will need to marry in 
 that station which will not make effort on your part 
 necessary." 
 
 "Father," the young man turned and strode to the 
 center of the room where he faced his father, the light 
 of unfeigned anger in his eyes, "I know I'm no good, 
 but I'll tell you one thing. I'd rather go out there and 
 dig in a ditch for my living than go on being forever 
 a good-for-nothing, who can neither respect himself 
 nor demand respect from others." 
 
 "That sounds very nice," Squire Parsons sneered, 
 "but I'll tell you one thing, no son of mine digs in any 
 ditch. I've labored too long to build up my name for 
 that." 
 
 "Well, you needn't fear," his son asserted; "no 
 decent ditch foreman would give me a job if I asked 
 for one. You've done your work too well for that." 
 
290 THE CALL AT EVENING. 
 
 ''Now look here, Henry." The squire's voice trem- 
 bled as he spoke. ''That kind of talk won't get us any- 
 where. I'm going to tell you frankly that your marriage 
 to Jennie Burnside is necessary. I told you a moment 
 ago something of Marion Burnside 's financial standing. 
 My own is little better, and I have given this matter 
 a lot of thought. Some money has to be made and made 
 quickly to save us both. Your marriage to Jennie 
 Burnside would make this possible. We've got to get 
 hold of some stock Jennie Burnside owns. I didn't 
 intend to tell you this and would not if it had not be- 
 come necessary. We 've got to have that stock or we '11 
 go to the wall and then where will you be?" 
 
 "What have you and Burnside been doing?" his son 
 questioned unsympathetically. "You must have made 
 some bad moves somewhere." 
 
 "That has no bearing whatever on this question," 
 the other answered. ' ' The point is that the stock which 
 Jennie Burnside owns is our only means of extricating 
 ourselves." 
 
 "Then why don't you buy it?" the young man ques- 
 tioned again. "It can't be worth much to her. I 
 think she would be anxious to assist her father. All 
 you would need to do would be to explain the situation. 
 I can't see what more you'd want." 
 
 "We can't do that," his father answered. "She 
 wouldn't sell it if she could; she's too much like her 
 mother for that. Neither can she sell if she would. 
 That's provided in the wilL The plan I have outlined 
 to you is the only way. As it stands we can neither 
 buy nor control." 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 291 
 
 ''Have you asked her to use her voting power with 
 you? She could at least do that." 
 
 ''She won't," he said, growing impatient under his 
 son's questions. His stock of patience had never been 
 abundant; also in this case he wished to avoid too full 
 an explanation. Henry Parsons was not to be shut off 
 so easily. 
 
 "Why not?" he asked. 
 
 "I have told you before that she is just like her 
 mother. Marion Burnside's wife was the most ob- 
 stinate woman I ever met." 
 
 "Yet," his son went on coldly, "you seem anxious 
 to get one 'just like her' into the family." 
 
 The old man's frame trembled with suppressed rage. 
 
 "We must control that stock," he said. 
 
 "I can't see where my marrying her would help out 
 any," the young man went on. "I wouldn't own the 
 stock any more then than I do now. ' ' 
 
 "Under the laws of this State," his father explained, 
 ' ' a married woman has practically no legal rights. Her 
 husband can control her property." 
 
 "Well, I'd call that a rotten law," the son declared. 
 "Why don't you introduce a bill into the legislature 
 to change it?" 
 
 "Because I don't want it changed," Squire Parsons 
 returned. "We want control of that stock; we must 
 have it, and if that law is changed we can never get it. 
 No, sir, we are very well satisfied as it is. ' ' 
 
 "Jennie thinks, evidently, that you want to do some- 
 thing crooked and doesn't want to be a partner to it." 
 
 The parent's agitation was ill-concealed. 
 
292 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 **And you want me to marry a' woman to get con- 
 trol of her property ?'' 
 
 ''It's the only way/' 
 
 Henry Parsons looked at his father with a level eye. 
 When he spoke his voice was low but contained the 
 same level quality. 
 
 ''I won't do it." 
 
 ''Henry," Squire Parsons sprang to his feet, "think 
 well what you are saying. It will mean your own ruin 
 as well as mine. Think well what you say." 
 
 "I know perfectly well what I am saying," the 
 young man answered. "I mean it — every word. Ypu 
 spoke the truth a moment ago when you placed me in 
 the 'no-good' class. I'm no good; I'll acknowledge 
 that ; but I'm not low down. I'll not marry any woman 
 to make it legal to steal her property." 
 
 "Henry!" 
 
 "I don't care; that's \^hat it is; theft, legalized theft; 
 the worst type of theft in the' world. To do what you 
 ank would steal both her life and her property. Jennie 
 Burnside doesn't care for me and never would. If I 
 loved her I wouldn't marry her under those circum- 
 stances." 
 
 Every vestige of control fled. Squire Parsons paced 
 the floor in impotent rage, his frame and the muscles 
 of his face trembling with the fullness of it. 
 
 Henry had never seen his father like that, and while 
 he appeared calm, his own nerves and muscles were 
 tense under the strain. He did not know that his hands 
 were clenched until the nails penetrated the flesh, or 
 that his teeth came together like a vise. 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 293 
 
 The old man's fury gathered momentum as the mo- 
 ments passed, and finally entered that stage where his 
 flesh was cold and his nerves quiet with a cold, cal- 
 culating quiet; that stage where men of certain type 
 do murder, and others wreck the lives of their victims 
 in other ways ; the stage which no man enters and passes 
 without harm. 
 
 ''You have sealed your own doom," he said after a 
 time. ''By your own words is your allowance stopped. 
 You are on your own resources. This house is no longer 
 your home." 
 
 The expression of the young man's face did not 
 change, but his heart sank at the words uttered in that 
 cold, hard voice. Henry Parsons had never met the 
 world in combat, and in truth he was afraid. The nails 
 of his fingers went deeper into the soft flesh of his 
 hands, and he leaned against the mantel to hide the ex- 
 tent of his feelings. 
 
 "It shall be as you say," he answered finally, and 
 without another word left the room. 
 
 As the moments passed, Squire Parsons 's face lost 
 its pallor of anger and his features settled into the ex- 
 pression of one who has played for high stakes and 
 lost. The lines of his face deepened, his shoulders 
 drooped. He dropped into a chair before his desk 
 and his hands fell with a hopeless gesture on a paper 
 before him. He looked at it as though it possessed a 
 peculiar personality. 
 
 "Ruin," he muttered. "You are determined to ruin 
 me. Only six months; six months to win again what 
 
294 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 it has taken a lifetime to gain. How can I do it ? How 
 can I do it?" 
 
 In the mind of the man there was no thought of the 
 boy who had passed out of his home. There had been 
 no love, consequently there was no pang at parting. 
 The wealth he had built around him claimed the love of 
 his life, and with the danger of that slipping from him 
 there remained no room in his thoughts for lesser things. 
 
 When Henry Parsons left his father's library it was 
 with a heavy heart. The alert servant, perceiving his 
 intention of going out, brought his hat, coat, cane, and 
 gloves. The young man took the coat and scrambled 
 into it unassisted. The well-trained assistant did not 
 show the surprise he felt. With impenetrable face he 
 extended the cane and gloves. These were waved aside. 
 
 **I don't want them, James," he said. 
 
 ''While I am gone," he continued, taking the hat, 
 "I wish you would pack my trunk again. Have it 
 ready for removal this evening. ' ' 
 
 ''Very well, sir," was the response, and the young 
 man was gone. 
 
 The puzzled servant watched him descend the marble 
 steps, pass the granite pillars which marked the en- 
 trance to the grounds, and walk off rapidly down the 
 maple-shaded avenue. 
 
 When be reached the corner, young Parsons did a 
 strange thing. Leaving the town, he climbed the hill, 
 taking the walk leading to the cemetery. He was not 
 conscious of the distance he covered, but walked as 
 one in a dream. He passed through the swinging gate 
 and made his way over the graveled walk to the most 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 295 
 
 magnificent headstone in the city of graves. Here 
 he paused and laid his hand on the cold chiseled form 
 of a woman which topped the monument. Those who 
 remembered his mother said the likeness was good. 
 Rumor had it that the sculpturing, done by a master 
 from a splendid engraving, had cost his father a small 
 fortune. As to that, we do not know. But to the 
 heart of the man who had come to this strange spot 
 for sympathy, it returned only the chill and hardness 
 of stone. He dropped to his knees by the side of the 
 grave and buried his face among the flowers. Here he 
 felt nearer to the presence of the woman he could just 
 remember. 
 
 ''Would it have been different, mother, if you had 
 been here?" he questioned. ''Would you have taught 
 me to be worth something in the world?" 
 
 The flowers raised their faces bravely to him and 
 breathed out their perfume in calmness. The grasses 
 at his feet waved softly in the breezes that stirred, and 
 the notes of the bird singing in the tree above him 
 blended with the stillness. 
 
 "You would have courage if you were here, mother," 
 he murmured, passing his hand caressingly over the 
 grave. "I know you would be brave, but I'm afraid, 
 mother, and I'm a man. A man, afraid! I'm ashamed, 
 mother, but I'm afraid." 
 
 After a time the gentle quiet of the place, eloquent 
 in its suggestion of rest and peace, crept into his being 
 and his strange communion with the departed ceased. 
 
 He took a knife from his pocket and began carefully 
 to uproot some weeds just beginning to show among 
 
296 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 the well-kept grasses. The task gave him comfort. It 
 was the first time it had ever been performed by other 
 than the hands of a servant. After a time his mind 
 cleared and he was able to consider his situation in 
 life. The prospects before him seemed dark and his 
 face was troubled. An old habit, born in childhood, 
 brought a keen desire to confide in his boyhood friend. 
 
 ''How do you do?" 
 
 Henry Parsons looked up in surprise. He could 
 scarcely believe that the immediate subject of his 
 thoughts had spoken to him. Yet, as the girl stood be- 
 fore him, her soft brown hair in gentle confusion be- 
 neath the folds of a homemade but dainty sunshade, 
 he thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever 
 seen. Exquisite ladies in elegant gowns seemed in- 
 significant when compared with the simple, unconscious 
 beauty of the gingham-clad girl with her bucket and 
 spade. 
 
 "Cynthia, what are you doing here?" 
 
 The girl laughed softly. She had not failed to note 
 the tone of gladness which accompanied the words and 
 knew she was not unwelcome. 
 
 ''Evidently my task is similar to your own," she 
 responded. "I have been tending father's grave." 
 
 "It's the first time," he acknowledged, "I ever 
 tended mother's." 
 
 "I always tend father's," she said. "I wouldn't 
 think of letting anyone else do it, even if I were able 
 to hire it done. Don't you think they would rather 
 know we did it?" 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I think they would." 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 297 
 
 ** Aren't these flowers beautiful?" he asked after a 
 moment's silence, raising the face of one nearest for her 
 inspection. ''I didn't know father had a servant capa- 
 ble of raising them." 
 
 The girl's face flushed; she opened her mouth to 
 speak but the words did not come. The meaning of 
 her confusion came over him suddenly. 
 
 "Cynthia," he questioned, ''did you do it? Did you 
 plant the flowers on mother's grave?" 
 
 ''Well, you see," she defended, the flush deepening 
 painfully, "you were not here to do it, and the servants 
 can never do those things well. When I came here to 
 look after father's grave, it was no trouble to look 
 after the flowers on your mother's grave as well." 
 
 A great emotion swelled up in the young man's 
 heart. He leaned once more against the graven image 
 of the woman, but his eyes and thoughts were on the 
 other woman before him. The girl had turned her face 
 away, yet he could see its expression of shame that he 
 had found out. 
 
 "I didn't think you would ever know," she faltered. 
 
 ' ' Cynthia, ' ' he murmured at last. ' ' Cynthia. ' ' 
 
 "Henry," she pleaded, raising her eyes filled with 
 tears to his face, "I didn't mean any harm. I know 
 it wasn't my affairs, but the grave always seemed so 
 lonesome without the flowers. It was the loneliest 
 grave in the whole churchyard." 
 
 He reached out suddenly and drew the girl to his 
 side. 
 
 "Cynthia," he repeated, "I haven't words to thank 
 you. There is not a word in the whole English language 
 
298 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 that will express my thankfulness to you. It isn't for 
 this one thing alone, but for all the things you have 
 done and for all that you have meant to me. Can you 
 think, Cynthia, what it means to a man whom nobody 
 really loves to have one person in the world who has 
 had faith in him? I didn't know, when I was away, 
 what had become of you, but even when I forgot, your 
 influence never left me. When I came back and found 
 you at the Burnside home yesterday, the wonder of it 
 has been with me ever since. I don't amount to any- 
 thing, now," his voice broke and his head dropped 
 lower as he made the confession, ''but if I ever do the 
 credit will all be yours, dear girl; it will all be yours." 
 
 ''Hush, Henry," the girl commanded gently; "you 
 must not say those things about yourself. You must 
 not. A man's worth does not depend on what he has 
 done but upon what he is capable of doing, what he will 
 do. You cannot estimate your own worth. Your whole 
 life is before you — an untrained, uncultivated field. 
 What do you know of its value ? It will not be wasted, 
 I'm sure. As to the other, I have done nothing. All 
 that you credit to me is the striving of your own per- 
 sonality. The credit is your own." 
 
 The young man laughed, and there was a note of 
 gladness in his laughing. 
 
 "You don't understand, Cynthia," he said; "you 
 don't understand.*' 
 
 "I think I do understand," the girl continued, striv- 
 ing to loosen his hold on her arm. "Don't you think I 
 knew you well enough in those old days, to know that 
 you would never be quite content with a. useless life? 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 299 
 
 Don 't you think I knew that something within yourself 
 would be always striving to bring you above those 
 things, into a life of active usefulness? Don't you 
 think I can understand how that unconscious striving 
 would make you discontented and you would not al- 
 ways know the cause of your discontent? Yes, Henry, 
 1 think I do understand/' 
 
 "I believe you do," he said; ''I believe you do; and, 
 Cynthia, if I ever succeed, it will be because of the 
 courage I get from thinking you do understand." 
 ^'Have it your own way, Henry," the girl laughed, 
 .s she brushed a speck of dust from the foot of the 
 monument, and the man forgot his troubles in watching 
 the dimples come and go in her cheeks. 
 
 * * What would you think, Cynthia, ' ' he asked after a 
 moment's silence, **if I told you that father had run 
 me away from home?" 
 
 The girl's eyes opened wide. 
 
 *'Not seriously?" she questioned. 
 
 '* Seriously, " he returned. 
 
 ''Why should he do that?" 
 
 *'0h," the young man laughed a trifle bitterly, "I 
 didn't seem to agree with his plans; that was all." 
 
 ''Henry, tell me," she questioned; "did it have any- 
 thing to do with Jennie Burnside ? " 
 
 "How did you know?" he asked. "Have they men- 
 tioned it to Jennie? Did she tell you?" 
 
 "No, Jennie didn't tell me, but Jennie knows. She 
 knew before you came home. ' ' 
 
 "Does she think I am into that kind of a game? Did 
 she think that was why I went over yesterday?" 
 
300 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Jennie knows you had nothing to do with it. We 
 both knew you wouldn't do it. Jennie isn't narrow." 
 
 *'I regret very much that such a thing should hap- 
 pen." 
 
 ''What are you going to do now?" the girl went on. 
 "Where are you going?" 
 
 "I haven't decided yet," he answered. "I don't 
 really know what I can do. I'm willing to work, but 
 I don't know how. I don't know what to do." 
 
 "I don't think you can get work here," the girl 
 said. ' ' The woolen mills are all that employ men, and 
 Marion Burnside runs them. He and your father are 
 together in these plans. He wouldn't employ you." 
 
 "No," the young man said, "I hadn't expected that. 
 Besides, do you understand what a blow it would be 
 to father's pride to have me work in this town?" 
 
 "Forget your father's pride," Cynthia admonished 
 earnestly. "If you must earn a living, earn it where 
 and how you can. The best thing that could happen 
 to men like your father and Marion Burnside would be 
 for their pride to receive a blow that would knock it 
 completely from under them. It would hurt for a while, 
 but they'd be more human because of it. Let's go to the 
 seat in the bower there and plan what you had better 
 do. Do you remember the games we used to have at 
 that spot?" 
 
 "I think that's the place," he said laughing, "where 
 I almost scalped you, playing Indian." 
 
 "It is," she affirmed, "and I didn't speak to you 
 for fully five minutes." 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 301 
 
 "It doesn't seem so long ago, does it?" he asked, as 
 he held aside a bunch of roses to make room for her. 
 
 "Now the first question to determine," Cynthia said 
 when they were seated, "is your financial condition. 
 When we know that we can plan better. How much 
 money have you ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Practically none on hand, ' ' he said. ' ' I think I have 
 less than thirty. ' ' 
 
 "Well, I'd call that a great deal," Cynthia replied. 
 "No man's case is hopeless who has that much money. 
 I never see that much at one time, myself." 
 
 "Why, Cynthia, that wouldn't last two weeks in a 
 hotel." 
 
 "Of course not," she said, "you'll have to quit think- 
 ing in hotel terms, now." 
 
 The girl picked a beautiful red rose which seemed to 
 stretch toward her invitingly. 
 
 "Do you know where Grandma Mallory lives?" she 
 asked suddenly. 
 
 "I think so; a brick house down by the river?" 
 
 "Yes," she said, "the brick house with the deep, 
 shady lawn. You can get board and room there very 
 reasonably. That will give you time to plan further. 
 Now what other resources have you?" 
 
 "I have an income of my own, amounting to forty 
 dollars a month. Father has no interest in that." 
 
 "Oh!" the girl laughed heartily. "Oh, Henry!" 
 
 "Well, what's funny about that?" he asked. "It's 
 small enough, certainly. I'd hate to think there was 
 less of it. ' ' 
 
 Cynthia's laughter was uncontrollable. 
 
302 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Oh!" she said again. "I supposed this was a case 
 which required thought. Why, Henry, you're independ- 
 ent. There isn't much you can't do on forty dollars a 
 month." 
 
 ' ' Who could live on it ?" he asked. 
 
 ''Why, man, it would keep a family," she said, and 
 went off again into a paroxysm of laughter. 
 
 ' ' I have a whole lot to learn, I think, ' ' he said after 
 a while. 
 
 "Yes, but you'll learn," she said. "How much do 
 you thin*k mother and I live on ? " 
 
 "I couldn't guess." 
 
 '"Well, sixty cents a day when we do well; far less 
 when we don't." 
 
 "I can't conceive of it," he said. 
 
 "No more can I conceive of spending forty dollars a 
 month. That looks like a fortune to me." 
 
 "I wish I had trained for a profession," he said. 
 "To-day I saw Stanley Lakeman making a call, and I 
 wished I also could do something useful. ' ' 
 
 "Why don't you?" she asked. 
 
 "How could I?" he questioned. "Father would 
 neither consent nor help me to accomplish it. ' ' 
 
 "You have your forty dollars," she reminded him. 
 "Many a young man has put himself through school 
 with nothing to start on. You might have to work 
 some to help out, but it could be done." 
 
 "If I only could," he said. "I would be more than 
 willing to work, if I only could do it. ' ' 
 
 "You can," she said. "I'm sure you can." Then a 
 moment later: "What profession would you choose ?*' 
 
HENRY PARSONS SET ADRIFT 303 
 
 * ' You won 't laugh at me ?" he questioned. 
 
 ''Certainly not." 
 
 ''I'd like to be an osteopath." 
 
 "An osteopath!" she echoed. "Why, Henry, what 
 ever made you come to that conclusion ? ' ' 
 
 "I've felt that way for a long time," he said. "I've 
 read everything I could find along that line. I've 
 talked with men who are osteopaths. That would be 
 my choice of a profession." 
 
 "Then that is the thing you should study. I think 
 you should plan to enter school this fall." 
 
 ' ' There 's tuition to think about, ' ' he ventured. 
 
 "I know," she returned, "but the way will open up. 
 You can manage it somehow. " 
 
 As the girl spoke she arose from her seat. Seeing her 
 intention of leaving he held aside the blossoms once 
 more for her to pass. As he did so, neither of them saw 
 a stealthy form slip from behind the roses and steal 
 quietly to the fence where a sudden dip in the hill 
 hid them from view. 
 
 "You would encourage a confirmed pessimist, Cyn- 
 thia, ' ' he said, and laughed light-heartedly. ' ' I almost 
 feel like a man this minute." 
 
 "Henry!" The girl stopped on the graveled walk 
 and stamped her foot emphatically. It was Cynthia's 
 sign of utmost aggravation. "Don't let me ever hear 
 you say those degrading things about yourself again; 
 never! never!" 
 
 "Why, I only said I almost felt like a man," he de- 
 fended with his gay laugh. "That was bragging, 
 Cynthia, bragging." 
 
304 THE CALL AT EVENINQ 
 
 ** Henry, you will never grow up," Cynthia said as 
 she passed through the gate, and her laugh was only a 
 shade less gay than his own. 
 
CHAPTER 28 
 ''THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS*' 
 
 I'M AFRAID we will study without Stanley to-night/' 
 Bill Lakeman remarked as he placed the last chair 
 beside the tables and turned towards the meadows 
 to get the benefit of the evening breezes, which came 
 stealing from the east and lifted the locks of his gray 
 hair playfully as they passed. 
 
 *'I don't like to do that," Alfred Stewart returned. 
 * ' Why do you think he cannot be w^ith us ? " 
 
 *'He has a bad case on his hands," the old man re- 
 turned. ''He had his patient removed to the hospital 
 to-night. He may get away, but it's doubtful." 
 
 ''We'll hope for the best," Alfred said. 
 
 "Here comes Jennie now," Bill Lakeman said. 
 "Watch her ride; she seems to have grown up on that 
 horse. Did you ever see a more graceful rider? ' ' 
 
 "She rides beautifully," Alfred answered. 
 
 Jennie galloped to the gate and slipped from the sad- 
 dle almost before the pony had stopped. She lifted her 
 hand in playful greeting to the pair by the honeysuckle. 
 
 "Evening again," she said, as she came up, "a per- 
 fectly delightful study evening. Don't you think so, 
 Mr. Lakeman?" 
 
 "Mighty fine," the old man agreed. "If this breeze 
 keeps up we'll study indoors to-morrow night." 
 
 "Oh, don't predict such a thing," Jennie begged. 
 
306 THE CALL AT EVENING. 
 
 ''We don't want rain while these study evening last." 
 
 "It isn't always what we want," Bill Lakeman ven- 
 tured laughing; ''it's what we get." 
 
 ''Who is that coming with Mr. Bennett?" Jennie 
 asked. ' ' Isn 't she charming ? ' ' 
 
 "Mrs. Bennett!" Alfred said, in a tone of surprise. 
 "How is it possible?" 
 
 A look of comprehension illumined Bill Lakeman 's 
 face. 
 
 "Now we know," he said, "where Sophronia has 
 gone. Well, I'm glad she did it," he added to himself. 
 "I'm glad she did it." 
 
 When Mary Bennett was introduced to Bill Lakeman 
 and Jennie, she met them with a quiet grace and gentle 
 self-possession which sat becomingly on her. Yet, truth 
 to tell, it was with a sinking heart that she took the 
 chair beside Jennie Burnside, for Jennie was to-night 
 arrayed in an elaborately beautiful riding habit, while 
 Mary Bennett wore the simple cotton frock, mended 
 and remended, which represented the best of her collec- 
 tion. Jennie Burnside felt this, and her own face 
 burned with self-reproach. She wished heartily that 
 pride had not so overcome her better judgment. 
 
 When the prayer was over, Jennie unfastened the 
 rose which adorned her bodice and gave it to Mary 
 Bennett. It was a trivial thing, yet to the starved 
 heart of the woman it meant much. Her eyes lighted 
 with thankfulness. Impulsively Jennie reached for the 
 hand lying idly beneath the table and pressed it warmly. 
 The matter of dress was forgotten, swallowed up in a 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 307 
 
 flood which warmed their hearts with a deep, new 
 friendship. 
 
 ''We were studying last night," Alfred was saying, 
 ''the apostasy of the church. We read the description 
 of the church as seen in a vision by John the Revelator : 
 crowned with twelve stars and clothed with the sun. 
 We followed the vision until her child was taken from 
 her, back to God, and the church passed into the wil- 
 derness. 
 
 "In its place there was established in Rome, on the 
 back of the dragon, a church that the world has con- 
 sidered the church of Christ. However, John the Reve- 
 lator spoke of her as 'a woman' not 'the woman' of 
 whom he had just been talking. That was " 
 
 "Well, I guess you don't study without me," a cheer- 
 ful voice interrupted as Stanley Lakeman slipped into 
 his chair. "I'm not going to the foot of the class by an 
 absent mark. Not I ! You may continue your sermon 
 now, Mr. Preacher. I'm here to see that you don't 
 teach this people anything but the truth." 
 
 "And glad we are of it," Alfred responded warmly. 
 "We feared it would be necessary to study without 
 you." 
 
 Stanley 's face was suddenly serious. 
 
 "I feared so myself," he said. Then aside in answer 
 to the question in his father's eyes: "Bad," he said. 
 ' ' I can 't stay away long. ' ' 
 
 "The midnight of darkness, " Alfred resumed, "which 
 followed the departure of the church, enveloped the 
 world and hid from the view of men, for a time, the 
 simple truth of the gospel, had not come unannounced. 
 
308 THE CALL AT EVENING. 
 
 The Lord of the earth, the Master of the vineyard, was 
 not unprepared for it. In our study to-night we wish to 
 take up that phase of the situation — the preparation of 
 the Lord for the preservation of his truth. 
 
 ''Our foundation is a sentence found in the twenty- 
 first chapter of Matthew and the forty-third verse. 
 
 " 'This is the Lord's doings and it is marvelous in 
 our eyes. ' 
 
 "In this connection we will ask Mr. Lakeman to read 
 Matthew 21: 41." 
 
 ' ' ' They say unto him, He will miserably destroy these 
 wicked men, and will let out his vineyard unto other 
 husbandmen, which shall render him the fruits in their 
 seasons.' " 
 
 "The verses preceding," Alfred said, "show us this: 
 The Lord, sincerely desiring the good of the vineyard, 
 had placed it in charge of laborers or husbandmen. 
 Prom time to time he sent messengers to these husband- 
 men to assist and instruct them. Each time the mes- 
 senger was stoned and killed, until at last in one great 
 effort the master of his vineyard sent his son. When 
 the son was killed also he swore in his wrath that he 
 would destroy those husbandmen and let out his vine- 
 yard to others." 
 
 "Do you not think," Jennie asked, "that refers to 
 the rejection of the Jews as a nation and the gospel 
 being given to the Gentiles?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred returned, "I think it does. Yet it is 
 
 quite evident that the rejection of the Jews was not a 
 
 • permanent rejection. They were rejected for a time, 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 309 
 
 We learn this from Luke 21 : 24. You may read it, 
 Miss Burnside/' 
 
 " 'And they shall fall by the edge of the sword, and 
 shall be led away captive into all nations : and Jerusa- 
 lem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles, until the 
 times of the Gentiles be fulfilled.' " 
 
 ''Later we will go farther into this phase of the 
 question. At present it is enough for us to know that 
 the position of laborers or husbandmen for the vineyard 
 was taken from the Jews and given to the Gentiles." 
 
 "I don't know whether I just get all of that or not," 
 Stanley observed. 
 
 "It is like this," Alfred explained: "The gospel of 
 the Lord was given into the hands of the Israelites, 
 not for their good alone, but that they might be hus- 
 bandmen to the entire vineyard, the world. It was not 
 the plan of God that only those known as the 'chosen 
 people' should be saved, but rather, that they might 
 be instruments in his hands in bringing salvation to 
 the entire world. This they failed to do, although the 
 Lord labored with them long and faithfully. At last 
 he declared in desperation, 'I will let the vineyard out 
 to other husbandmen.' He tells us this in different 
 language in Jeremiah 11 : 16, 17, where speak'ng of the 
 Israelites, the nations of Judah and Israel, he says : 
 
 ' ' ' The Lord called thy name, a green olive tree, fair, 
 and of goodly fruit: with the noise of a great tumult 
 he hath kindled fire upon it, and the branches of it are 
 broken. ' 
 
 "Now let us turn to Romans 11: 17. We will notice 
 that the apostle is speaking to those other husbandmen, 
 
310 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 the Gentiles, to whom the vineyard was given. We 
 have just read of the breaking off of some of the 
 branches of the olive tree. We learn in the verses we 
 are about to read, what takes their place. Perhaps you 
 will read, Mrs. Bennett ? ' ' 
 
 *' 'And if some of the branches be broken off, and 
 thou, being a wild olive tree, wert grafted in among 
 them, and with them partakest of the root and fatness 
 of the olive tree.' " 
 
 **So the gospel was to the Gentiles " 
 
 "Well, boy," Bill Lakeman spoke up, ''you may not 
 know it, but you are getting the Lord into an awful 
 fix. What you say is true enough but it looks like this 
 to me : The Lord chose a people, the Jews, to do his 
 work, but they failed right along. Didn't they fail?" 
 
 Alfred nodded. 
 
 "Yes, sir, they failed," the old man reaffirmed, "and 
 he took the gospel from them, scattered what he didn't 
 kill, and gave the gospel to the Gentiles. Now, how 
 much better off was he? How long did the Gen- 
 tiles have it till they did just as bad? Our study 
 last night showed that they had turned his church in- 
 side out in less than five centuries. We left the church 
 last night in the hands of the Gentiles, rejected of the 
 Lord, and lost in tha wilderness. Yes, sir, it looks to 
 me like everything had gone bad on the hands of the 
 Lord. His chosen people rejected and scattered, the 
 church among the Gentiles in the same fix. It couldn't 
 be much worse, boy; it couldn't be much worse." 
 
 "You are right, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred answered. 
 "Affairs had come to that point where the Devil seems 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 311 
 
 to have won all around. That is why I made the state- 
 ment in the beginning of this study, 'It had not come 
 unannounced.' The Lord had secretly been making 
 preparation for the time when his truth must pass 
 through this period of darkness, which to this day we 
 speak of as the 'Dark Ages.' He had been preparing 
 to bring his truth through this period of darkness 
 triumphant, that, when it had passed through the dark- 
 ness, it might shine with greater brilliance because of 
 the very darkness. During the remainder of this study 
 I want you to follow very closely. 
 
 ' ' This preparation began long before the day of dark- 
 ness. We get our first glimpse of it from the seven- 
 teenth chapter of Ezekiel. 
 
 "Before we read I want to call to your mind cer- 
 tain points of history which will help us in our con- 
 sideration. 
 
 "The Lord had brought the hosts of Israel out of 
 Egypt with a mighty hand. He had settled them in the 
 land of Canaan and there undertook to educate them 
 into usefulness for his work. When we read the history 
 we are appalled at their failure to absorb his teachings. 
 As time went on they rebelled against his form of 
 government and demanded a king. Three kings ruled 
 over the twelve tribes, Saul, David, and Solomon. After 
 Solomon's death, civil war broke out and the kingdom 
 was divided. Approximately ten tribes formed into the 
 northern kingdom, the kingdom of Israel, while the 
 others became the kingdom of Judah, or the Jewish 
 people. As time went on and the people forgot God, 
 the Assyrians took the kingdom of Israel, and carried 
 
312 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 them captive into Assyria. Thus was brought about 
 the loss of the ten tribes, for from that time on their 
 whereabouts were unknown to the world. 
 
 ''Later when the people of Judah became so wicked 
 that the Lord no longer protected them, the king of 
 Babylon took Jerusalem, and the Jews entered into 
 their famous seventy years of captivity. 
 
 "Now the Lord pictured all this through his prophet. 
 It is this picture we will study. Ezekiel 17 : 3 ; Stanley, 
 read, please.'* 
 
 * ' ' And say. Thus saith the Lord Grod : A great eagle 
 with great wings, long winged, full of feathers, which 
 had divers colors, came unto Lebanon, and took the 
 highest branch of the cedar.' " 
 
 ''That is the Lord's way of telling us of the carry- 
 ing away captive, the nation of Israel into Assyria. 
 Now for the other part of the picture. Miss Burnside, 
 please read the first part of the seventh verse." 
 
 " 'There was also another great eagle with great 
 wings and many feathers.' " ' 
 
 "Now, Mr. Bennett, the explanation is found in 
 verse twelve. Read it, please." 
 
 " 'Say now to the rebellious house, Know ye not 
 what these things mean? Tell them, Behold, the king 
 of Babylon is come to Jerusalem, and hath taken the 
 king thereof, and the princes thereof, and led them 
 with him to Babylon.' " 
 
 "We learn from this verse in connection with verse 
 sixteen, where the Lord tells the king that he shall die 
 in the land of Babylon, that the topmost branches, the 
 kings, princes, and nobles, shall there in captivity con- 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 313 
 
 sider the trespasses which they have trespassed against 
 him. 
 
 ''Thus the Lord faced once more the evidence of 
 man's unwillingness to serve him. Had it been man's 
 doings they would have given up in despair and said, 
 'It is of no use.' Not so with God; he grieved for his 
 people (Psalm 95 : 10) and did what he could to save 
 the truth resident with them. For although first 
 Israel, the ten tribes of the chosen people, and later 
 Judah, the other two tribes, were broken down because 
 of transgression, and carried by the two great kings 
 captive into heathen lands, yet the Lord did that which 
 thwarted the designs of the eagle. I shall read from 
 Ezekiel 17 : 22 ; listen : 
 
 " 'Thus saith the Lord, I will also take of tl;e high- 
 est branch of the high cedar, and will set it ; I will crop 
 off from the top of his young twigs a tender one, and 
 will plant it upon a high mountain and eminent.' 
 
 "You will see by the preceding verse that the king, 
 Zedekiah, is the one referred to there in the phrase, 
 'I will crop off from the top of his young twigs a ten- 
 der one.' While the kings and the princes who had 
 reached maturity were carried into Babylon, there to 
 die or to spend their days in captivity, yet the Lord 
 declares here that he will save one of the king's house- 
 hold — ^his young twigs — from such a fate. Young 
 and tender, perhaps too young to serve in the armies, 
 and of little consequence in the sight of men, yet the 
 hand of the Lord was over this tender one, and the 
 Lord would not permit that he should fall into the 
 clutches of the eagle. He tells us rather that he will 
 
314 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 remove him and establisli him upon a high mountain 
 and eminent." 
 
 '*Do you think," Stanley asked, ''that in the con- 
 fusion of the conflict one of the king's sons was missed 
 and not carried into Babylon? Is that your thought?" 
 
 ''Something like that," Alfred answered. "For his 
 own purpose the Lord will lead these away. ' ' 
 
 "Do you regard that mountain as a literal mountain, 
 Mr. Stewart?" Jennie asked. 
 
 "No more," he said, "than I would regard the 
 eagle as a literal eagle. The term 'mountain,' or 'moun- 
 tains,' in the Bible is used in three ways other than 
 literal, that is, to designate special lands (Ezekiel 
 36:1), or nations (Amos 6:1), or peoples forming a 
 nation (Ezekiel 6 : 2), so this mountain high and eminent 
 is a wonderful land, a strong nation, or a mighty people. 
 Verse twenty-three tells us more of this mountain on 
 which the Lord purposes to plant this twig. Mr. Lake- 
 man, will you read it?" 
 
 " 'In a mountain of the height of Israel will I plant 
 it : and it shall bring forth boughs, and bear fruit, and 
 be a goodly cedar.' " 
 
 "This verse teaches us two things," Alfred com- 
 mented: "First, that this twig of the Lord's planting 
 should grow into a goodly nation, and second that the 
 land, or mountain, in which they should thus grow, is 
 of the height of Israel.' This statement is very sig- 
 nificant. From Psalm 68 : 16, we learn that the reason 
 for the height of the mountain of Israel is because 
 'this is the hill which God desireth to dwell in.' Now 
 if the eminence of Israel is because it is a choice land 
 
''THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 315 
 
 and a choice people unto the Lord, then the eminence 
 of this other land or mountain would be for the same 
 reason, for we are told they are equal in 'height.' 
 
 **Now let us look for the Lord's reason for clipping 
 off this twig and planting it. Mrs. Bennett, that reason 
 is given in Isaiah 65 : 8, 9. He is discussing the same 
 subject." 
 
 " 'Thus saith the Lord, as the new wine is found 
 in the cluster, and one saith, destroy it not ; for a bless- 
 ing is in it: so will I do for my servant's sake, that 1 
 may not destroy them all. And I will bring forth a 
 seed out of Jacob, and out of Judah an inheritor of 
 my mountains.' " 
 
 ''That will do," Alfred said. "It has taught us 
 that the Lord has indeed more mountains than one, and 
 that the seed of Jacob and of Judah shall inherit 
 them." 
 
 "I'm getting curious," Stanley said, "to know what 
 you are driving at. I always knew that the land of 
 Canaan was supposed to be a choice land, and the 
 Israelites a chosen people, but I never heard of any 
 other land being a choice land. I'd like to know what 
 it is." 
 
 "Well, perphaps we can learn," Alfred said. "You 
 may turn, Stanley, to Zephaniah 3 : 10. A peculiar lo- 
 cation is mentioned there and in connection with it the 
 Lord speaks once more of his holy mountain. You 
 may read." 
 
 " 'From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia my suppliants, 
 even the daughter of my dispersed, shall bring mine 
 offering. * 
 
316 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 " 'From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia/ '' Stanley 
 repeated. ''Well, where is that? I believe I'll bring 
 my map of the world, my globe. Would that help?** 
 
 "Do," Alfred urged. 
 
 Stanley was gone a moment and then returned bear- 
 ing in his arms a miniature world. 
 
 *'This used to help me when I studied geography in 
 school," he said, as he set it on the table before them. 
 
 "Fine," Alfred continued. "Now we have learned 
 that some of Israel and Judah (the Lord speaks of 
 them as his dispersed) dwelt beyond the rivers of 
 Ethiopia. Mr. Lakeman, from Isaiah 18:1, tell us 
 something more about this land that is beyond the 
 rivers of Ethiopia." 
 
 The old man studied the verse carefully, then looked 
 at Alfred with a surprised light in his eyes. 
 
 "It says, 'the land shadowing with wings, which is 
 beyond the rivers of Ethiopia.* ** 
 
 "Very well; now from verse two, tell us how they 
 will travel in order to communicate with the land and 
 people of the prophet. ' ' 
 
 Again Bill Lakeman studied the verse. 
 
 "By vessels on the sea," he answered. 
 
 "Then," Alfred continued, "this land mentioned 
 lies over the sea. Now look." 
 
 He took before him the globe Stanley had brought. 
 
 "The prophet stood here," he said, laying his finger 
 on that part of the globe where the land of Palestine 
 was designated. "By the power of the Spirit of God, 
 he looked out beyond the rivers of Ethiopia, which 
 lay here in northern Africa, across the sea over which 
 
**THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 817 
 
 the vessels would come, and saw in vision the land 
 
 shadowing with wings. Can you also see his vision?" 
 
 He turned the globe slightly toward them, and there, 
 
 "Like the shadows cast 
 by two great wings, lay 
 the lands of America." 
 
 stretched out like the shadows cast by two great wings, 
 lay the lands of America, the great Western Hemi- 
 sphere, 
 
 ''Why," Stanley gasped when he saw it, "it couldn't 
 
318 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 be. It just couldn't be; America was not discovered 
 yet." 
 
 **Not by man/' Alfred agreed. ''But the great God 
 of the universe knew of that land. He could hardly 
 be expected to overlook the richest, finest land in the 
 whole world. It was not undiscovered by him." 
 
 Stanley was silently studying the picture before him. 
 
 **So much is said," Alfred went on, ''about the land 
 of Canaan, which God gave to Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob. Yet he did not neglect to mention also in em- 
 phatic language that other land which was a 'mountain 
 high and eminent' to him. A 'mountain' equal in 
 height to 'Israel.' We will turn now to Deuteronomy 
 33, beginning at the thirteenth verse. Stanley, read, 
 please." 
 
 *' 'And of Joseph he said. Blessed of the Lord be 
 his land, for the precious things of heaven, for the 
 dew, and the deep that coucheth beneath.' " 
 
 "It is significant," Alfred went on, "that in the 
 blessing of all the tribes, for Joseph only is a special 
 land mentioned — Joseph's land. You will also note 
 that his was a very rich land. Now, Mr. Lakeman, we 
 can learn more of the matter from Genesis 49: 26." 
 
 " 'The blessings of thy father have prevailed above 
 the blessings of my progenitors unto the utmost bound 
 of the everlasting hills: they shall be on the head of 
 Joseph, and on the crown of the head of him that was 
 separate from his brethren.' " 
 
 "I would like to ask," Alfred said, "what had been 
 the blessing of Jacob's progenitors, Abraham and 
 Isaac?" 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 319 
 
 ' ' They liad been promised the land of Canaan for an 
 inheritance," Jennie answered. 
 
 ''Mr. Lakeman, from the verse you just read, was 
 Jacob's blessing confined to the limit of his progeni- 
 tors?" 
 
 ''No, it seems not," the old man answered. "He 
 says it prevailed above their blessing." 
 
 "Unto where?" 
 
 "The utmost bound of the everlasting hills," Stan- 
 ley supplied. 
 
 "Jacob's blessing extended far," Alfred commented. 
 "He seemed to consider this blessing which would reach 
 even unto the utmost bound of the everlasting hills, 
 a special blessing. That blessing he placed upon the 
 head of one of his sons. Which one?" 
 
 "He placed it upon the head of Joseph." It was 
 Mary Bennett who answered timidly. 
 
 "Deuteronomy 33: 17 tells us something more about 
 Joseph. Will you read it, Miss Burnside?" 
 
 " 'His glory is like the firstling of his bullock, and 
 his horns are like the horns of the unicorns : with them 
 he shall push the people together to the ends of the 
 earth.'" 
 
 "Every figure of speech used," Alfred said, "sug- 
 gests distance. Now one more, Mr. Bennett; Genesis 
 49:22." 
 
 " 'Joseph is a fruitful bough, even a fruitful bough 
 by a well; whose branches run over the wall.' " 
 
 "Stanley, what does the term 'wall' suggest to you?" 
 
 Stanley considered the question seriously. 
 
820 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''A wall," he said, "is that which surrounds an in- 
 closure. ' ' 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said. *'Now let us think of this in- 
 stance a moment. Joseph was the head of two tribes. 
 We are told in the Scriptures that they became a mighty- 
 people. Now considering it in the light of a people, 
 what do you think the term 'wall' might represent?" 
 
 ''It seems to me," Bill Lakeman spoke up, "that it 
 must represent their boundary line." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said, "that which prevented a people 
 from further spreading out. In the case of Joseph, how- 
 ever, the wall did not confine him. His branches 'run 
 over' the wall. 
 
 ' ' Now, Mrs. Bennett, turn to Joshua 17 : 10 and tell 
 us there what the border of Joseph's seed, Ephraim 
 and Manasseh, is said to be." 
 
 "It says the sea is his border," she answered. 
 
 "Very well, then, some of the branches were to go 
 over the sea. Now, Stanley, Isaiah 16: 8." 
 
 "For the fields of Heshbon languish, and the vine 
 of Sibmah, the lords of the heathen have broken down 
 the principal plants thereof, they are come even unto 
 Jazer, they wandered through the ' wilderness : her 
 branches are stretched out, they are gone over the sea.' 
 
 "I would like to know what that all means," Stanley 
 said. "What are the fields of Heshbon, and what is the 
 vine of Sibmah?" 
 
 "We'll investigate that," Alfred answered, "but 
 first we will ask Mr. Lakeman to read a like state- 
 ment in Jeremiah 48 : 32. " 
 
 " '0 vine of Sibmah, I will weep for thee with the 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 821 
 
 weeping of Jazer : thy plants are gone over the sea. ' ' ' 
 
 ''Well, it looks like some one was going over the 
 sea, all right," Stanley commented. 
 
 ' ' Now we will try to answer your question, Stanley, ^ ' 
 Alfred went on. ' * Psalm 88 : 8 tells us that the Lord 
 brought a vine out of Egypt and cast out the heathen 
 and planted it. So Israel is the vine referred to, the 
 people of God." 
 
 ''Why should he weep for it?" Jennie asked. 
 
 "The great eagle of which we read in the earlier 
 part of our study came against it. The lords of the 
 heathen broke down the principal plants. Because 
 they would not hearken unto his word that he might 
 protect them, the Lord wept. Do you remember what 
 the Lord said he would do with the tender twig?" 
 
 "He was going to clip it off," answered Jennie, 
 "and plant it." 
 
 " He is telling us the same thing in another way. This 
 time he is telling us they are going over the sea. Now, 
 Stanley, we will look up Heshbon. Tell us what you 
 find in Numbers 21:26." 
 
 "It says Heshbon was the city of Sihon, king of the 
 Amorites. 
 
 "I don't know any more now than I did before," 
 Stanley complained. "I don't see how a city could go 
 over the sea." 
 
 "I don't understand that Heshbon necessarily refers 
 to the city Heshbon alone. Heshbon, under king Sihon, 
 was a strong nation, including provinces ruled over by 
 five other kings. All these constituted Heshbon proper. 
 
322 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Now, Mr. Bennett, there is a statement in Jeremiah 48 : 
 45 which may help us. Will you look it up ? " 
 
 '' 'They that fled stood under the shadow of Hesh- 
 bon.^ '^ 
 
 *'Now we have had two lines of thought under con- 
 sideration," Alfred said. ''First, the Lord took from 
 the land of Jerusalem a people, designated as a 'tender 
 twig,' including some of the seed of the king. 
 
 "We found that the Lord scattered his people to a 
 land beyond the rivers of Ethiopia, across the sea, a 
 land shadowing with wings. Secondly, we learned that 
 the Lord gave unto Joseph a very rich land and that 
 his branches (posterity) should run over the wall. 
 We found that his boundary (wall) was the sea. We 
 also learned that some did go over the sea. ' ' 
 
 "That doesn't necessarily prove," Bill Lakeman 
 said, "that it was Joseph's seed that went over the 
 sea. Have you any reason for connecting Heshbon 
 with Joseph's seed?" 
 
 "Let us see," Alfred answered. "From Numbers 
 32 and 33 we learn of the dividing of Heshbon and its 
 provinces among the tribes of Gad, Reuben, and half 
 the tribe of Manasseh. Can you discover Joseph's seed 
 among any of these?" 
 
 "Manasseh was Joseph's son," Jennie said. 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said, "Manasseh was Joseph's son, 
 his first born. So you see we can show what the Lord 
 referred to when he speaks of Joseph's branches 
 running over the wall — some of the descendants, evi- 
 dently of the tribe of Manasseh, led away to occupy 
 in Joseph's land, the land shadowing with wings." 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 323 
 
 *'I want to know something else," Stanley said. ''It 
 says back here in Isaiah 16:8, 'they are come even 
 unto Jazer, they wandered through the wilderness: 
 her branches are stretched out, they are gone over the 
 sea. ' Now what does this mean, ' they are come unto 
 Jazer'?" 
 
 "Turn to Joshua 13:25, Stanley, and you can an- 
 swer your own question." 
 
 "It says, 'their coast was Jazer.' " 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said, "to say, 'they are come unto 
 Jazer,' is equivalent to saying they came to the coast; 
 they went over the sea. Jeremiah goes further and 
 speaks of Jazer as the sea." 
 
 "Well, I'll declare," Stanley said as he held his 
 Bible up and inspected it critically, "there's more in 
 you than I ever dreamed there was." 
 
 "Now listen here," Bill Lakeman said; "it looks 
 to me like things are in a muddle. It does look like all 
 this refers to Joseph or his posterity, but where does 
 Zedekiah's branch come in? Zedekiah was not a de- 
 scendant of the tribe of Joseph. He was the king of 
 Judah, a descendant of David. That would make him 
 of the tribe of Judah." 
 
 "I'm glad you asked that question, Mr. Lakeman; 
 it is one of the points which needs clearing up. Turn 
 to Jeremiah 49 : 30, 31, and read, please. We will 
 notice while Mr. Lakeman reads that he is discussing 
 the same thing, yet a new element enters into the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 " 'Flee, get you far off, dwell deep, ye inhabitants 
 
324 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 of Hazor, saith the Lord; for Nebuchadnezzar king ot 
 Babylon hath taken counsel against you, and hath con- 
 ceived a purpose against you. Arise, get you up unto 
 the wealthy nation, that dwelleth without care, saith 
 the Lord, which have neither gates nor bars, which 
 dwell alone.' " 
 
 "More mystery, *' Stanley said. 
 
 ''Not so much mystery," Alfred mused. ''It is easy 
 to unravel. Hazor was the head of many kingdoms. 
 King Jabin of Hazor ruled over Madon, Shimron, and 
 Achshaph, but more important, he ruled over the 
 Oanaanites, the Amorites, the Hittites, the Perizzites, 
 the Jebusites, and the Hivites under Herman in the 
 land of Mizpah. 
 
 "When these people were conquered and driven 
 out by the children of Israel, southern Hazor was 
 given to the tribe of Judah, and Hazor of the south 
 became a city of Judah.'* 
 
 "What's bothering me is this," Bill Lakeman took 
 up the point once more: "You've shown us from the 
 Bible when the Lord was going to give a land to Joseph, 
 but now Judah is getting mixed into it, too. I don't 
 understand that." 
 
 "Turn, Mr. Lakeman, to Isaiah 65 : 8 and 9 and read." 
 
 "Thus saith the Lord, As the new vine is found 
 in the cluster, and one saith. Destroy it not; for 
 a blessing is in it : so will I do for my servants' sakes, 
 that I may not destroy them all. And I will bring 
 forth a seed out of Jacob, and out of Judah an inheri- 
 tor of my mountains: and mine elect shall inherit it, 
 and my servants shall dwell there.' " 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 826 
 
 '*He says he will bring them forth out of Jacob 
 and Judah. Now do you remember upon whose head, 
 or to whom, Jacob's special blessing was transferred?" 
 
 ** Joseph, '* the old man answered. 
 
 ''Also a study of the Bible will show that Joseph 
 was given Reuben's birthright and that thus Joseph 
 became Jacob's first bom, his successor. In this light 
 the passage suggests that out of Joseph and out of 
 Judah will the inheritor be brought forth." 
 
 ''Then you think that descendants of both came 
 over here?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "it seems evident to me 
 that the Lord was leading two peoples to this land. 
 Or it may have been a mixture of these tribes. But 
 as they occupied in the land of Joseph, their tribal 
 identity was lost in Joseph, just as certain other tribes 
 dwelling in Jerusalem lost their tribal identity 
 in Judah. 1 Chronicles 9 : 3 tells us that the 
 children of Benjamin, Judah, Ephraim, and Manasseh 
 dwelt in Jerusalem. So it may have been any of this 
 mixture which the Lord led out. But we can trace 
 Manasseh through the prophecies regarding Heshbon 
 and Judah through the seed of the king and by Hazor." 
 
 "That seems remarkable to me," Stanley said. 
 
 "Do you remember our foundation verse, Stanley?" 
 Alfred questioned: " 'This is the Lord's doings and it 
 is marvelous in our eyes.' 
 
 "We have overlooked one consideration," Alfred 
 went on. "That is our reason for thinking that these 
 people, termed Hazor (Jeremiah 49:30), were to flee 
 also to Joseph's land. Notice the wording, 'Arise, get 
 
326 THE CALL AT' EVENING 
 
 you up into the wealthy nation, that dwelleth without 
 care, saith the Lord, which have neither gates nor bars, 
 which dwell alone.' " 
 
 ''What I can't see," Bill Lakeman said, *'is what 
 the Lord expects to accomplish by all this. I can see 
 that it would be a nice thing for these people to be led 
 to safety, but when you started out you were going to 
 show how the Lord intended to preserve his truth 
 through the apostasy of the church and the rejection 
 of the Jews. It seems to me we have drifted from 
 that." 
 
 ''Yes," Alfred said, "we have, but we are ready to 
 come back to it very soon. The Lord knew that after the 
 world had passed through its period of darkness, that 
 he would need very strong evidence to restore faith, 
 or perhaps I should say 'the faith' to the earth. Now 
 he had placed his truth with Israel, his chosen people, 
 and desired that they should cultivate his vineyard* 
 As we said before, they failed, and because they failed 
 were scattered and rejected. Yet the .knowledge of 
 God and the inspiration of God were with these people. 
 The Lord led away these branches in the day of the 
 work of the greatest prophets the world has ever 
 known. Jeremiah, Isaiah, and Ezekiel were three of 
 the many prophets of that day. So the inspiration of 
 God was with them. Do you remember what the Lord 
 said about it? 
 
 " 'As new wine is found in the cluster and one saith. 
 Destroy it not ; for a blessing is in it : so will I do . . . 
 that I may not destroy them all.' 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" ;327 
 
 ''They had the blessing of truth and inspiration, but 
 in order to preserve that, it was necessary that they 
 be removed from the contaminating influence of the 
 heathen. So the Lord said, 'Flee, get thee far off, 
 dwell deep' (secretly). He wanted them to get 'far 
 off' to" the rich land, where they could dwell safely, 
 where there were no surrounding warlike kings to 
 harass them, where they would need no walls around 
 their cities (neither gates nor bars), where they would 
 be isolated from the rest of the world (dwell alone)." 
 
 Stanley picked up the globe and studied the lands 
 of the world carefully. 
 
 "There's only one place that will answer that de- 
 scription," he said. 
 
 Alfred came and looked over his shoulder. 
 
 "And that is," he affirmed, " 'the land shadowing 
 with wings. ' The Lord led them here, that, shut away 
 from the knowledge of the rest of the world, he might 
 preserve his truth and bring it triumphant through 
 the period of darkness." 
 
 "It's a beautiful study, boy," Bill Lakeman said, 
 "a beautiful study. But did it, or can it, accomplish 
 that? It is no new thought that the aborigines of Amer- 
 ica are of Jewish descent. I have studied archaeology 
 enough to know that strong evidence points that way. 
 But did it accomplish its work? America has been 
 discovered many years. Is the world any nearer a 
 knowledge of God to-day because the Lord led them 
 here? Did they preserve his truth? It seems to me 
 those people were as far from a knowledge of the 
 
328 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 truth when they were discovered as the people on the 
 other continent. How do you figure it out ? ' ' 
 
 ''You said a moment ago, Mr. Lakeman, that you 
 had studied American archaeology somewhat. Tell 
 me this: did the highest civilization of these people 
 exist when America was discovered?" 
 
 ''No," the old man answered, "the highest civiliza- 
 tion was dead hundreds of years before. The highest 
 civilization at that time, the Aztecs, was only a re- 
 flected civilization." 
 
 "It is not the living testimony of the Jews to-day," 
 Alfred went on, "that is enlightening the world. It 
 is their written testimony found here in the Bible 
 which God by his power has preserved. 
 
 "That old civilization of this continent was gone, 
 Mr. Lakeman ; yet as God had preserved the testimony 
 of Judah by his power, so he preserved their testimony. 
 
 "Christ said, 'In the mouth of two or three witnesses 
 shall every word be established.'. 
 
 "The men of God in times of old left their testi- 
 mony to us here in the Bible. By it we are told that 
 Jesus is the Christ and through him comes salvation 
 into the world. While here," Alfred held up another 
 book, "is the record or history of that old civilization, 
 telling us that Jesus is indeed the Christ, the Savior 
 of all men. Thus from two separate, isolated sources 
 comes to us the same testimony. 
 
 "Just as Judah here gives us his testimony, so does 
 Joseph here give us his, that they two may speak the 
 truth in such unmistakable terms that the world need 
 not doubt." 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 329 
 
 ''Is that what the Book of Mormon is?" Bill Lake- 
 man asked. ''I always thought it was some kind of 
 a Bible which took the place of this in the minds of 
 those who accepted it.'' 
 
 ''There is nothing in the world, Mr. Lakeman, nor 
 ever shall be, which will take the place of the Bible. 
 God has preserved it miraculously that through its 
 teachings the world might learn of him and be saved. 
 
 "Yet why should it be counted strange/' he went 
 on when the other did not speak, "that as the Lord 
 led them out from the danger of the old world, these 
 bi»anches of Joseph and Judah, that he should continue 
 to reveal his will unto them, even as he did to their 
 brethren across the waters, or that they, like Judah, 
 should keep a record of those things, that in the time 
 of the world's doubt, the Lord might bring forth that 
 record? And their testimony with the testimony of 
 Judah should show beyond a doubt that Jesus is the 
 Christ." 
 
 "Well, it always did seem funny to me," Bill Lake- 
 man said, "that Grod never spoke to anybody but the 
 Jews. That was one reason I always thought he never 
 really did speak to them. Now if he led those people 
 over here as we have been studying, it would be the 
 most natural thing in the world that he should continue 
 to speak to them as he had done before." 
 
 "So it seems to me," Alfred agreed. 
 
 "Now, once more let us summarize," he went on. 
 "We studied from the Bible first where God said he 
 would scatter some of his people to the land shadowing 
 with wings, which is beyond the rivers of Ethiopia. 
 
330^ THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 *" Second, that he had given to Joseph a very rich 
 land. 
 
 ' ' Third, that Heshbon, where dwelt many of the 
 children of Manasseh, Joseph's first born, should wan- 
 der through the wilderness and across the sea. 
 
 *' Fourth, that God would remove, or clip from 
 King Zedekiah's household some who would not fall 
 into the clutches of the eagle, the king of Babylon, and 
 that these should be established on a choice mountain 
 or land. 
 
 *' Fifth, from Hazor should also come a people to a 
 mighty, isolated, rich land. 
 
 ''Sixth, out of Jacob and Judah should come an in- 
 heritor for the mountains. 
 
 ''Now this book," Alfred continued, "tells us that 
 a company of the tribe of Manasseh,, descendants of 
 Joseph, were led from Jerusalem, having been told of 
 the coming destruction of that city and the captivity 
 of the people, and warned of the Lord to flee into the 
 wilderness. We are told how they wandered in the 
 Wilderness as the Bible said they would, and at last 
 crossed the sea to the lands now known as America, 
 known to them as 'the choice land.' 
 
 "It also tell us of another company, including one 
 of the sons of Zedekiah, which was led by the Lord out 
 of Jerusalem at the time of its overthrow. " 
 . Alfred pulled the globe of the world to him once 
 more and turned it so all could see. 
 
 J'The first colony I mentioned, the descendants of 
 Joseph," he went on, "landed here in South America 
 
"THE LAND SHADOWING WITH WINGS" 381 
 
 on the west coast of Chile, and gradually worked their 
 way north. 
 
 ''The second colony landed up here on the Isthmus 
 of Panama and drifted south. They finally met and 
 amalgamated, growing into the old civilization Mr. 
 Lakeman mentioned, or the 'goodly tree' which the 
 Lord promised they should grow into on the moun- 
 tain, 'high and eminent.' It is a remarkable evidence 
 of the fulfillment of prophecy, another demonstration 
 of the wonderful harmony of truth. 
 
 "The Lord continued to reveal to them his will and 
 they, like Judah, made the record which gives additional 
 testimony to the truthfulness of the gospel and the 
 comforting assurance that the God of the past still 
 lives.'' 
 
 ''Will you let me read that book?" Bill Lakeman 
 asked. 
 
 "Gladly," Alfred answered. 
 
 "To-morrow night we will study the coming forth 
 of the church out of the wilderness, and also other 
 prophecies in the Bible regarding the coming forth 
 of this record of Joseph, for the Lord has not left him- 
 self without a witness." 
 
 Once again they parted. Stanley rode as far as the 
 highway with Jennie on his return to the hospital. 
 About an hour later Alfred heard the crunching of 
 buggy wheels in the barnyard and the quiet shutting 
 of a door and knew that Aunt Sophronia had accom- 
 plished her mission. Then the scene changed and he 
 wandered once more through the fields and meadows 
 
332 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 of his boyhood and basked in the confusion of forgotten 
 memories, while over all the darkness deepened as it 
 settled with a gentle relaxation, and the world slept. 
 
CHAPTER 29 
 WHEN CONDITIONS CHANGE 
 
 Twilight is stealing 
 
 Over the sea; 
 Shadows are falling 
 
 Dark on the lea; 
 Borne on the night winds 
 
 Voices of yore 
 Come from that far-oflP shore. 
 
 CYNTHIA sat at her machine where great stacks 
 of half -finished trousers were piled high on each 
 side. Her face was bright and she sang in har- 
 mony with the steady hum of her machine, a certain 
 glad quality adding to the usual melody of her tone. 
 
 She could not have told why her heart was glad, 
 but for some reason the world seemed very friendly 
 and she felt that she had no quarrel with fate. She 
 did not see that three times during the morning the 
 foreman had walked in her direction with the evident 
 intention of speaking to her, but that each time as he 
 neared her chair, the frown suddenly deepened on his 
 face and he turned away muttering darkly. Just at 
 that moment he walked toward her again with the air 
 of a man who would perform an errand quickly ere 
 his courage failed. As he drew near, Cynthia's voice 
 rose above the din of the machine clear and full: 
 
334 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Far away, beyond the starlit skies, 
 Where the love-light never, never dies, 
 
 Gleameth a mansion 
 Filled with delight, 
 Sweet, happy home so bright. 
 
 The man stopped suddenly and raising his foot ex- 
 pressed his feelings by a resounding kick against the 
 side of an unoffending box near him. The box in mute 
 astonishment at the unprovoked assault overturned, 
 littering the floor with the pieces which filled it. Not 
 satisfied, the man kicked again vehemently into the 
 pile of scraps, sending them flying in relays to the 
 opposite side of the room. 
 
 ''What's the matter with the boss?" one girl in- 
 quired of her companion. 
 
 ''Got an awful grouch on," the other returned 
 cautiously; "better watch your work. There's the 
 whistle." 
 
 Instantly all was confusion, needles stopped, poised 
 in the air, stitches untaken. Chairs were overturned 
 in the hurry to leave the machines. Trouser legs, 
 half pressed, still steamed and the cutters' knives 
 stuck in the cloth. The last blast of the whistle had 
 scarcely died away ere the room was deserted. Cynthia 
 Brown was among the last to approach the stairway. 
 The knob of the door was in her hand when the fore- 
 man spoke. 
 
 "I want to see you a moment, Cynthia," he said. 
 
 The girl looked up in surprise, a vague fear clutching 
 at her heart. When he hesitated she voiced her dread. 
 
WHEN CONDITIONS CHANGE 335 
 
 ''What's the matter, Mr. Grey — is — ^has any of my 
 work come back?" 
 
 ' ' No, Cynthia, it hasn 't. It never does, ' ' he returned, 
 his voice deep in his throat, his face white with in- 
 dignation. ''If it ever did I could understand things 
 better. I've told you before, you've got all the girls 
 beat as far as work is concerned, but regardless of all 
 that, I've got to fire you." 
 
 "Fire me!" The girl staggered back against the 
 great rolls of cloth behind her. The color faded from 
 her cheeks and she caught at the table for support. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Grey, surely not! Why?" 
 
 "Why? I'd like to know that myself. I don't know 
 why ! I only know I've got orders to fire the best hand 
 I've got, for no reason that I can see. 
 
 "Don't look like that, Cynthia," he begged. "I'd 
 rather lose my own job than tell you this." 
 
 "Mr. Grey, do you — do you know what that means 
 to me?" 
 
 "Do I?" he echoed. "I haven't thought of any- 
 thing else all morning. 
 
 "It isn't much of a job," he went on, "but I don't 
 know where you'll get another one. Not in this town." 
 
 "Oh," she faltered, "I don't know what I'll do! I 
 I don't know what I'll do! I wouldn't care for my- 
 self but " 
 
 "I know," he said in crude sympathy; "it's your 
 mother. I can't help it, girl; I would if I could." 
 
 "Oh, I know, Mr. Grey," she said, "I know it isn't 
 your fault." 
 
336 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 *'I can't understand it," he said again. ''I thought 
 you were on good terms with the old man's family." 
 
 ''Did Mr. Burnside order me fired?" she asked. 
 
 **Yes," he replied; "called me down as soon as he 
 came this morning. Do you know why?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered, "I expect I do know why." 
 
 "Crooked old snake. I'd like to be able to quit 
 him myself. If it wasn't for my family I would." 
 
 "That would do no good, Mr. Grey," Cynthia said. 
 "I don't know what the girls would do if you'd leave 
 here. You must not think of such a thing. When does 
 this take effect? When am I to go?" 
 
 "I'll tell you," he said in a confidential tone; "you 
 finish up all that has your number on them. I'll 
 take time at noon to number some for you. That will 
 help a little. I'll try to keep you until Saturday night. 
 It's the best I can do." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Grey. It will help greatly. I'll 
 have time to think things over before I have to tell 
 mother. ' ' 
 
 Again her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears. 
 The foreman swallowed a lump in his own throat. 
 
 "If the worst comes to the worst, Cynthia, we'll 
 all help you out," he said. 
 
 "Oh, I know," she sobbed, "I know. You've always 
 been good to me, Mr. Grey." She could say no more. 
 He stood at the top and watched her pass down the 
 rickety stairway to the floor below. Passing this she 
 again descended the stairs leading to the lower floor and 
 to the street. Then he faced the direction of the 
 
WHEN CONDITIONS CHANGE 337 
 
 office and shook his fist at an imaginary Marion Burn- 
 side. 
 
 ''If I was half a man/' he muttered, ''I'd wring your 
 neck." 
 
 Cynthia did not go home. She could not at that 
 moment think of facing her mother and explaining 
 the cause of her tears. She wanted most to be alone 
 that she might consider the problem before her and 
 form some plan of action. She was also fighting for 
 control of the tears which flowed in blinding confusion 
 from her eyes, obstructing her vision. She had chosen 
 a narrow walk in the most unfrequented part of town 
 and pulled her white sunshade low over her eyes to 
 hide from a passer-by the fact that she was crying. 
 
 Cynthia knew the seriousness of her position; knew 
 that in the little town which had always been her home 
 there was no other means of earning a livelihood open 
 to her. There seemed to be nothing to which she 
 could turn. 
 
 "What will I do?" she questioned of herself; yet 
 from the resources of her mind no answer came. 
 
 She was unaware that hurrying behind with the 
 evident intention of overtaking her was a young man 
 whose lips were just forming an old-time signal. When 
 she paused at the corner and half turned toward him 
 something in the expression of her face caused the 
 whistle to die on his lips and he followed in silence. 
 
 Cynthia had reached the bisection of the streets and 
 paused a moment in uncertainty. The shimmering 
 waters at the end of the street seemed to call her, and 
 
338 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 leaving the walk she took the pathway leading to the 
 lake. 
 
 The slight pause gave the young man his opportunity 
 and she had not gone far when a friendly hand grasped 
 her arm detainingly. 
 
 "You are some walker," he said laughingly. 
 
 She raised startled eyes to him and the laughter died 
 out of his face. 
 
 ' ' What 's the matter, Cynthia ? " he asked. ' ' Has some 
 one hurt your feelings?" 
 
 ''Worse than that, Henry," she answered. ''I've 
 been fired/' 
 
 "Cynthia Brown!" he exclaimed. 
 
 ' ' Yes, ' ' she said, " it 's true. Marion Burnside ordered 
 Mr. Grey to fire me this morning." 
 
 "Why, Cynthia! Why?" 
 
 "I don't know unless he found out that I know some- 
 thing of his plans. That's the only thing I can think 
 of.*' 
 
 "Well, I think you're wrong," he said. "Marion 
 Burnside is not the one who is at the bottom of that. 
 It's my father. I discovered last night that he has that 
 skunk of a Tom watching me. Maybe he saw us to- 
 gether yesterday. Father may think that you have 
 something to do with my rejection of his kind sugges- 
 tion in regard to my future." 
 
 "Henry," the girl remonstrated, "you're bitter." 
 
 "Maybe," he agreed, "but what do you think of it?" 
 
 "Surely," she said, "he couldn't think that." 
 
 "That's just what he does think," he reasserted. 
 
WHEN CONDITIONS CHANGE 339 
 
 They had reached the beach and stood on the white 
 sand at the water's edge. The heat of the noonday 
 sun gleamed on the surface of the lake and rolled back, 
 cooled by its contact with the water. A ripple on 
 the surface 'neath the shade of a great tree near them 
 told of the frolic of care-free life beneath the surface, 
 and sent out an appeal to the fishermen ; but the young 
 people not so inclined did not see, engrossed as they 
 were with the problems of their own existence. Cyn- 
 thia looked around searchingly. 
 
 "Is Tom still watching you?" she asked. 
 
 ''I don't think so," he returned laughing. '*I sent 
 word to father by him that if he didn't quit spying 
 on me, I'd see that he failed to get the next election." 
 
 ' ' Henry Parsons ! You didn 't do that ! ' ' 
 
 ''I did and I meant it," he said from where he 
 stopped to untie a canoe. *'I could do it and he 
 knows it." 
 
 ''Henry," Cynthia asked, '4f you should ever get 
 into the legislature as your father is, what would 
 you do?" 
 
 He considered the question seriously. 
 
 "I would try first to change some laws I know 
 about," he answered. ''I don't know what else I 
 would do. I might think differently if I were really 
 there." 
 
 A twig snapped suddenly among the willows above 
 them. Young Parsons pushed the canoe he had suc- 
 ceeded in liberating toward her. 
 
 *'Get in there," he directed and started up the bank 
 in the direction of the sound. *'If that " 
 
340 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 He stopped and laughed boyishly. An old brindle 
 cow, quietly chewing her cud, stepped from among the 
 willows. 
 
 ''I'll be a first-class criminal if I keep on," he said, 
 as he took . his place in the boat, ' ' suspicious of 
 every sound. At least we'll feel better when we get 
 out of hearing. ' ' 
 
 With the long, sure strokes of an oarsman he pulled 
 for the center of the lake. As Cynthia let her hand 
 ply idly in the water, the cool, white spray raised by 
 her fingers calmed her and she was able to think 
 quietly. Yet as her mind dwelt on the problems of her 
 life she could find no solution. 
 
 The young man directed the canoe toward a group 
 of islands in the center of the lake. Reaching them he 
 guided the bark skillfully to where the branches of a 
 large tree stretched over the waters. Here with a 
 swift turn he shot the point of the canoe toward the 
 bank and sprang to the ground almost as soon as the 
 sands grated its bottom. 
 
 ''Now we can talk," he said as he assisted her from 
 the boat. "I don't think Tom can follow us here." 
 
 Cynthia sank to the grass beneath the tree and re- 
 moved her sunshade, letting the breezes from the lake 
 blow in her face, grateful for the cooling influence. 
 
 "What do you intend to do, Cynthia?" Henry Par- 
 sons asked after a time. 
 
 "I can't tell yet, Henry," she said with more courage 
 than she had felt before. His presence and sympathy 
 gave her strength. "I can't very well take mother 
 
WHEN CONDITIONS CHANGE 
 
 341 
 
 away from here, yet I can't see where I can get work 
 here. You know this town and its possibilities along 
 that line/' 
 He nodded understandingly but made no reply. After 
 
 "He toyed awhile with the grasses in al- 
 ienee, then asked abruptly : 'Will you marry 
 me, Cynthia?'" 
 
 a time it occurred to Cynthia that there was something 
 of embarrassment in his silence. She looked at him 
 questioningly and as she did so his gaze dropped to the 
 ground where he pulled absently at the bits of grass 
 beneath him. 
 
342 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ^* Cynthia," he said finally, "will you let me help 
 -ou?" 
 
 * ' No, Henry, ' ' she answered, ' * I will not. ' ' 
 
 *'But, Cynthia," he started. 
 
 ''You are generous, Henry, but you can't help here." 
 
 ''I could, Cynthia." 
 
 ''But I won't let you." 
 
 ''Cynthia!" 
 
 "There's no use, Henry," she said again; "there's 
 just no use. I will not have assistance from you. You 
 have helped already with your sympathy. That is 
 all you can do." 
 
 He toyed with the grasses in silence, then asked 
 abruptly : 
 
 "Will you marry me, Cynthia?" 
 
 "No, not that either," she returned. "You'll have 
 to give up, Henry. You cannot atone for what your 
 father and Marion Burnside have done." 
 
 "Is that the way you regard it, Cynthia?" he asked. 
 
 "That's the truth of the matter, Henry. That's what 
 it amounts to." 
 
 "Cynthia," he said, "I'm sorry you feel that way. 
 Some day you will know better. This much you must 
 promise, if you come to actual want will you let me 
 know?" 
 
 "Yes, Henry," she answered, "in that case, I'll 
 let you know. We must go now; I am to work this 
 afternoon. ' ' 
 
 He assisted her tenderly to arise. In his face was 
 regret that he had been unable to cope with the situa- 
 
WHEN CONDITIONS CHANGE 343 
 
 tion. The girl's manner was casual, yet her face was 
 flushed and she did not meet his gaze. 
 
 'Tynthia." 
 
 ''Yes, Henry." She studied carefully a bunch of 
 trees at the end of the lake, although she had known 
 every tree from childhood. A certain quality in his 
 voice had deepened the flush on her cheeks arid created 
 a panic in her heart. 
 
 "When conditions change, may I ask that question 
 again?" 
 
 After what seemed an eternity to him, her answer 
 came, barely audible : 
 
 **Yes, Henry, when conditions change." 
 
CHAPTER 30 
 A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 
 
 WHAT DO YOU think of our study prospects 
 for to-night?" Stanley Lakeman asked as he 
 arose and walked to the window where a 
 solid sheet of water spread over the glass, obstructing 
 his view. 
 
 ''They look slim, don't they?" Alfred Stewart an- 
 swered from the doorway as he watched the storm. 
 ** There's a regular little river where the path was. 
 We need the rain, but I wish it had come two hours 
 later." 
 
 ''I, too," Stanley said, coming to his side. *'I'm not 
 learning any too fast as it is, but we'll have to take 
 what comes." 
 
 A sudden shaft of fire danced its way across the 
 heavens and lighted the landscape with its radiance. 
 
 ''How's that for lightning?" Stanley asked, his eyes 
 alight with enthusiasm. "Some glare!" 
 
 "Magnificent," Alfred started, but his voice was 
 lost in the peal of thunder following. When it had 
 passed Stanley's laugh was drowned by the steady roar 
 of the downpouring rain. 
 
 Bill Lakeman coming into the room joined them in the 
 doorway. The enthusiasm in his eyes equaled that of 
 his son as they watched the willows along the creek far 
 below bend and sway with the fury of the storm. Stan- 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 345 
 
 ley knew his father's love for nature in action and 
 shared the old man's boyish desire to get out and 
 battle with the forces in operation. He inhaled deeply 
 the scented air. 
 
 ** Doesn't it smell good?" he commented. 
 
 But something else had attracted Bill Lakeman 's eye. 
 
 ''Look, boy," he said, pointing in the direction of the 
 grove. 
 
 ** Jumping Jupiter!" Stanley exclaimed. ''If it isn't 
 Jennie." 
 
 Bill Lakeman stepped into a closet and appeared with 
 a long coat over his arm. 
 
 "Here, Stanley," he called as Stanley started out of 
 the door uncovered, "take this coat." 
 
 "That girl's got nerve," the old man commented as 
 they watched Stanley slipping and sliding along the 
 clay surface of the path to where Jennie was dismount- 
 ing at the gate. Stanley led Daisy away to the barn 
 and Jennie made her way to the house. 
 
 "Come in out of the rain," Bill Lakeman urged. 
 "You'll drown." 
 
 "Oh, no," Jennie retorted; "just let me drip here 
 awhile. It 's dry behind these ivy vines. ' ' 
 
 She removed her raincoat, hat, and rubber boots and 
 left them beneath the shelter of the porch. 
 
 "The water will run off them there," she said. 
 
 "I'm surprised you had the courage to face it," Al- 
 fred commented as she came in. 
 
 * ' Courage, ' ' she echoed laughingly. ' ' The temptation 
 to get out in this rain was too great; I couldn't resist. 
 Also I didn't want to miss the study." 
 
346 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''We promised ourselves last night/* Alfred said a 
 short time later when they had gathered around the 
 tables and Stanley had closed the door to shut out the 
 noise of the storm, ' ' that we would consider the coming 
 of the church out of the wilderness. That will be the 
 first division of our study. 
 
 ' ' That -we may more fully comprehend the things we 
 shall study to-night, we will summarize again the condi- 
 tions as we left them. In our study we have considered 
 the setting up of the church by Christ. We saw that 
 church clothed in power and in communion with heaven. 
 Later we saw it besieged of the Devil, the dragon, and 
 prevailed against. (Daniel 7:21.) Thus the church 
 was lost in the wilderness. (Revelation 12.) The power 
 of the holy people scattered. (Daniel 12 : 7.) 
 
 "That is not all; his chosen people had entered upon 
 their long dispersion. Jerusalem was trodden down of 
 the Gentiles.'* 
 
 "A dark picture, boy,*' Bill Lakeman commented. 
 "A dark picture." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "it is dark. The Lord in 
 looking forward to it spoke of it as a time when 'dark- 
 ness should cover the earth and gross darkness the 
 minds of the people.' (Isaiah 60:2.) Yet the Lord 
 gives us the encouragement that 'at evening time it 
 shall be light. ' (Zechariah 14 : 7. ) " 
 
 "What do you understand by that?" Jennie asked. 
 
 "The evening time of the earth," Alfred answered, 
 "is that same time spoken of in Daniel as 'the time 
 of the end.' " 
 
 "Well, then, what is the meaning of the statement. 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 347 
 
 *'at evening time it shall be light'?" The question was 
 Stanley's. 
 
 ''The answer is found, Stanley, in Psalm 119:130. 
 You might read it." 
 
 ''It says, 'The entrance of thy word giveth light.' " 
 
 "Now verse 105." 
 
 ' ' ' Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto 
 my path.' " 
 
 "Now we can understand something of the nature of 
 the darkness that was upon the earth. It was, of course, 
 not a literal darkness. The Lord expresses it in a dif- 
 ferent way in Amos 8 : 9. Mr. Lakeman, will you look 
 it up, please?" 
 
 "It says the Lord will send a famine in the land; not 
 a famine of bread, but of hearing the word of the 
 Lord." 
 
 ' ' Now, Miss Lakeman, Isaiah 29 : 10. " 
 
 " 'For the Lord hath poured out upon you the spirit 
 of deep sleep, and hath closed your eyes: the prophets 
 and your ruler, the seers hath he covered.' " 
 
 "Do you remember," Alfred asked, "the parable of 
 the two captains? The army of the prince no longer 
 desired the messages sent from the palace of the king, 
 but felt themselves strong enough to fight the battle 
 alone. The world was in that condition. Man trusted 
 himself rather than God. So the Lord sent the famine, 
 not of bread, but that time in the history of the world 
 when he no longer sent his messages. When he covered 
 the prophets and the seers, the result was — darkness. 
 Yet there was to come a time when from among the 
 faithful the Lord would again organize his army and 
 
348 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 take up the battle against the enemy. (Revelation 
 17:14.) 
 
 "Isaiah 58:8 tells us, ^Then shall thy light break 
 forth as the morning. * 
 
 ''Now, Mr. Lakeman, Isaiah 29:14.'* 
 
 *' 'Therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvelous 
 work among this people, even a marvelous work and a 
 wonder : for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, 
 and the understanding of their prudent men shall 
 be hid.' " 
 
 ' ' Now, Stanley, Habakkuk 1:5.'* 
 
 *' 'Behold ye among the heathen, and regard, and 
 wonder marvelously: for I will work a work in your 
 days, which ye will not believe, though it be told you.' " 
 
 "I want to couple with that," Alfred went on, "a 
 statement in Ephesians 1 : 10 which reads : . ' That in 
 the dispensation of the fullness of times he might gather 
 together in one all things in Christ.' 
 
 "Also Acts 3: 21: 'Until the times of restitution of 
 all things, which God hath spoken by the mOuth of all 
 his holy prophets since the world began.' " 
 
 "I'd like to know what you are talking about," 
 Stanley said. 
 
 "I am talking," Alfred answered him, "about that 
 time when the Lord shall arise to maintain his own 
 cause ; when he shall call together the few who are will- 
 ing to receive his commandments, and shall again go 
 against the enemy to battle; when there shall no more 
 be a famine of the hearing the word of the Lord, but 
 when the Lord shall again speak and direct his work 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 349 
 
 as in the days of old; the evening time when it shall 
 be light. 
 
 *'He shall call his church out of the wilderness. That 
 gospel, the word of God, in the times of the restitution 
 of all things shall be preached once more in the world, 
 and thus the entrance of his word shall dispel the 
 gloom and at evening time it shall be light.** 
 
 *'Do you think he will ever do that?** Jennie asked. 
 
 "Listen,** Alfred said. *' Isaiah 49:22 tells us that 
 in the day when Israel shall be gathered, the Lord will 
 set up a standard to the people (Isaiah 18:3); that 
 in the sight of the the inhabitants of all the earth he is 
 going to set up an ensign on the mountains.*' 
 
 ''What do you think all that means?** Stanley asked. 
 
 ''There are three verses in the Bible which I think 
 will explain this matter," Alfred answered. "The 
 first is Daniel 2:44. Read it. Miss Lakeman, please.*' 
 
 " 'And in the days of these kings shall the God of 
 heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be de- 
 stroyed.' " 
 
 "We shall remember that the gospel of Christ is 
 the ensign of salvation, and that his church and his 
 kingdom are synonymous. So we see that the prophets 
 were looking down to that time when his gospel should 
 again be preached, when his church should again 
 be established in the last days." 
 
 "Don't you think that verse refers to the kingdom 
 set up by Christ when he was here on earth?" Jennie 
 asked. 
 
 "No," Alfred said, "it could not be. If you will study 
 that vision when yt)u go home you will see that this 
 
360 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 kingdom of God will be set up during the time of the 
 kingdoms into which Rome was divided — 4n the days 
 of these kings. ' That would bring it down to that time 
 commonly known as the latter days. 
 
 "He speaks of the same thing in Isaiah 2:2. Mr. 
 Lakeman, will you turn and read it, please?" 
 
 " 'And it shall come to pass in the last days, that 
 the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established 
 in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above 
 the hills.'" 
 
 "Throughout the Bible," Alfred oontinued in ex- 
 planation, "the kingdoms of the earth, its lands, and 
 people, are spoken of as mountains and hills. Those 
 people who served God and were his people are spoken 
 of as mountains. Those not serving him could not 
 attain to the heights of those who did and are called 
 hills. The Lord is giving us the encouragement to know 
 that although the dragon prevailed for a time over his 
 church and kingdom, yet the time would come, in the 
 last days, when his church would be restored and estab- 
 lished on the tops of the mountains and shall be exalted 
 above the nations of the world. From his choice lands 
 should his message go. 
 
 "That prophet speaks of this great event again in 
 Isaiah 18:3. Miss Bumside, will you read?" 
 
 " 'And ye inhabitants of the world, and dwellers 
 on the earth, see ye, when he lifteth up an ensign 
 on the mountains; and when he bloweth a trumpet 
 hear ye.' " 
 
 "Where is this ensign to be lifted up?" 
 
 "Just where the Lord said he"* would establish his 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 351 
 
 kingdom: 'on the mountains.' We learned that there 
 were two mountains equal in height, the mountain of 
 Israel and the land shadowing with wings, Joseph's 
 land. The Bible goes farther; it tells us upon which of 
 these two mountains the ensign is to be raised. One of 
 them was to send out a message, a message that would 
 be of special interest to scattered Israel. A part of the 
 message which their swift running vessels was to bear 
 to the world was: 
 
 '* 'AH ye inhabitants of the world, and dwellers on the 
 earth, see ye, when he lifteth up an ensign on the moun- 
 tains ; and when he bloweth a trumpet, hear ye. ' 
 
 ''Now, Mr. Lakeman, from this eighteenth chapter 
 of Isaiah, tell us which of these two mountains should 
 give that message to the earth." 
 
 "Why," the old man said thoughtfully, "the land 
 shadowing with wings, which is beyond the rivers of 
 Ethiopia." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said. "Now, do you remember a 
 peculiar statement made by Christ when he was on 
 earth? 'The first shall be last, and the last shall be 
 first'? Christ established his church 1900 years ago 
 on the mountain of Israel. From them it went to 
 scattered Israel and the nations of the earth. In the 
 last days when the mountains of the Lord's house shall 
 be established, when the ensign is raised, the trumpet 
 blown, it shall not be first upon the mountain of Israel, 
 but upon that other mountain equal in height, the land 
 shadowing with wings, the great American Continent, 
 Joseph's land. Prom them Isaiah tells us shall the 
 message go to Israel, and thus 'the first shall be last, 
 and the last shall be first. ' " 
 
352 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Do you think that all these verses mean the same 
 thing ? ' ' Stanley asked. ' ' Is the mountain of the Lord 's 
 house, and the ensign, and the trumpet all the same?'' 
 
 *'I regard it so/' Alfred said. ''The gospel of Christ 
 is the trumpet which the Lord is going to blow in the 
 hearing of all the world. (Matthew 24.) His church 
 will be restored in its power. Let us turn now to 
 Daniel 2. Mr. Lakeman, will you read, beginning with 
 verse 31?" 
 
 " 'Thou, king, sawest, and beheld a great image. 
 This great image, whose brightness was excellent, 
 stood before thee; and the form thereof was terrible. 
 This image's head was of fine gold, his breast and his 
 arms of silver, his belly and his thighs of brass, his legs 
 of iron, his feet part of iron and part of clay.' " 
 
 "That will do. Now notice especially verse 34. 
 Stanley, read." 
 
 " 'Thou sawest till that a stone was cut out without 
 hands.' " 
 
 "That is a peculiar statement," Alfred said. "A 
 stone cut out without hands. From where? The Bible 
 tells us. Miss Bumside, verse 45." 
 
 "It says the stone was cut out of the mountain with- 
 out hands." 
 
 ' ' How could a stone be cut out of the mountain with- 
 out hands? I can't see that," Stanley said. "And 
 what is the stone?" 
 
 "The same chapter tells us what the stone is," Al- 
 fred answered. "You will find it in verse 44." 
 
 " 'And in the days of these kings shaU the God of 
 heaven set up a kingdom.* " 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 353 
 
 ''Is that the stone? Do you think it means Christ's 
 church?" 
 
 ''I do," Alfred said. "Verse 35 tells us more about 
 the stone. "What became of it, Miss Burnside?" 
 
 ''It became a great mountain and filled the whole 
 earth." 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said. "When the mountain of the 
 Lord's house shall be established, in the last days, on 
 the tops of the mountains, its beginning will seem small, 
 just a little stone cut out of the mountain, yet it shall 
 grow until it fills the whole earth. It shall be exalted 
 above the hills." 
 
 "Well, I want to know one thing more," Stanley 
 said. ' ' What is the meaning of the statement, ' cut out 
 of the mountain without hands ' ? " 
 
 "Simply this, Stanley," Alfred answered: "Man 
 had nothing to do with the setting up of the kingdom. 
 Human hands were not the power which cut it out 
 of the mountain. God was going to set up his own 
 kingdom. Isaiah said, 'See ye, when he lifteth up an 
 ensign on the mountains, and when he bloweth a trum- 
 pet, hear ye.' " 
 
 "Well, I don't see how the Lord's going to do that," 
 Bill Lakeman spoke up, breaking his silence. 
 
 "Listen how; Revelation 14: 6: 
 
 " 'And I saw another angel fly in the midst of 
 heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto 
 them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and 
 kindred, and tongue, and people.' 
 
 "Man will not study out, man will not plan the 
 organization of the church of Christ in the last days. 
 
354 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Christ himself will send an angel from heaven, com- 
 missioned to do that work. An angel shall restore 
 that gospel which Christ said should be preached in 
 all the world for a witness before the end shall come. 
 The kingdom of God will once more be with men and al- 
 though the day preceding had been dark, yet 'the light 
 shall break forth as the morning. ' The land shadowing 
 with wings shall send its message of salvation, and the 
 famine for the word of the Lord shall be broken. 
 'At evening time it shall be light,* the prophet said. 
 
 ** *And it shall come to pass in the last days, I will 
 pour out my spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and 
 your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men 
 shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. 
 And on my servants and on my handmaidens I will 
 pour out in those days of my Spirit; and they shall 
 prophesy.' " 
 
 "I wish he would hurry and come," Bill Lakeman 
 said in a voice that trembled. "I wish that angel 
 would come." 
 
 "He has come, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred answered, his 
 own voice subdued with feeling, "else how could I de- 
 clare this message unto you?" 
 
 The old man sat up and looked at him questioningly. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he asked. 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said, "do you think I of 
 myself am able to study out all I have taught you here 
 during these evenings of study? 
 
 "I am not," he answered his own question. "This is 
 my message; God has once more established his king- 
 dom. He has s^nt his angel to the earth with the ever- 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 355 
 
 lasting gospel that in its simplicity and its fullness it 
 might again be preached in the earth. He has organized 
 again his church. He has taken command of his army 
 and the great dispensation of the restitution of all 
 things has begun. " 
 
 ''My God," the old man prayed unconsciously, ''I 
 wish it were true." 
 
 ''It is true," the young man went on, his voice deep 
 with the power of his own conviction. Stanley felt his 
 heart bum and his frame tremble with the power of 
 the words. ' ' I have no apology for coming to you with 
 the statement that God has spoken to the earth again. 
 He said he would do it and has fulfilled his word. He 
 has started his marvelous work and a wonder which 
 like the little stone cut out of the mountain, may in the 
 beginning seem of little consequence, yet will end in 
 the overthrow of wickedness and in the breaking in 
 pieces of man-made institutions and the gathering to- 
 gether in one all things in Christ. 
 
 "His church is brought forth out of the wilderness, 
 and as the head, the chief corner stone, he directs and 
 supports his work. He has restored the organization of 
 apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers, bish- 
 ops, deacons, elders, high priests. He is giving as he 
 gave in days gone by, the gifts of the Spirit, prophecy, 
 tongues, interpretation of tongues, healings, miracles, 
 faith, knowledge, wisdom, helps, governments. The 
 church no longer walks in darkness, but is illuminated 
 by the light and power of the Spirit. I can't seem to 
 make my language expressive enough, but I do declare 
 
356 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 that Christ has established h"s kingdom as the Bible 
 said he would in the last days and that we are living 
 in his fullness of times. ' ' 
 
 *'If it were only true," the old man muttered again. 
 "If it were only true." 
 
 ''The Lord has not left himself without a witness," 
 Alfred went on. ''Do you remember the people he had 
 led away and planted on a mountain high and eminent? 
 Do you remember that Christ said, 'In the mouth of 
 two or three witnesses shall every word be established'? 
 That was the great plan of God. Hidden away from 
 each other, the scattered people whom he had chosen 
 to enlighten the world should make their records which 
 would, when placed with the record of Judah (the 
 Bible) in the great day of the world's doubt, testify in 
 unmistakable terms to the truthfulness of the gospel of 
 Christ and the unimpeachability of the word of God.- 
 
 "There is a prophecy in Ezekiel 37: 16, 19 which we 
 will need to consider in this connection. Let us turn 
 to it. Stanley, read, please." 
 
 " 'Moreover, thou Son of Man, take thee one stick, 
 and write upon it, for Judah, and for the children of 
 Israel his companions.' " 
 
 ' ' The explanation is given in verse 19. ' ' 
 
 " 'Say unto them. Thus saith the Lord God; Behold, 
 I will take the stick of Joseph, which is in the hand of 
 Ephraim, and the tribes of Israel his fellows, and will 
 put them with him, even with the stick of Judah, and 
 make them one stick, and they shall be one in mine 
 hand.'" 
 
 "You will notice," Alfred commented, "from verse 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 357 
 
 16, that the Lord commanded the prophet to take two 
 sticks and 'write upon them/ showing that the illus- 
 tration referred to written records. The one for Judah 
 we have here in the Bible, that record of Judah which 
 has been used so long in the hands of the Lord for the 
 enlightenment of the world. Yet what of that other 
 record, the stick of Joseph, which the Lord said he 
 would in the last days use in connection with the record 
 of Judah for the salvation of the world ? 
 
 **How were we to get that record? As Mr. Lakeman 
 said last night, America has been discovered many 
 years. The record was not with the Indians when it 
 was discovered. How then was it to come?" 
 
 ''How can we know?" Stanley asked. 
 
 ' ' We must learn from the Bible, ' ' Alfred said. ' ' Miss 
 Bumside, will you read for us a statement from Psalm 
 85:11?" 
 
 ' ' ' Truth shall spring out of the earth, ' ' ' Jennie read. 
 
 "Let us not forget that," Alfred went on, "while we 
 study carefully the twenty-ninth chapter of Isaiah. 
 This is possibly one of the most comprehensive chapters 
 in the whole Bible. The first ten verses cover a great 
 stretch of the world's history. This is shown by a 
 statement in verse one. 'Add ye, year to year.' The 
 picture begins in the city of Jerusalem where the whole 
 great drama started. Just a word is given in passing, 
 yet by that word we see the dispersion of Ariel (Jeru- 
 salem). The Lord is showing his Prophet Isaiah the 
 same vision of the future we have already considered 
 from Zephaniah 2, the distress which was coming upon 
 Jerusalem which would end in the great dispersion even 
 
858 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 beyond the rivers of Ethiopia. Yet the Lord said they 
 should be brought down. Their speech should be low 
 out of the dust. Time passes; year is added to year. 
 That time comes in the history of the world when, 
 Israel scattered and brought low, the Lord ceases for 
 the first time to speak unto man. It is a significant fact 
 that from the beginning until the Christian church 
 went into apostasy somewhere between the third and 
 the sixth centuries, the Lord always spoke to his people 
 on earth. It was as we have said. Isaiah looking down 
 through future generations saw that time when the 
 prophets and the seers were covered (Isaiah 29:10), 
 that time when the temple of the tabernacle of the 
 testimony in heaven was closed." 
 
 "What's that?" Stanley questioned. 
 
 *' We are told," Alfred went on, "in the book of Reve- 
 lation that the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of 
 prophecy. So the prophet saw that time when Christ 
 no longer added to the word the testimony of the spirit 
 of prophecy. The gifts of the gospel were not given; 
 the temple of the tabernacle of the testimony was 
 closed. A continuance of the study of Revelation will 
 show it was not until the angel had flown in the midst 
 of heaven having the everlasting gospel to preach unto 
 them that dwell on the earth (Revelation 14: 6) that the 
 temple of the tabernacle of the testimony in heaven 
 was opened (Revelation 15:5), and communication 
 from heaven to earth was once more established. Listen 
 what followed — Isaiah 29 : 11 : 
 
 " 'And the vision of all is become unto you as the 
 words of a book that is sealed, which men deliver to one 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 359 
 
 that is learned, saying, Read this, I pray thee : and he 
 saith, I cannot; for it is sealed.' 
 
 ''Read the next verse, Stanley." 
 
 '* 'And the book is delivered to him that is not 
 learned, saying, Read this, I pray thee: and he saith, 
 I am not learned.' " 
 
 ' ' I would not have us forget, ' ' Alfred said, ' ' that we 
 are striving to learn from the Bible the manner in 
 which we may expect the record of Joseph to come. 
 We learned from the Bible (Ezekiel 37 : 15) that it was 
 coming. Now we are trying to learn how, that we may 
 recognize it when it comes. 
 
 "The Bible tells us that the word of God is truth. 
 We have learned now that truth shall spring out of the 
 ground. We have learned that scattered Ariel (Isaiah 
 29:2) was to speak out of the dust. We have also 
 learned that in connection with this speaking out of the 
 dust the attention of the world is going to be directed 
 to a book, and that two men are to have to do with its 
 first reading: one, a wise, learned man, who will fail 
 to read it; the other an unlearned man who, through 
 his lack of learning, will also be unable to read it." 
 
 "Well, that's quite a scope," Stanley said. "Will 
 the book get read ? " 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "but not by the power of 
 man. Miss Lakeman, verse 14." 
 
 ' ' ' Therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvelous 
 work among this people, even a marvelous work and a 
 Wonder : for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, 
 
360 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 and the understanding of their prudent men shall be 
 hid/ '^ 
 
 ''Now verse 18." 
 
 " 'And in that day shall the deaf hear the words of 
 the book, and the eyes of the blind shall see out of ob- 
 scurity, and out of darkness/ " 
 
 "The book will come forth but not by the power of 
 man." 
 
 "And you think that refers to the record of Joseph?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered; "the two choice lands were 
 to give their testimony to the world. And they were 
 both to come to us by the power of God. Although the 
 powers of hell and the ignorance of men have waged 
 war against it, this Bible has come to us, preserved 
 marvelously through the ages. This record of Joseph 
 has come to us in the same way, by the power of God, 
 and they two were to become one in the hands of the 
 Lord in the last days. (Ezekiel 37 : 15, 19.) 
 
 "The Lord was very particular in this matter. He 
 did not want us to make a mistake. So he gave a sign 
 that we might know when the time had arrived and 
 the matter been fulfilled. The sign is promised in verses 
 17 and 18 of the chapter we are studying (Isaiah 29). 
 We will listen while Miss Bumside reads." 
 
 " 'Is it not yet a very little while, and Lebanon 
 shall be turned into a fruitful field, and the fruitful 
 field shall be esteemed as a forest?* " 
 
 "That is the sign. Closely following the coming 
 forth of the book 'Lebanon shall be turned into a 
 fruitful field.' 
 
 "Now let us look once more at Psalm 85 : 11 : 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 361 
 
 " 'Truth shall spring out of the earth; and right- 
 eousness shall look down from heaven. Yea, the Lord 
 shall give that which is good; and our land shall yield 
 her increase.' 
 
 ''The two prophets were looking forward to the 
 coming forth of the records of Joseph which were 
 buried in the earth until that time when the Lord saw 
 fit to call them forth. When their speech should be low 
 out of the dust and their message should spring out of 
 the earth, then the Lord would give us a sign and the 
 land of Palestine should 'yield her increase.' By that 
 we were to know that the Lord had started his work, 
 that the record of Joseph was among men, for after 
 lying idle and desolate for hundreds of years the land 
 of Lebanon was to be fruitful again." 
 
 "Well, the Lord must have started his work then," 
 Bill Lakeman said, "for that land is fruitful. The 
 rain began to fall there before the war. That land's 
 not desolate now." 
 
 "No," Alfred said, "that land is no longer desolate. 
 The Lord has confirmed his work. He said he would do 
 a marvelous work and a wonder, that he would bring 
 truth out of the ground and cause scattered Ariel to 
 speak out of the dust; that the deaf should hear the 
 words of the book and the eyes blinded by the teachings 
 of the precepts of men should see out of obscurity and 
 out of darkness. When, as it was with you, Mr. Lake- 
 man, men could not see the way, then the Lord will 
 bring to their aid the testimony of another witness. 
 When, from beyond the rivers of Ethiopia, Joseph's 
 land, should go forth the message, then it was that the 
 
362 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 stick of Joseph should be used in the hands of the Lord 
 with the stick of Judah to dispel the darkness of the 
 world, that we might know that God liveth. 
 
 ''You made the statement, Mr. Lakeman, that it 
 looked like things had gone bad on the hands of the 
 Lord all around: his church in the wilderness, his 
 chosen people rejected, and, I could add, his choice land 
 desolate. But that was not the final scene. From 
 Ezekiel 37 we learn that at the time the two records 
 shall be in God's hand, Israel shall be gathered back 
 and restored to their own land a united nation. The 
 Lord says (Ezekiel 39 : 22, 29) : 
 
 '' 'So the house of Israel shall know that I am the 
 Lord their God from that day and forward. . . . After 
 that they have borne their shame, and all their tres- 
 passes whereby they have trespassed against me. Then 
 shall they know that I am the Lord their God, which 
 caused them to be led into captivity among the heathen : 
 but I have gathered them unto their own land, and have 
 left none of them any more there. Neither will I hide 
 my face any more from them: for I have poured out 
 my Spirit upon the house of Israel, saith the Lord God. ' 
 
 "So in the final scene, the chosen people will be re- 
 stored, their land restored to its fertility. More than 
 that, 'it shall come to pass in the last days, that the 
 mountain of the Lord's house shall be established in 
 the tops of the mountains and shall be exalted above 
 the hills.' 
 
 "It has been our privilege, Mr. Lakeman, to live in 
 that 'dispensation of the fullness of times,' when he 
 shall 'gather together in one all things in Christ'; in 
 
A MARVELOUS WORK AND A WONDER 363 
 
 that glorious time when shall be witnessed the restitu- 
 tion af all things spoken by the mouth of all the holy 
 prophets since the world began. 
 
 ''His people may have drifted. The tide of battle 
 may have gone against his church. His army may have 
 for a time forgotten his counsel. Yet, in the 'time of 
 the restitution of all things,' 'these shall make war with 
 the Lamb, and the Lamb shall overcome them : for he is 
 Lord of lords, and King of kings : and they that are 
 with him are called, and chosen, and faithful.' (Reve- 
 lation 17:14.) 
 
 ' ' The last triumphant picture we have of the church 
 is this: 'And to her it was granted that she should be 
 arrayed in fine linen, clean and white : for the fine linen 
 is the righteousness of saints. Let us be glad and re- 
 joice and give honor to him, for the marriage of the 
 Lamb is come, and his wife has made herself ready. ' 
 
 "No, Mr. Lakeman, I do not fear, for the final tri- 
 umph will be with the King of kings and the Lord of 
 lords.'' 
 
 "Bless his name," Aunt Sophronia murmured rever- 
 ently. 
 
 As for Bill Lakeman the tears rolled once more down 
 his furrowed cheeks. 
 
 "An old man's life isn't much to give him," he said 
 in a broken voice. "But, oh, I would like to be among 
 those who are called and chosen and faithful. Why, 
 boy, he's fought a losing game for so long. There 
 hasn't been anybody to stand by him. It seems like all 
 the world pulls away from him one way or another. 
 I never understood before what a big fight he was 
 
364 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 making, and there's been no one to fight with him." 
 
 ''No," Alfred said, ''he has trodden the wine press 
 alone. Yet, Mr. Lakeman, in the end there were those 
 with him who were ' called and chosen and faithful.' " 
 
 "It's not much," the old man muttered, his frame 
 shaking with emotion; "an old man's life ain't much 
 to give him. But it's all I've got. Lord; it's all I've 
 got." 
 
 Stanley stepped to his father's side, not ashamed of 
 the tears which filled his own dark eyes. 
 
 "Maybe, father," he said, "a young man's life 
 thrown in might help a little. Maybe he'd take us 
 both." 
 
 "God bless you, boy," the old man said, wringing 
 his son's hand. "Maybe he would; maybe he would." 
 
 As for Alfred, a joy so great filled his heart that he 
 felt it to be a foretaste of the joy of that great multi- 
 tude whose voice the apostle had heard, as the voice of 
 many waters, and the voice of mighty thunderings, say- 
 ing, "Alleluia ! for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth." 
 
CHAPTER 31 
 THE FACTORY BURNS — JENNIE AND CYNTHIA INSIDE 
 
 HOW did you ever succeed in getting to me, Jen- 
 nie?" Cynthia asked as she pushed back her 
 chair and arose from her machine to greet her 
 friend. ''I didn't suppose your father would allow 
 you to speak to me again." 
 
 ''Father is out of town," Jennie answered, '*so I 
 came to see you. I want to know what has happened. 
 Father asked me to have nothing more to do with you 
 but would give no explanation. I don't understand it, 
 Cynthia, and have no thought of obeying. So long as 
 you need a friend you can depend on me." 
 
 *'I'm sure of that, Jennie," Cynthia said gratefully. 
 ''Let's go over to the window and I'll tell you all I 
 know. Some one might overhear us here." 
 
 They made their way around the scrap boxes and 
 past the humming machines to the window in the rear 
 of the room. Many curious eyes followed them, for 
 some suspicion of Cynthia's disaster was raised in the 
 minds of her fellow workers and gossip flowed freely. 
 
 "Did you know I was fired?" Cynthia asked, when 
 safe in their retreat they breathed gratefully of the 
 fresh air which came to them from the open window. 
 
 "Cynthia! surely my father didn't do that!" 
 
 "Well, he and Squire Parsons together did it. I felt 
 dreadfully about it at first. I don't see yet what I am 
 
366 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 to do, but something will turn up. There will be some- 
 thing I can do." 
 
 **Yes/' Jennie said, ''we'll find work for you." 
 ''Bo you know, Jennie," Cynthia said, "life never 
 seems quite desolate when we have one friend. You 
 can never guess what a comfort you are to me. You — 
 Oh! merciful heavens! look!" 
 
 Pandemonium reigned. Cynthia's cry was drowned 
 or rather amalgamated into the cries and shrieks of 
 others. Jennie had watched idly, as one of the girls 
 arose from her seat and advanced to the door opening 
 into the stairway. Her flesh turned cold and her heart 
 ceased to beat as with the opening of the door a great 
 sheet of flames rolled into the room. Not thinking to 
 shut the door the girl fled screaming to the far end of 
 the room. The omission was fatal. On the strong 
 draughts from the open windows the flames rode on 
 their mission of destruction. With incredible swiftness 
 they licked up the scraps of cloth strewn everywhere 
 and fastened themselves on the oil-soaked woodwork 
 which supported machines. 
 
 ' ' Oh, what shall we do ? " Jennie moaned. ' ' How will 
 we ever get out?" 
 
 Her question remained unanswered. The stairway, 
 the only means of egress, was a solid, crackling mass. 
 Jennie looked to the ground below and knew that 
 jumping was out of the question. 
 
 "Jennie," Cynthia's voice was barely audible above 
 the noise made by the panic-stricken shopgirls, "you 
 
THE FACTORY BURNS 367 
 
 must help me quiet these girls. They'll be jumping 
 from the windows soon. Oh, Mary, don't do that! 
 You'll be killed." 
 
 ''I'd rather die!" the girl exclaimed. ''I'd a heap 
 rather die than be burned." 
 
 ''But listen, the fire department will come. They'll 
 take us out. ' ' 
 
 The girl did not jump but sank to the floor, chatter- 
 ing madly. 
 
 "There's the fire bell!" Jennie called, as above the 
 din and shrieks of those entrapped in the building the 
 metallic tones of the bell reached her. Her mind sud- 
 denly cleared and hope returned. 
 
 "Oh, if there were only fire escapes," Cynthia wailed. 
 ' ' One hundred and fifty girls and no fire escapes ! ' ' 
 
 "But the fire department, Cynthia," Jennie urged 
 reassuringly. "Didn't you hear the bell?" 
 
 Cynthia only shook her head. 
 
 "Jennie, they'll never get half of us out," she said. 
 "There are only two ladders in town that will reach 
 these windows. The fire chief told me so himself." 
 
 "What can we do?" Jennie asked, choking on the 
 black smoke which already filled the room. 
 
 "Nothing that I can see, except die when the time 
 comes," Cynthia replied. 
 
 The flames crowded them close. All over the room 
 girls were fainting, sometimes falling directly into the 
 fire. Choking and fighting for breath, Jennie and 
 Cynthia succeeded in reaching two such unfortunates 
 and dragged them to the regions of the windows. Many 
 cooler heads were at work, and more than one girl was 
 
368 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 dragged back as she climbed to the sill for the awful 
 plunge. 
 
 The news spread rapidly, and by the time the men 
 struggled around the corner with the heavy hose cart, 
 the mass of Leesburg citizens stood wringing their hands 
 in the street below. There were fathers and mothers, 
 brothers, sisters, and lovers whose voices mingled in 
 one mighty wail of helplessness. 
 
 The ladders came and were adjusted and the work 
 of rescue began; but it became evident to those who 
 watched in the street below that Cynthia's statement 
 was true, not half would be saved. Already the flames 
 showed red and seemed to fill the room. Crowded at 
 the windows pleading for help were the faces of the 
 loved ones, yet no help was possible, and many a man 
 and woman tore their hair in the strength of their des- 
 peration. 
 
 In the meantime, Jennie, Cynthia, and others were 
 busy. The closer they were pressed by the flames, the 
 more intense the heat, the more suffocatingly the smoke 
 rolled around them, the more uncontrollable became the 
 craze of fear with which they contended and which 
 they endeavored to soothe. 
 
 Finally, eating through from wall to wall, a solid 
 sheet of flames divided the building, and the two girls 
 found themselves with many others cut off from the 
 part where the ladders offered hope. Cynthia saw with 
 a sinking heart that there was not a man among them. 
 Then the thing she most dreaded happened. One of 
 the girls, eluding their watchfulness, climbed to the 
 window and leaped to the ground below. Her lifeless 
 
THE FACTORY BURNS 369 
 
 body was picked up, with neck broken and skull frac- 
 tured from its impact with the stone curbing. 
 
 ' ' Don 't jump, girls. Don 't jump, ' * Cynthia pleaded. 
 ''Not yet, at least. Give them a chance to get us out 
 first. '^ 
 
 Cynthia knew that not long would her voice be 
 heeded. 
 
 ''Help me, Cynthia," Jennie called. *'Help me.'* 
 
 Cynthia turned at the cry and saw Jennie almost 
 concealed in the smoke which rolled about her, tugging 
 at a great bolt of the woolen cloth. 
 
 "A fire escape," Jennie choked. "We can make a 
 fire escape." 
 
 Cynthia did not understand, but together they suc- 
 ceeded in getting the bolt to the window where with 
 the help of others they raised it to the sill. 
 
 "Hold tight, girls," Jennie directed. "Don't let it 
 slip from your hands." 
 
 The great bolt crashed to the ground, unwinding as 
 it went. 
 
 Even then those below did not comprehend the sig- 
 nificance of the act. Thinking it was an attempt to 
 save the cloth, two men stooped to pick it up and carry 
 it away from the burning building. 
 
 While it was still in their hands a mighty cheer rose 
 from the watchers as a girl shooting down the sicken- 
 ing incline bumped against them and tumbled to the 
 ground in safety. Then it was that many hands were 
 offered to balance and support the appliance. In rapid 
 succession the girls slid from the inferno above to the 
 
370 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 heaven below and fainted as they realized their salva- 
 tion. 
 
 The men at the ladders in the other division were 
 working rapidly. One after another the victims were 
 passed from man to man and deposited in the arms of 
 anxious relatives, yet not until some had received seri- 
 ous burns. 
 
 Swiftly as they worked the minutes dragged unend- 
 ingly to the watchers. From different parts of the 
 building the sounds of falling timber came to them 
 with the awful revelation that the floor was giving way. 
 The flames had eaten through from behind the boiler 
 room and part of the building was already gone ; only 
 over the office and storeroom were there supports 
 remaining. The second floor in this part was rapidly 
 burning. It was a terrible race with death. The heat 
 of the flames seared the faces of the rescuers, and only 
 the bravest, most determined, now dared enter on his 
 mission. One by one others dropped away, overcome 
 by heat and smoke. 
 
 Then a new danger was seen by those below. The 
 flames which had confined themselves to the interior 
 were seen to break out around the windows. The sill 
 of the window from which the improvised cloth slide 
 suspended was burning. Rapidly the flames ate their 
 way toward the cloth. The firemen drenched it with 
 their hose but to no avail. As the cloth gave way strong 
 arms caught the girl who was at that moment making 
 the slide and bore her away. 
 
 ''How many more are up there?" her rescuer 
 pleaded. 
 
THE FACTORY BURNS 371 
 
 ''Only two," she gasped, ''Jennie Burnside and Cyn- 
 thia Brown, who were holding the cloth." 
 
 "0 God!" the words broke from the lips of the 
 young man who supported her; nor were they oaths, 
 but the unconscious, unknowing prayer of a soul in 
 distress. 
 
 "Get a ladder," he begged; "get a ladder, quick." 
 
 But the ladders were busy and it seemed ages before 
 his prayer was answered. When at last one of the 
 ladders had accomplished its mission the firemen hur- 
 ried to the ground to change its location. 
 
 "Here ! at this window !" many voices directed. 
 
 Before it touched the wall a man had half made the 
 ascension but paused when the window was reached, 
 beaten back by the heat and smoke. 
 
 "It's no use," he said. "No living being could get 
 in there. ' ' 
 
 His words were unheeded. The young man pushed 
 by him on the ladder and started for the top. 
 
 "Henry," the voice of Squire Parsons ordered, 
 "come back here; you'll be killed." 
 
 His words fell on deaf ears, yet they were not deaf, 
 for the next words spoken by the voice of a stranger 
 elicited a comprehending nod. 
 
 "Go on," the stranger urged, directly below hin*. 
 "I'm with you." 
 
 A deathly silence reigned except for the roar of the 
 flames as they leaped, eating their way through the 
 entire building. 
 
 Only a moment did Henry Parsons pause at the 
 window as he pulled his coat over his head. He was 
 
372 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 seen for a moment as though he stood in flames and 
 was then swallowed up in a seething furnace. 
 
 The other followed his example, but as he climbed it 
 was seen that he was a cripple and that the knee was 
 used in climbing that a disabled foot might be spared. 
 
 The moments which elapsed when they could not be 
 seen were heavy with anxiety and seemed to stop in 
 their passing. Many hearts which had long forgotten 
 to pray were lifted in earnest petition for their wel- 
 fare. The eternity was broken. The moments marched 
 on. One was seen again, and in his arms the form of a 
 girl. It was seen with consternation that her clothing 
 was burning, and fear laid its cold hand on the hearts 
 of the people, while the words, "Too late," were upon 
 their lips. 
 
 Unrecognizable in appearance, yet it was seen by 
 the use of the knee in descending that it was the 
 stranger who was safe. Henry Parsons was still within. 
 
 Just when the watchers were losing hope he appeared. 
 By his movements it was known that his strength 
 was almost gone. The tension of the people broke 
 loose in a great, glad cheer, for he, too, bore in his 
 arms a woman, and they knew his efforts had not been 
 in vain. A line of men stood on the ladder, ready to 
 relieve him of his burden. It was well they did, for in 
 his own efforts he staggered as a drunken man and 
 would have fallen had not willing arms conveyed him 
 to the ground, and Squire Parsons, suddenly discover- 
 ing somewhere in the recesses of his heart a spark of 
 love for his son, raved like a madman. 
 
THE FACTORY BURNS 373 
 
 During this period a new personality had ejected 
 itself as a working element into the events of the day. 
 It was a woman with cool, clear blue eyes and a face 
 which, while not beautiful, inspired confidence. She 
 had evidently just arrived and still carried in her hand 
 a traveling bag. One quick glance had taken in the 
 situation. Her commands came authoritatively and 
 were instantly obeyed. By the time Henry Parsons was 
 borne to the grassy spot where she had directed them 
 to lay the girls, the horses drawing the hospital 
 ambulance rounded the corner on the run and the in- 
 jured were lifted to the interior. 
 
 When Alfred Stewart turned away, the woman laid 
 a detaining hand on his arm. 
 
 ''Get in," she directed; ''you need attention also; 
 your face is burned at least." 
 
 "Doctor Lakeman will dress the burns," he said. 
 
 "Doctor Lakeman will be at the hospital," she an- 
 swered. "I've sent for him." 
 
 When they reached the place they saw Spider, covered 
 with foam, standing at the door, and Alfred knew that 
 Stanley had preceded them. 
 
 The next few hours were busy ones. Alfred, who 
 was only slightly burned, was placed in the care of 
 apprentice nurses while the others were removed to a 
 private ward. Stanley came to him a moment with 
 another physician and examined him carefully, giving 
 directions for his care. Ere he left him he laid his hand 
 for one moment on Alfred's arm, and Alfred felt a 
 flood of affection sweep over him again for this man 
 
374 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 who was so recently a stranger. How he had come to 
 love him! He could picture no future for himself in 
 which Stanley Lakeman did not figure. Again as he 
 had done many times he sent up an earnest prayer to 
 God in behalf of his new friends. 
 
 Not long after, his mind was greatly relieved when 
 a nurse came to him bearing a message scrawled on 
 Stanley's card. 
 
 ''None are fatally burned. We'll have them out 
 soon. ' ' 
 
 Then he suddenly realized a great weariness and fell 
 asleep. 
 
CHAPTER 32 
 THE CIRCLE WIDENS 
 
 ALTHOUGH the excitement of the day had fa- 
 tigued him, Alfred Stewart did not sleep long. 
 The burns on his face and hands gave him no 
 little pain. He arose and moved about the room 
 restlessly, torn between an anxiety to remain and an 
 inclination to go. Bill Lakeman, he knew, would be 
 anxious, but until he himself was assured of Jennie's 
 condition he could not leave. 
 
 As he stood at the window pondering the situation, 
 Stanley came to him again, and Alfred was glad, for 
 the habitual smile had returned to Stanley's eyes, the 
 usual cheer to his manner, and Alfred knew that all 
 was well. 
 
 Stanley came to the window and stood for a moment 
 with his arm on Alfred's shoulder. 
 
 ''What do you think of her?" he asked. 
 
 "Of whom?" Alfred asked stupidly. Then a picture 
 of clear blue eyes which looked out at him under a 
 wide hat came into his mind and he heard again: ''Doc- 
 tor Lakeman will be there; I have sent for him." 
 
 "Stanley!" he said, "it's not " 
 
 "Yes, it is," Stanley interrupted, a gleam of pride 
 in his eyes. ' ' The only woman in the world. ' ' 
 
 "I should have known," Alfred commented. "I 
 
376 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 should have known when I first saw her. I must have 
 been blind. She is just what I would have expected 
 her to be. I can't see why I didn't know," he ended 
 laughing. Then his face was very serious. He looked 
 off at the distant hilltop that Stanley might not see 
 his face. 
 
 ''Is Jennie burned badly?" he asked. 
 
 ''I came to take you to see her," Stanley answered. 
 ''She is painfully burned but not seriously. The nerv- 
 ous strain will have more lasting effect. If it hadn't 
 been for you and Parsons it would have been different. 
 A moment's hesitation would have been fatal in Jen- 
 nie 's case. Her clothing was badly burned. Where did 
 you find them?" 
 
 "I can't tell you," Alfred answered, "the smoke 
 was so thick. They were on the floor, at least the one 
 I found was. I can't tell you more. I was afraid we 
 were too late." 
 
 "Well, it was fortunate," Stanley said, "extremely 
 so. I can hardly see how jhey escaped with their 
 lives. Parsons is in a bad way. I thought at first he 
 had inhaled the flames, but I'm glad to say it is not 
 so bad as that. They'll all be out soon. Come now; 
 I told Jennie I would bring you in. ' ' 
 
 Alfred followed him and stood in a moment by Jen- 
 nie's bed. Her eyes met his with a smile, and he saw 
 with thankfulness that her face was not burned. 
 
 "I would thank you for saving me," she said, 
 laughing, "only I'm not sure which of you did it. 
 Cynthia and I have decided to be equally grateful to 
 
378 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 you both. ' ' Then she added very seriously, * ' We realize 
 what you both did, the risk you ran. There are some 
 things in life which can never be repaid. "We can only 
 leave them as they are. Perhaps you can guess how 
 we feel about them." 
 
 "Perhaps I can," Alfred returned, with the light 
 of recollection in his eyes. ' ' In my most helpless hour 
 you came to my assistance. So I am glad to have been 
 near to help you in yours." 
 
 ''Stewart," Stanley said, coming up, ''I want you 
 to meet, Miss Langdon." 
 
 Alfred found himself looking again into the clear 
 blue eyes which met his own with frank simplicity. 
 
 ''Hazel,'* Stanley went on, "Mr. Stewart is a 
 preacher, yet he and I are friends." 
 
 "How did it ever happen?" she questioned. "Mr. 
 Stewart, you must be a remarkable man. I never 
 could get Stanley within speaking distance of a 
 preacher." 
 
 "Well, you see," Alfred returned, "I got in under 
 false pretenses. He thought I was a tramp. He didn't 
 know I was a preacher until it was too late." 
 
 "Oh," she laughed, "that was the way. What de- 
 nomination are you of, Mr. Stewart?" 
 
 "I'm a representative of the Reorganized Latter Day 
 Saint Church," he answered, and watched her face 
 closely for evidence of the shadow usually produced 
 by those words. 
 
 "Indeed!" she exclaimed, and her face gladdened 
 perceptibly. 
 
THE CIRCLE WIDENS 379 
 
 **I have been among those people/' she said 
 turning to Stanley. "My last two cases were among 
 the Latter Day Saints." 
 
 When Alfred had been presented to Cynthia and 
 Henry Parsons, he left them with a message of cheer 
 for Cynthia's mother. He found her in the care of 
 friends, frantic with anxiety, and as he delivered his 
 message he was very grateful to be the bearer of glad 
 tidings. 
 
 ** Doctor Lakeman wished me to say that you may 
 visit your daughter to-morrow, between the hours of 
 ten and eleven," he told her in leaving. 
 
 For the remainder of the day she was cheered by 
 that promise and took up her duties again with a light 
 heart. Often she murmured: ''The Lord be praised 
 for his loving watchcare and his tender mercies." 
 
 Bill Lakeman had seen Alfred coming and awaited 
 him at the gate. He had heard only the rumors which 
 ran rife through the town and these were not re- 
 assuring. 
 
 "All right," Alfred called, seeing the concern on 
 the old man's face. "Everything is all right." 
 
 "Thank God, boy," the old man muttered, grasping 
 the hand that was free from bandages, and wringing 
 it earnestly. "Thank God. I guess he does rule after 
 all." 
 
 "Yes, he rules," Alfred said, "even if we don't al- 
 ways realize it." 
 
 "What would we have done without Jennie?" the 
 old man went on. "I'll tell you, boy, if you hadn't 
 gone up that ladder, I would have gone myself. I 
 
880 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 prayed then. I'll tell you that was one time old Bill 
 Lakeman prayed.'' 
 
 ''Well, I'm thankful, Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said; 
 **I am certainly thankful that all is as well as it is. 
 Just one life lost. If only that could have been saved." 
 
 ''Too bad, too bad," the old man muttered. 
 
 The hospital was besieged with visitors. Hazel Lang- 
 don met them without the door and bore a cheering 
 message to each. It was not until Squire Parsons and 
 Marion Burnside came that she allowed anyone to 
 enter. 
 
 Marion Burnside looked old, very old, as he stood 
 by Jennie's bed and gazed down at her. When she 
 realized the lines of care furrowing his face, a great 
 wave of pity filled her heart for the man whose nar- 
 rowness and blindness had not allowed him to see his 
 obligation toward the lives in his charge. 
 
 "If you had obeyed me, Jennie," were his words 
 of greeting, "you would not be here to-day." 
 
 "I know, father," she answered kindly; "also if I 
 had obeyed you, many girls instead of one in your 
 employ would have lost their lives. I have learned, 
 father, that it does not pay to obey a command that is 
 in itself wrong." 
 
 Marion Burnside made no reply. The words of his 
 daughter had deepened the sting which the averted 
 eyes of his friends and neighbors had inflicted. Even 
 the boys on the streets had hooted at him in derision, 
 and he who had been esteemed as the second citizen 
 of Leesburg suddenly found himself an outcast. Why 
 had he not provided fire escapes, or at least an extra 
 
THE CIRCLE WIDENS 381 
 
 stairway? That question to which he could find no 
 answer he could not banish from his mind. Through 
 a long, sleepless night it stalked by his bed and 
 screamed itself in the wind that whistled around his 
 mansion. In one day he had seen the work of his life 
 tumbled about his head. 
 
 He knew the mortgagees would step in and take 
 over the property which he had hoped to save. And 
 always in the minds of those who had esteemed him, 
 he would be branded as criminally negligent. 
 
 So it was that for each hour that had passed, a year 
 piled itself on his head — and this morning Marion 
 Burnside was old — the proud arrogance of his nature 
 crushed by the weight of accumulated events of his 
 own making. 
 
 "Father!" All this was expressed in the world of 
 sympathy which accompanied the word. Jennie reached 
 out a bandaged hand and slipped it into his own. 
 ''We'll start all over again." 
 
 Then it was that Marion Burnside broke down, and 
 the first real tears of his mature life were shed. 
 
 Meanwhile Squire Parsons had spent some awkward 
 moments in the presence of his son. Beyond the 
 words, ''How are you?" he seemed unable to go. 
 When the situation became unbearable, he succeeded 
 is asking the question uppermost in his mind: 
 
 "Shall I have you moved home, Henry?" 
 
 "No, father," he answered not unkindly. "I think 
 I had better remain here the few days that are neces- 
 sary. ' ' 
 
 Another pause. 
 
382 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 '' Henry. '^ 
 
 ''Yes, father/^ 
 
 ''When you are out, come and see me.'' 
 
 A refusal formed itself on the young man's 
 but suddenly a picture came before him. He closed 
 his eyes for a moment and saw the rays of the sun 
 stealing between the leaves of a tree and sending its 
 patches of light dancing around the chiseled form of 
 a woman. 
 
 "I will, father," he said. 
 
 Cynthia's mother was overjoyed when she found 
 that in a few days, as soon as the wounds were healed, 
 Cynthia would be with her again as well as ever. 
 When Cynthia voiced her fear for the future, she met 
 the cheerful response : ' ' The Lord has always provided, 
 child; he always will." 
 
 So the unquestioning faith of the mother was trans- 
 ferred to the daughter, and the load of dread was 
 lifted. 
 
 Henry Parsons had been assigned to the room ad- 
 joining that occupied by the girls, and Hazel Langdon 
 found herself busy spreading cheer from room to room. 
 Before the end of the second day she had completely 
 won the confidence of Henry Parsons as she had pre- 
 viously won that of the girls. As she sat by his bed 
 he told her of his plans and aspirations and did not 
 know that in doing so he won a valuable ally, for she 
 was already planning ways and means. 
 
 "I think you are right," she said, "in promising 
 to see your father. But in getting through school it 
 is best for you to stand on your own feet as much as 
 
THE CIRCLE WIDENS 383 
 
 possible. Your life work will be more valuable as a 
 result. You can make it nicely/' she assured him. 
 
 He had kept nothing back. With perfect simplicity- 
 he had told her of his love for Cynthia and his hopes 
 for their future. 
 
 ''Mr. Parsons," Hazel said, ''why don't you take 
 her with you?" 
 
 "Take Cynthia to school?" he questioned. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "take the course together. She 
 would be splendid in that line, and you could work 
 together. "Women are needed in those professions." 
 
 He pondered the question seriously. 
 
 "If we only could," he said. "Cynthia might not 
 like the plan. Besides, you know, Cynthia has never 
 promised to marry me yet." 
 
 "You leave that to me," Hazel laughed. "I mean 
 the part about the course. You'll have to attend per- 
 sonally to the more important matter. I can promise 
 that when the time comes she will be glad to enter 
 school." 
 
 Alfred Stewart, at Stanley 's request, spent much time 
 in the hospital. 
 
 "I want you," Stanley had said, "to get a chance 
 to tell Hazel the things you have been telling us these 
 evenings." And Alfred found willing ears and a ques- 
 tioning mind. 
 
 "Wait a minute," she said as they were talking; 
 "I want them all to hear this." 
 
 So three reclining chairs were arranged, three 
 bandaged individuals were made comfortable, and Al- 
 fred faced the strangest audience of his life. Yet as 
 
884 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 he told the story, the influence of the Spirit of God 
 rested on him and added weight to the message. 
 Cynthia and Hazel bombarded him with questions, 
 while Henry Parsons listened as one who hears a new 
 thing. 
 
 When a week had passed in this manner, they real- 
 ized that, wounds healed, the time of separation was 
 at hand. Then it came that Cynthia went to Henry 
 Parsons with a question in her eyes. 
 
 "What will we do about it, Henry?" she asked. 
 
 He studied carefully the trees on the hillside. 
 
 ''I'm afraid I'd make an awfully poor Christian, 
 Cynthia," he answered her. 
 
 ''But, Henry, the Lord would help you. He's prom- 
 ised that." 
 
 "I'm afraid, Cynthia, I'd be a discredit to the 
 church." 
 
 "But, Henry," Cynthia urged, "considering all that 
 Christ has done, don't we owe him at least obedience? 
 Isn't it all we can do? Perhaps we might make others 
 see as well." 
 
 When he did not answer Cynthia looked at him 
 pleadingly and was surprised to see a mist of tears in 
 his eyes and she knew that his battle was won. 
 
 "I really want to be a Christian," he said. "I've 
 always wanted to. Yes, Cynthia, I'll try. If you want 
 to be baptized, I'll try it, too. Perhaps that's what I 
 need, Christ's help." 
 
 And Cynthia slipped away in search of Alfred Stew- 
 art. She found him busy in conversation with Jennie 
 and Hazel Langdon. So the message she bore must 
 
THE CIRCLE WIDENS 385 
 
 wait its opportunity. As she drew near she heard 
 Hazel say: ''I was very much interested in your peo- 
 ple down there. I found them to be an earnest, con- 
 scientious people, thorough Christians — so different 
 from what I had expected. What I liked most was the 
 love they had for each other. Do you remember the 
 dreadful floods down there this spring?" she went on. 
 ''You read of them, I suppose. Well, they were ter- 
 rible. One would have to see them to understand. 
 Homes down on the levee where the poorer classes lived 
 were swept away. Numbers of people lost theiir lives. 
 There was among the membership of your church, liv- 
 ing right in the heart of the devastated district, a 
 colored family. I had met them through others of the 
 church members and was very much interested in 
 them. They made the mistake so many others made, 
 of remaining too long in their home, trusting to the 
 waters to recede. They all lost their lives but one boy." 
 
 ''I read it," Alfred said. 
 
 ''It was a sad affair," Hazel went on; "the influence 
 of it stays with me yet. Some of the members of the 
 church had begged them to come to their homes when 
 the water began to rise. But you know nobody 
 thought it would be so b^d, and Mrs. Turner was sick. 
 They thought it best not to move her. The same thing 
 had happened so often and they merely moved up- 
 stairs until it was over. They thought it would be 
 the same again. That morning when the levee broke 
 and the current came out through that part of the 
 town, the full danger was seen. Mr. Turner took the 
 boy and swam to shore with him. There were not 
 
386 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 nearly enough boats to get the people out of their 
 homes, and the church people were working hard try- 
 ing to make a raft to reach the Turners. I stood there 
 with them, watching and hoping they would be in 
 time, when Mr. Turner reached us with the boy. It 
 had been a long, hard swim and they begged him to 
 wait and return for the others with the raft, but he 
 shook his head and said, 'No, brothers, she's out 
 there alone.' 
 
 *'I never realized that the negro people were so 
 human as I did at that moment. I think he knew 
 it was the end, for he gathered the boy in his arms 
 for a moment, then unfastened a locket which had 
 been concealed around his own neck and put it on 
 the boy. We all shed tears and were not ashamed of 
 them. He swam back to the house, but before he 
 could get out with another child, the house and all 
 were swept away.'' 
 
 ** Hazel," Jennie asked breathlessly, "did you see 
 that locket? What was on it?" 
 
 **Why, yes," Hazel answered. ''It bore the boy's 
 name. He was named for his father, Sam Turner." 
 
 Jennie was all excitement. "Where is he now? 
 Could we find him?" 
 
 "Some of his church people were giving him a 
 home when I left," Hazel answered, not a little puz- 
 zled. "I suppose he's with them yet." 
 
 "We must send for him," Jennie announced. "We 
 must send for him at once before we lose him." 
 
 Then she told them the story as Aunt Maria had 
 told it to her. 
 
THE CIRCLE WIDENS 387 
 
 ''We must have him here," she ended. ''It will be 
 an answer to her lifelong prayer." 
 
 So it happened that Hazel sent the message which 
 added young Sam Turner to the Burnside household 
 and brought the gladness which brightened the closing 
 days of old Aunt Maria's life. For young Sam Turner 
 with his eyes and ready smile won h,is way into 
 the regard of the people and did no little part in the 
 work accomplished there in the years which followed. 
 Aunt Maria, when she saw him, needed no locket of 
 identification. 
 
 "Law, chile," she said to Jennie, 'don' I know dat 
 face? Ain't he jes like my Sam?" 
 
 When he sang to her, the songs taught him by his 
 father, the old songs she loved and around which the 
 memories clung, in the full rich voice which had come 
 down to him from the generations of the past, the old 
 lady's joy knew no bounds. To her 'twas the years 
 rolled back and a restoration of her own. She listened 
 to the gospel story as he told it in his quaint way, 
 uncomprehendingly but believingly, and so came the 
 peace with the evening which never lifted till the 
 shadows fell. 
 
 But we are digressing. Cynthia did not find oppor- 
 tunity to deliver her message until Alfred was leaving 
 that evening. He found opportunity for a few mo- 
 ments of quiet conversation with Henry Parsons be- 
 fore he left, and when he was once more outside be- 
 neath the great canopy of heaven, he lifted a heart 
 overflowing with gladness to God in a prayer of 
 
388 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 thanksgiving for those souls which had been given him, 
 and he did not forget those who did not yet see that 
 the way lay through the slough of obedience. 
 
CHAPTER 33 
 JENNIE HESITATES 
 
 WFIEN the girls were alone for the night, Cynthia 
 told Jennie that she and Henry had requested 
 baptism and expected to join the church as 
 soon as they were able to enter the water. 
 
 "Why, Cynthia!" Jennie exclaimed, ''you've been 
 baptized once!" 
 
 ''I know, Jennie," Cynthia said. ''I've thought that 
 all out; I'm going to be baptized again." 
 
 "I can't see why you should," Jennie persisted. 
 
 "Listen, Jennie," her friend returned. "You know 
 as well as I that the church we were baptized in teaches 
 only a smattering of the truth, and a lot of the things 
 they teach are not and never were found in the Bible. 
 
 "They are not to blame, Jennie; I'm not criticizing 
 them. The trouble is, they are not the custodians of 
 the gospel which John saw the angel bring. They 
 have as much truth as man can figure out, but Jennie, 
 man can't figure out the truth of God completely. I 
 lay awake all the other night and thought this matter 
 over. Even if man could figure out God's truth from 
 the Bible, that wouldn't give him the right to act for 
 God unless God. told him to. The trouble with the 
 Christian churches is that they think God suddenly 
 went dumb. They believe in him all right, but they 
 believe in him as a God of power in the past. Accord- 
 
390 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ing to appearances they seem to think some myste- 
 rious agent has shorn him of his power in our own day. 
 If they had believed in a living, acting God of the 
 present, a God who never changes, he would have re- 
 vealed to them the things they failed to understand in 
 his law. Then they would not have divided up into 
 so many kinds of Christian churches. We could all 
 do as Paul instructed the Christians to do in his day, 
 'Speak the same thing.* 
 
 ''The majority of the Christians,'* Cynthia went on, 
 "don *t want God to speak now. They want him to keep 
 silent and speak to them only from the past, when we 
 should be praying for him to tell us where the trouble 
 lies — to tell us how we can be united again. 
 
 "Yes, Jennie, I'm glad, more than glad, to be able 
 to obey the gospel of Christ restored. I'm glad I 
 lived to see this day." 
 
 Jennie made no answer. She felt dazed, depressed. 
 She had received the message gladly but with no 
 thought of obeying it, and she had not known that in 
 her heart pride held sway. She had not realized that, 
 in her mind, fine church buildings and all that went with 
 them had formed such a necessary part of her religion. 
 
 "True, these had given her no satisfaction of spirit, 
 yet, now that she had found that satisfaction, she had 
 thought to carry it with her in the religious paths she 
 had already walked. So with Cynthia's words came 
 the battle. She knew that Cynthia had spoken the 
 truth, yet her being revolted at the thought of being 
 identified with a religion at once obscure and unpopular. 
 
 Hazel Langdon came in and turned out the lights, 
 
JENNIE HESITATES 891 
 
 but for Jennie there was no sleep. Her mind, keenly- 
 alert, attacked the question from all sides, yet she 
 could not bring herself to consent to take the path 
 chosen by Cynthia. 
 
 "Why isn't my church just as good?'' she questioned, 
 and always Cynthia's words rang in her ears in answer: 
 ''They are not the custodians of that gospel which 
 John saw the angel bring. ' ' 
 
 As the hours rolled away she arose from her bed, 
 found her way to the window, and looked out upon 
 the beauties of a moonlit night. The world was quiet, 
 while on high the great round moon rode in majesty 
 and serenity. She started to pray, yet from somewhere 
 within the inmost recesses of her mind came a warning 
 that if she prayed over this matter the Lord would 
 lead her where she desired not to go. The prayer on 
 her lips was checked. Yet the answer came in a gen- 
 tle, saddened voice, whispering itself from the ages 
 of the past : "If any man will come after me, let him 
 deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." 
 
 Then the prayer did come, borne on a flood of tears 
 from the depths of her heart: "0 Lord," she whis- 
 pered, "help me to know what to do. Help me to see 
 the way." 
 
 Suddenly she was standing, not by the hospital 
 window, but at the head of a brilliantly lighted street. 
 As far as the eye could see magnificent temples, cathe- 
 drals, and churches lifted their spires to heaven and 
 sent out their calls to man: "Come and worship." 
 Jennie looked from one to the other in confusion. 
 
392 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''Which shall I enter?" she questioned. "In which 
 shall I worship?" 
 
 She became aware for the first time that she was not 
 alone. Turning she beheld by her side a radiant 
 creature clothed in a garment of unspeakable white- 
 ness. He stood as it seemed in the center of a light 
 which made a shadow of the light surrounding 
 them. She gazed at him in wonder and tried 
 in her mind to find words with which to describe 
 the wonderful beauty of her companion. The hair 
 fell back in shimmering brilliance from a face perfect 
 in feature and kindliness of expression. The bare 
 feet visible below the folds of a snowy garment gleamed 
 like crystal gold. There were no words with which 
 to describe the being. The words, of the prophet came 
 to her as she contemplated the feet which barely 
 touched the earth on which he stood. ''And his feet 
 like unto fine brass as if they burned in a furnace." 
 
 She knew now why the prophet had used them. 
 Those words came nearer expressing the wonderful 
 beauty she beheld than any she could find. She became 
 aware that he awaited her question. 
 
 "Which shall I enter?" she asked again. 
 
 "Come," he said, and his voice reminded her of dis- 
 tant music. 
 
 As they passed before the most magnificent of the 
 buildings she had contemplated, attracted by the beauty 
 of the place she felt again a keen desire to enter. 
 
 "May we not go here?" she questioned. 
 
 The face of the angel saddened. 
 
JENNIE HESITATES 893 
 
 ''They have broken the laws, changed the ordinance, 
 and broken the everlasting covenant." 
 
 She followed in silence, but as they passed again a 
 beautiful structure from whose decorated windows the 
 picture of the Son of God looked, she questioned 
 again timidly: "Here is Christ's picture. Shall we 
 not go here?" 
 
 Again as with distant music came the answer : ' ' This 
 people draw near unto me with their mouths and with 
 their lips do honor me, but have removed their hearts 
 far from me and their fear toward me is taught by the 
 precepts of men." 
 
 Not daring to question again, Jennie saw with a 
 sinking heart that they were leaving behind the beauti- 
 ful buildings she had so much wanted to enter and had 
 come to the district of the unpretentious, plain, and in 
 some cases, disreputable churches. 
 
 ''Oh, must I enter one of these?" she questioned of 
 herself. 
 
 Suddenly from a small building at the end of the 
 street, there came to her, wafted on the breezes, the 
 voice of singing and she saw the angel smile. 
 
 A3 they drew nearer, the words of the song dis- 
 tinguished themselves and the warming influence of the 
 Spirit of God settled over her, burning them into her 
 memory : 
 
 Organize my church and kingdom, 
 Not in order man approved, 
 But in that revealed through Jesus, 
 Your Redeemer whom ye love. 
 
394 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 She looked at the angel with a question in her mind 
 which she dared not ask. 
 
 *'I have chosen the weak things of the world/* he 
 answered, "to confound the mighty/* 
 
 She found herself alone, standing tremblingly before 
 the door of the building, afraid to enter. The songs 
 with their wonderful appeal still came to her from 
 within and her being thrilled with a sincere desire to 
 join the singers. 
 
 As she hesitated and pondered she suddenly became 
 aware that the door was held ajar and she heard a 
 familiar voice saying: **In the name of Jesus Christ 
 I bid you enter.'* 
 
 She raised a surprised face from the window and 
 looked out once more on the moonlit night. Her being 
 still thrilled with the sweet influence which had come 
 to her with the vision. Her pride was gone. She felt 
 only a deep yearning to follow in the footsteps of 
 the Son of God. What though the way be obscure? 
 What though reproach attend? Surely if Christ him- 
 self could walk the way, man should not complain. 
 
 The thoughts of her heart formed themselves on her 
 lips and she sang the most sincere prayer of her lifeic 
 
 Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, 
 
 Lead thou me on; 
 The night is dark and I am far from home, 
 
 Lead thou me on. 
 Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see 
 The distant scene; one step enough for me. 
 
JENNIE HESITATES 895 
 
 I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou 
 
 Shouldst lead me on; 
 I loved to choose and see my path; but now 
 
 Lead thou me on. 
 I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, 
 Pride ruled my will: remember not past years. 
 
 So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still 
 
 Will lead me on 
 O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till 
 
 The night is gone, 
 And with the morn those angel faces smile. 
 Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. 
 
CHAPTER 34 
 ALL LOST BUT JENNIE'S SAVINGS 
 
 JENNIE," Marion Burnside said the day following 
 that in which Jennie returned from the hospital, 
 "do you feel strong enough to talk over our pros- 
 pects? The conversation may not be altogether pleas- 
 ant." 
 
 **I feel perfectly strong, father," Jennie returned. 
 '*I know there must be a number of things which need 
 attention. Also I fancy we must practice the strictest 
 economy until you can rebuild the factory and get 
 it going again. Fortunately the weaving rooms did 
 not burn. We have that much to be thankful for." 
 
 Marion Burnside choked. He was finding it even 
 more difficult than he had anticipated. Jennie looked 
 at her father kindly. Since he had visited her in the 
 hospital and she had in a measure shared his, burden 
 with him, a new bond of sympathy seemed to exist be- 
 tween them, and she felt that she would make any 
 sacrifice for him. 
 
 *'How much insurance did you carry, father?" she 
 asked. ' ' Enough to help materially in the rebuilding ? ' ' 
 
 "I can never rebuild, Jennie," he said in that utterly 
 hopeless tone she had never heard him use before. 
 ''That fire, coming when it did, has effectually ruined 
 me financially. I have never told you, but the plant, as 
 well as this house, was mortgaged. Those mortgages 
 
ALL LOST BUT JENNIE'S SAVINGS 397 
 
 are due, or practically so. I had plans almost completed 
 whereby I could have remortgaged and, with the help 
 of the added time, redeemed them. Now it is impos- 
 sible; everything will have to go." 
 
 Jennie was for a moment utterly dazed by the in- 
 formation. When she spoke her voice sounded unnat- 
 ural in her own ears. 
 
 ''This house!" she exclaimed. ''Must this house go, 
 too?" 
 
 She hardly knew why she asked it. Yet as she com- 
 prehended his words she realized what her surround- 
 ings of luxury had come to mean to her. She had never 
 been happy in this house, had realized in a vague way 
 its lack of something essential; yet regardless of all 
 this, its cold beauty was a part of her life, and she 
 knew she would miss it. 
 
 "Yes," he answered. "I'm sorry, but it will go 
 also." 
 
 ' ' Where will we live ? ' ' she questioned. 
 
 ' ' I don 't know, ' ' he replied wearily. ' ' Wherever we 
 can. ' ' 
 
 Jennie understood now the broken spirit of her 
 father; knew why he had grown so old in the short 
 time she had been away. This man, to whose proud 
 spirit success had meant much, must confess that he 
 had failed. It was not alone the loss of the money or 
 its represented value in property. The old Marion 
 Burnside could have replaced these. But the proud 
 spirit which must acknowledge defeat has no strength 
 left with which to fight. Not reinforced by the pride 
 which has been its stay, it has no inherent strength of 
 
/ 
 / 
 
 398 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 its own, and lies limp and broken. So it had been with 
 Marion Burnside, and he cringed in fear before a 
 future in which he could see no hope. Understanding 
 this, Jennie longed the more to help him, longed to be 
 the strength on which he might rely in his hour of 
 weakness. 
 
 "' Is there no way, father ?" she asked. 
 
 ''None whatever," he said. ''The insurance papers 
 are made out in favor of the one holding the mortgage. 
 The outstanding accounts will consume the cash on 
 hand. No, there is no way. I ho^ they will foreclose 
 at once; the sooner it is over and everybody knows, 
 the better." 
 
 Unable to talk with her longer, he arose and started 
 for the door. 
 
 "I'm sorry, Jennie," he said with his hand on the 
 knob. "I would have spared you all this if I could." 
 
 "Why, father," Jennie said, "for myself I don't care. 
 I know I'll get through somehow. But I'm sorry on 
 your account, very sorry. ' ' 
 
 His head dropped lower, but he made no answer. 
 
 Jennie tried to adjust herself to the changed condi- 
 tions. After a time she arose and made her way slowly 
 up the stairs. She found the trunk and took from it the 
 long-forgotten box. She could not have explained her 
 movements nor feelings. She followed her instincts 
 rather than her mind, and these prompted her to seek 
 counsel from others. Above all things else she felt that 
 she must talk to Bill Lakeman. She knew that in the 
 old man's heart was a store of sympathy which never 
 diminished although given so freely. She felt that she 
 
ALL LOST BUT JENNIE'S SAVINGS 399 
 
 must do something and that he could help her to know 
 what to do. Once more in her own little parlor, she 
 rang for Tom. 
 
 ''Bring the carriage for me," she instructed. "I 
 want to drive out awhile. ' ' 
 
 As he looked at her questioningly she realized his 
 solicitude. 
 
 ''I'm quite strong, Tom," she reassured him. "It 
 won 't hurt me in the least. ' ' 
 
 She placed the box in the carriage, marveling at its 
 weight. 
 
 *'I did not know I was so weak," she thought. 
 
 She found the old man in the meadow not far from 
 the roadway. He did not see her, for at that particular 
 moment a great red and black butterfly swung on the 
 head of a flower near him, then rose majestically and 
 flew away with easy sweeps of its large velvety wings. 
 Jennie hailed him and the old man looked up in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "I didn't know you were allowed to be out," he said 
 by way of question. 
 
 "I probably am not allowed, but I'm out just the 
 same," Jermie laughed. "And I came to see you, too." 
 
 " To see me ! " he exclaimed. ' ' Well, now, that 's what 
 I call nice. If it had been Stewart now, or even Stan- 
 ley, I shouldn't be surprised. But an old man like Bill 
 Lakeman ! " he ended, laughing heartily at her blushes. 
 
 "Now what can I do for you?" he asked in his usual 
 kindly voice. 
 
 *'You can lend me your wisdom, Mr. Lakeman," she 
 
400 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 said, '*and although I can never repay the loan, yet 
 I am anxious to borrow." 
 
 Then she told him why she had come. Told him of 
 her father's financial downfall and of her desires to 
 help. 
 
 ''There's not much I can do," she ended, "but I 
 brought over all my own money. I don't know how 
 much there is but I thought we could figure out some 
 way." 
 
 Bill Lakeman tied the horse and removed the box she 
 designated to a shady spot beneath an old oak tree 
 near. Together they counted the money. 
 
 ''I had no idea there was so much," Jennie said 
 as they finished. ''You're not bad off at all, my girl," 
 Bill Lakeman said. "The money you've saved will be 
 a big help to you now. I know what I would do. I'd 
 buy a small place so I would always be sure of a 
 home." 
 
 "I had no idea I could do anything like that," she 
 sa^d, still unable to comprehend what her thoughtless 
 saving had accomplished. "I began putting money in 
 that box — oh, I can't remember how long ago. But I 
 can't realize it could be that much." 
 
 "Now there's your mother's home place," the old 
 man went on after a moment's thought. "You could 
 buy that. It lies right there next to mine, and a living 
 can always be made on it. That would be better than 
 a place down town." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Lakeman!" she exclaimed. "If I only 
 could! I've always loved that place. Mother always 
 wanted to keep it while she was living, but father 
 
ALL LOST BUT JENNIE'S SAVINGS 401 
 
 wanted a bigger home. If I could only buy it again I 
 think I would be happy. " 
 
 ''Well, it's for sale," he said, "and you have money 
 enough to buy it." 
 
 ''Won't you help me make the purchase?" she 
 begged. "Could we go over now?" 
 
 Jennie was in ecstasy over the prospect before her. 
 She breathed deeply of the fragrance of the maples as 
 they passed between them on the way to the house, and 
 her eyes wandered out to the old tree where the big 
 rope swing had hung which had been the delight of 
 her childhood visits to the old farm. She knew just 
 where her grandmother had sat in the days gone by, 
 with her knitting, by the low east window overlooking 
 the fields and meadows, and her eyes filled with tears 
 as the memories of the past swept over her. 
 
 "Oh, I don't understand how father could ever have 
 sold it," she said. 
 
 "He couldn't if he had ever lived here," Bill Lake- 
 man answered. "Few people can understand that the 
 value of the land and buildings is the least of the value 
 of an old home. Money can buy, replace, and improve 
 these, but the memories and associations that come with 
 the passing of time can never. be replaced or duplicated. 
 Their value swallows up and overshadows all others. 
 That's why I would like to see you take this old place. 
 The price is reasonable and the land good. I would 
 have bought it for Stanley, but his work does not re- 
 quire this kind of home. Some one will buy it ; I think 
 you should have the first chance. It was your mother's 
 girlhood home." 
 
402 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 The purchase was made, and although there was 
 little money left, Jennie was too happy to thiiuk of that. 
 With the sense of once more having a home, security of 
 feeling came to her and she had no fear for the future. 
 
 ''All my own — my very own," she murmured as they 
 drove away. Then aloud to Bill Lakeman: ''I wish 
 mother could have been here to-day. How happy she 
 would be.'* 
 
 ''Yes, child," he said thoughtfully, "in more ways 
 than one." 
 
 And Jennie knew that the old man's thoughts were 
 not with houses and lands, but rather that he spoke 
 of the richer treasure he had lately found. 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman," she said, "indirectly mother has 
 helped us all. I at least would never have heard, had 
 I not gone to him with questions of her." 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I have thought of it. It looks like 
 the Lord might have cared for us all enough to have 
 planned things for us. I guess he must have known we 
 wanted to believe in him." 
 
 "Are you going to be baptized, Mr. Lakeman?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes," he answered. "It isn't much the Lord has 
 asked us to do. I am certainly willing to do that 
 much. ' ' 
 
 "I feel the same way," she said. "I did feel differ- 
 ently at first, but I'm ashamed of my pride now. I've 
 found out that it means something to be able to say, 
 'I'm not ashamed of the gospel of Christ.' " 
 
 Then she told him of the vision granted her as she 
 
ALL LOST BUT JENNIE'S SAVINGS 408 
 
 pondered the question while in the hospital. Bill Lake- 
 man nodded. 
 
 ''Now that's more like it," he said. ''The Lord al- 
 ways did work that way. That's one thing that made 
 an infidel of me. The Bible said that God never 
 changed, yet I could see that he was not working with 
 man as he had done in the past. And I have jumped 
 at the conclusion that the whole thing was a hoax and 
 that he never did do it. Now you asked the Lord for 
 light that you needed ; he answered your prayer and 
 gave you light. That is the God I like to worship, 
 the God who isn't deaf and dumb. 
 
 "Yes, Jennie," Ls went on, "we may lose our prop- 
 erty, but we have gained that which is of far greater 
 value and the world can never take it away. ' ' 
 
 A silence fell upon them, a silence which carried 
 with it a depth of feeling unknown to them not many 
 weeks before. 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman," Jennie said, breaking the silence, 
 "I have a foolish whim." 
 
 He looked at her questioningly. 
 
 "I want to be baptized in the evening — just about 
 the hour we have always studied. That's the time in 
 the day when we learned to know God. That is the 
 time I would like to obey him." 
 "I can second the wish myself," the old man said. 
 ' ' The message came to us as a call at evening. What 
 more appropriate than that the evening bear our an- 
 swer? Yes, I'd like it myself and I'll mention it to 
 Stewart." 
 
 Jennie held out her hand, and as Bill Lakeman 
 
404 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 took it she felt a bond between them which she had 
 never experienced before in life — a strange bond of 
 common purpose and a relationship closer than the ties 
 of blood. The old man felt it, too, and murmured, 
 ''Blest be the tie that binds." 
 
 And each understood the words as only those who 
 have experienced the tie can understand. 
 
 That evening she watched anxiously her father ^s 
 return. When she saw him coming, stoop-shouldered 
 and slow, she went to meet him. He took her arm 
 with the first show of affection she cduld remember. 
 
 ''Is all finished?" she asked. 
 
 "All ready to be turned over," he said with a deep 
 sigh. 
 
 "I've picked out a home for us, father," Jennie went 
 on, her face beaming until the man could not but 
 catch something of her hopefulness. 
 
 "Where?" he asked. 
 
 "The little farm over by Lakeman's in the edge of 
 town; mother's home place. How would you like 
 that?" 
 
 "That place has been in my mind all day, Jennie," 
 he said. "That's where I married your mother. But 
 it's no use Jennie; I couldn't even pay the rent on it 
 unless we sold household furniture to do it." 
 
 "But, father, you don't understand," Jennie laughed. 
 "I've bought it." 
 
 He stopped in the walk and looked down at her. 
 
 "Oh, I know you don't believe it," she went on. 
 "But I did. Paid for it, too. I've always kept some 
 
ALL LOST BUT JENNIE'S SAVINGS 405 
 
 of the money you have given me, and when we counted 
 it there was enough to buy the place." 
 
 **How could you save that much," he questioned, 
 ''and I not know it? Surely, Jennie " 
 
 ' ' In my trunk, ' ' she laughed, waving aside his fears. 
 ''I've kept it in my trunk." 
 
 It was significant of the change in the man that he 
 did not scold her. 
 
CHAPTER 35 
 THE WAYS OF MAN 
 
 WHEN the great N. S. and T. railroad line pushed 
 its way through from the East and reached 
 its mighty arm into the undeveloped and 
 unknown West, it intersected the C. and U. C. in the 
 city of Usk. 
 
 The two lines being on friendly terms, in fact it 
 was rumored that the same great head directed both, 
 a big union depot, the pride and boast of the country- 
 side, was erected. Nor was that all; great machine 
 shops, mysterious roundhouses, and magnificent office 
 buildings made their appearance ; and^ Usk was no 
 longer the country village of other years, but a metropo- 
 lis, the headquarters of the western division. 
 
 Country ways and country manners fell away and 
 city noise and culture took their place. Keen minds 
 which had long lain dormant under the quiet monotony 
 of the peaceful village awoke to the situation and for- 
 tunes were made rapidly. It may be said that in 
 their making and the superficial boom which accom- 
 panied them, fortunes were also lost, but that fact 
 was not spoken of in Usk. That city chose rather to 
 point to those that had been made as an inducement 
 for others to venture, and forgot, seemingly, the other, 
 darker side. 
 
 Among those whose fortunes had outgrown the needs 
 
THE WAYS OF MAN 407 
 
 of their possessors and must of necessity reach out for 
 other lines of activity and investment, old John Albee, 
 president of the Albee Bank of Usk, found himself in 
 the lead. His fame as a financier spread through the 
 surrounding country and somehow blinded those who 
 should have seen, to the fact that a mortgage once 
 drawn in favor of John Albee was almost invariably 
 followed by a change of ownership. One by one these 
 were gathered in from the men to whom they were of 
 such vital need and added to the already overgrown 
 fortune of the man who did not need them. It was 
 to this man that Marion Burnside had gone in his 
 hour of fancied financial need, and it was at this man's 
 suggestions that he and Squire Parsons had made cer- 
 tain speculative ventures which had proven so dis- 
 astrous, for which cause they wavered on the verge of 
 financial ruin. 
 
 Such a condition was not unexpected to John Albee. 
 In fact an examination of the papers in his vault 
 would have disclosed inventories of the holdings of 
 both that were almost as complete as could have been 
 furnished by themselves. 
 
 Yet so strange is this world and its happenings, that, 
 at the very hour of the fire which threw the long- 
 coveted properties of Marion Burnside into his hands, 
 physicians stepped back from his bedside and with 
 solemn faces said, '*It is over.'' 
 
 John Albee had not died without a will, and for the 
 want of some place to put the wealth he had been 
 so busy gaining and regaining, it was scattered and 
 
408 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 many charitable organizations were enriched by his 
 going. One individual alone was mentioned in the will. 
 A nephew, also named John Albee, forgotten and 
 neglected during life, was made the legatee for all 
 property not otherwise appropriated. That did not 
 mean that the second John Albee would be as rich as 
 the first had been, for there was not much which had 
 not already been given. But it did happen that the 
 mortgage papers covering Marion Burnside^s property 
 as well as some others of less importance were among 
 those not already bestowed, and these under the word- 
 ing of the will passed into the hands of young John 
 Albee. 
 
 These were also the subject of discussion as John 
 Albee the second sat in the office of the attorney into 
 whose custody the will and the temporary handlings of 
 the estate had fallen. The old attorney was saying: 
 **Now that was a lucky fire for you — a mighty lucky 
 fire. Marion Burnside was trying to remortgage and 
 would have succeeded if that fire had not come. Given 
 a little time he would have paid off the mortgage. The 
 insurance, of course, was made out in favor of your 
 uncle. That cuts off his chances to rebuild and re- 
 mortgage from that source. So Marion Burnside lost. 
 Yes, sir," the older man laughed, "even a fire can be 
 lucky, and that was your lucky fire." 
 
 A shadow passed over the face of the young man. 
 
 ''Yes, lucky for me," he said, ''but what about 
 the man who lost it?" 
 
 The attori^iey looked at him in surprise. 
 
THE WAYS OF MAN 409 
 
 *'0h, well," he said, "we're not supposed to think 
 of the other fellow." 
 
 '*No, I suppose not." Young John Albee's voice bore 
 a peculiar quality. The other fell to studying his 
 face closely. 
 
 It was an intelligent face, he admitted that, and it 
 did not lack shrewdness. Yet it did lack something 
 he was accustomed to see"ng in his associates of the 
 world, something which puzzled him and set him grop- 
 ing in his mind for a definition of the thing which 
 eluded him. 
 
 ''How much is the property worth?" the young 
 man questioned. 
 
 ''Estimated $25,000; really much more." 
 
 "And what is the amount of the mortgage?" 
 
 "Ten thousand." 
 
 "In other words an unfortunate fire throws into 
 my hands $15,000 more than I would otherwise have 
 had." 
 
 The attorney nodded. 
 
 "And the other man loses that $15,000 as well as 
 the property which probably represented the work 
 of his lifetime." 
 
 "Well, yes, I suppose it amounts to that," the older 
 man admitted. 
 
 "It doesn't seem quite right, does it?" 
 
 "Why, man!" the other exclaimed. "It's what the 
 world considers a lucky stroke of business. It is from 
 such things that fortunes are made." 
 
 "Yes, I know," the young man replied quietly, "but 
 I somehow can't imagine Christ doing it." 
 
410 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 '*0h, religion!*' was the mental exclamation of the 
 man of the world. 
 
 *'Let me tell you, young man/' he said aloud, *'a 
 man can't take Christ very far into his business life. 
 That's all right for Sunday. I like to go to church my- 
 self on Sundays. But during the week it's a good 
 thing to forget. Religion is all right as a theory, but 
 it will never do to apply it." 
 
 ** When will the transfer of the property take place?" 
 the young man questioned again. 
 
 **I have already ordered a foreclosure," the admini- 
 strator answered. "I know it is what your uncle would 
 have done had he been handling the affair himself. 
 You can, of course, order any changes you like in the 
 managing of your estate." 
 
 **No," the other said, ''you did right. His property 
 is probably tied up until he couldn't even rebuild. So 
 it is best not to keep it inactive. I was thinking I 
 would run down to Leesburg and look things over, for 
 the sooner the plant is running again the better. You 
 had best look after the legal part of the work. When 
 all is ready I will go down and take possession. What- 
 ever other changes we wish to make can be made from 
 there later." 
 
 ''Good," the older man ejaculated. "I thought for 
 awhile you were going to make a poor successor to old 
 John Albee, but I guess you'll do. I'll have the trans- 
 fer all made. The insurance money will be deposited 
 in your name to-morrow. When the proper time comes 
 you take possession. I'll attend to the rest." 
 
THE WAYS OF MAN 411 
 
 "All right, Mr. Sherman." Young John Albee held 
 out his hand. '*If I need an attorney down there, 111 
 send for you.*' 
 
 ** Thank you, Mr. Albee," the old attorney responded 
 warmly. ''You will find me just as willing to serve 
 you as I have always been to serve your uncle before 
 you. Let me know when you need m.e.*' 
 
 * * Not a bad fellow. Not a bad fellow, ' ' he murmured 
 when he was alone. But as young John Albee descended 
 the stair he did that which old John Albee would never 
 have done, for as he walked he prayed: ''Help me, 
 Lord, to be a worthy steward." 
 
CHAPTER 36 
 THE WAY OF GOD 
 
 THE THOUGHT of that prayer was also under 
 discussion by Alfred Stewart and Bill Lakeman 
 as they stood once more under the great maple 
 overshadowing the rapids of Turkey Creek. They had 
 wandered far along the banks of the creek in search 
 of a suitable spot for the performance of the baptisms 
 to which they all looked forward. Unsatisfied they 
 had retraced their steps once more to this spot which 
 was at once the most beautiful and the most secluded 
 of any they had considered. Not that they tried to hide 
 their acts from the world, but the quiet hush of the 
 place gave them the feeling that in making their cove- 
 nant they were here alone with God. Bill Lakeman al- 
 ready knew that wherever the spot on earth at which 
 he followed the footsteps of Christ into the waters of 
 baptism, it would thereafter be holy ground to him; 
 and no spot save this which had for years been his 
 favorite retreat could satisfy his mind. Moreover, 
 directly under the peninsula at the foot of the rapids, 
 the action of the waters had gradually washed a hole 
 of the required depth, and here, after their struggles 
 with the rapids above, seemed to rest awhile ere they 
 stole quietly along on their journey to the lake. 
 
 "See, boy, that's the spot we want,'' Bill Lakeman 
 had said; ''after our struggle with doubt and un- 
 
THE WAY OF GOD 413 
 
 certainty we find rest in Christ. When I see those 
 waters resting there, I'll always know what it means.'* 
 
 So the decision had been made and they stood again 
 on the bed of soft mosses, while over them the great 
 tre€ spread her shade protectingly. The cooling fra- 
 grance of the forest and the happy song of the waters 
 came to them with its message of hope and life. Not 
 anxious to leave the spot he loved. Bill Lakeman 
 seated himself, and Alfred, who no longer needed 
 the assistance of the crutch, followed his example. 
 
 ''Mr. Lakeman," he said after a moment's quiet 
 thought, ''I don't want you to come into the church 
 until I feel that I have taught you at least as much 
 of the gospel as it is possible for me to teach you. 
 There are other things yet; there will always be. 
 Truth is as far-reaching as God himself, since it ema- 
 nates from him. I don't expect to teach you all, for I 
 know that as long as life shall last we will be adding to 
 our comprehension, our knowledge of the truth. How- 
 ever, I want you to know that accepting the gospel 
 is more than accepting a theory. The world has al- 
 ways been ready to accept theories. But Christ wants 
 more than that, infinitely more. He wants men and 
 women who are willing to work with him, who are 
 willing to help him accomplish his great work. Christ, 
 we are told in the Bible, was in the beginning with 
 God. In that realm he was rich with riches far beyond 
 the comprehension of this world. He laid down those 
 riches for the good of mankind and became poor for 
 our sakes. Now he is calling men and women into the 
 work with him, and as followers of him, they must be 
 
414 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ready and willing to make sacrifices for the good ol 
 others. Sacrifice is not easy to make, and I am 
 ashamed to say that many times in the past I have 
 ushered men into the church whom I failed to instruct 
 along this line, fearing they might lack the courage to 
 go on. 
 
 "The entering of an army on earth in times of war 
 is no light thing ; it means service, long marches, scanty 
 rations, and even the facing of fire of the enemy. So 
 it is in the army of Christ. When we join that army 
 we array ourselves with him, against the world, the 
 flesh, and the Devil. And I tell you frankly that no man 
 in bis own power can make it. Were it not for the fact 
 that Christ gives us the help we need along the way 
 we would all fall in the battle. 
 
 * * Now there is an old law laid down in the Bible, and 
 as I have taught you the other laws of God I want to 
 teach you that law also. It is the financial law of God, 
 which, like all other laws of his as contrasting with the 
 laws of man, is just." 
 
 "Let me interrupt you for just one moment,'' Bill 
 Lakeman said. "I want to tell you what I consider 
 an injustice. It may be the practice of the church I 
 am going to join, I don't know. But I don't like it. 
 You know Mrs. Brown, Cynthia's mother? Well, you 
 know their situation. Now when they levy their church 
 dues, she is expected to pay just as much as Sophronia, 
 Marion Bumside, or any of the rest. I think it's a 
 burning shame. The money means so much to them. 
 Now I think those who are able to do so should pay 
 
THE WAY OF GOD 415 
 
 the dues for those who are not. I don't believe it is as 
 it should be/' 
 
 ''Nor I, either," Alfred agreed. ''Every person 
 knows that churches cannot be carried on without 
 finances. In fact the Christian churches of to-day are 
 not doing the work along financial lines which they 
 should do. They are probably doing the best they can 
 with their system, but their system is wrong. As it 
 has been in so many other things the way God laid 
 down has been forgotten and laid aside and the ways of 
 man substituted in its stead, and the ways of man are 
 not sufficient. Consequently lodges and benevolent 
 societies are doing the work which rightly belongs to 
 the church." 
 
 "Do you mean," Bill Lakeman asked, "that there 
 should be no lodges or benevolent societies?" 
 
 "No, not that," Alfred said. "I mean simply this: 
 The work of Christ is big enough, broad enough to 
 cover those things. But the church cast aside that part 
 of the law among other things. The result was that 
 men, seeing the great need which the church should have 
 supplied, banded themselves together to supply that 
 need. 
 
 "They are in the world as a natural consequence of 
 the failure of the churches. You mentioned a case 
 just a moment ago. I understand that Mrs. Brown's 
 health failed and that the burden of support fell upon 
 the daughter when she was quite young. Now how 
 much help, I mean systematic, regular help, did she 
 receive from the church ? Individuals may have helped 
 
416 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 her, but regular systematic help such as a lodge would 
 give her, did the church give that?" 
 
 '* Indeed no," Bill Lakeman said. 
 
 **As I said before, Mr. Lakeman, the intentions are 
 good, but the system is wrong. Let me show you how 
 it was in the days of the apostles." 
 
 Alfred pulled from his pocket an ever-ready pocket 
 edition of the Bible. 
 
 ''From Acts 4 and 5, we learn that the church of 
 Christ did not leave this matter to lodges or organiza- 
 tions of men. Listen carefully : ' Neither was there any 
 among them that lacked : for as many as were possessors 
 of lands or houses sold them, and brought the prices of 
 the things that were sold, and laid them down at the 
 apostles' feet: and distribution was made unto every 
 man according as he had need. . . . But a certain man 
 named Ananias, with Sapphira his wife, sold a posses- 
 sion, and kept back part of the price, his wife also 
 being privy to it, and brought a certain part, and laid 
 it at the apostles' feet. But Peter said, Ananias, why 
 hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost, 
 and keep back part of the price of the land? While 
 it remained, was it not thine own? and after it was 
 sold, was it not in thine own power? why hast thou 
 conceived this thing in thine heart? thou hast not lied 
 unto men, but unto God.' 
 
 ''Now Malachi 3:8, 9, 10: 'Will a man rob God? 
 Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say, wherein have we 
 robbed thee? In tithes and offerings. . . . Bring ye all 
 the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat 
 in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the 
 
THE WAY OF GOD 417 
 
 Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of 
 heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall 
 not be room enough to receive it.' " 
 
 ''I don't think I quite follow you," Bill Lakeman 
 said. ''You would not advocate to-day a man selling 
 all he had and turning all the money over to the church, 
 would you? An old man like myself would have a 
 hard time starting over, I'm afraid." 
 
 "1 most certainly would not," Alfred answered. ''I 
 would not advocate that any man, young or old, should 
 sell all he had and give to the church. Nor do I be- 
 lieve that is what was done in that case. I'm inclined 
 to believe that in the whole Bible there is no more 
 thoroughly misunderstood passage of scripture than 
 the one I just read to you. Suppose, Mr. Lakeman, 
 you should sell all you have and give it to the church, 
 you would lack yourself then, would you not? Any 
 man who did that would lack, would place himself 
 among the poor. That was not what was done in the 
 apostles' days. Notice the wording, 'Neither was there 
 any among them that lacked.' Then notice Peter's re- 
 buke to Ananias, 'While it remained was it not thine 
 own? and after it was sold was it not in thine own 
 power?' Ananias had not been compelled by the law 
 of God to sell. And after selling he was not compelled 
 to give. Ananias 's sin lay in his trying to appear to 
 be what he was not. Notice verse one of chapter 5: 
 
 " 'But a certain man, named Ananias, sold a posses- 
 sion.' 
 
 "It does not tell us that Ananias sold all his posses- 
 sions, but a possession. 
 
418 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 ''The Lord speaking to his church in this day has 
 condescended to explain this matter to us. In a reve- 
 lation given to the church in July, 1838, the Lord 
 said: 'In answer to the question, Lord, show unto 
 thy servants how much thou requirest of the properties 
 of thy people for a tithing? Verily, thus saith the Lord, 
 I require all their surplus property/ 
 
 "Further he said: 'And this shall be the beginning 
 of the tithing of my people ; and after that, those who 
 have thus been tithed, shall pay one tenth of all their 
 interest annually, and this shall be a standing law unto 
 them. ' 
 
 "That's the way, Mr. Lakeman, I believe it was in 
 the instances so briefly recorded here. It was not all 
 their properties that were sold and given into the 
 apostles' hands, but their surplus properties — that 
 which was over and above their needs. Consequently 
 there was brought about that condition where none of 
 them 'lacked,' for he who did not need gave, and to 
 him who needed was given." 
 
 "Humph," Bill Lakeman said. "Do you think any 
 man to-day would give property he had, even if it was 
 more than he needed, for some one else that didn't 
 have?" 
 
 "Yes," Alfred said, "I think he would if he were 
 a follower of Christ, for he has said: 'If thou lovest 
 me, thou shalt serve me and keep all my command- 
 ments. And behold thou wilt remember the poor and 
 consecrate of thy properties for their support. * 
 
 "You see, Mr. Lakeman, the Lord's plan is not to 
 take from the widows such as you mentioned, but to 
 
THE WAY OF GOD 419 
 
 give unto them. His plan is not to take from any man 
 that which he needs, but rather that which he does 
 not need. And he asks man to give cheerfully that 
 he who needs may have.*' 
 
 ''That is a fine theory, boy," Bill Lakeman said, 
 ''but it seems to me that the Lord would get awfully 
 little at that. Not that there is not enough in the world, 
 but the man who holds so much that he does not need 
 is little likely to accept Christ. The poor do that." 
 
 "Yes, I know," Alfred said. "But even at that the 
 plan works out well. It was not the extremely rich 
 who accepted the gospel in Christ's day, yet they were 
 able to bring about that condition where none of them 
 lacked. We can do the same in our day also, Mr. 
 Lakeman. However, we have considered only one 
 phase of the question, that is, consecration of proper- 
 ties. The Lord says that is the beginning of the 
 tithing of his people; after that they will pay one 
 tenth of their interest annually. ' ' 
 
 "One tenth of their interest? Why, boy, that's 
 awfully little." 
 
 "Yes, it does seem small," Alfred answered. "Then 
 there are freewill offerings. Any person may give 
 them as he sees fit and is able." 
 
 "Is that the financial law of the church?" Bill Lake- 
 man asked. 
 
 "Yes," Alfred answered, "it is the law as I under- 
 stand it. It consists of three parts : 
 
 "1. Consecration — the giving of surplus properties. 
 
 "2. Tithing — one tenth 6i the interest annually. 
 
420 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 '*3. Offerings — that which any person gives voluntar- 
 ily. 
 
 *'You will notice by that law, the burden falls not 
 upon the poor, but upon the rich." 
 
 ''It is an ideal law," Bill Lakeman said. ''Why, 
 that's the thing the whole world wants but doesn't 
 know how to get at it. The world is clamoring for a 
 more equal distribution of wealth." 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman, the world wants the whole gospel 
 of Christ if it just knew how to get at it." 
 
 "Yes, yes," the old man said. "I know, boy, I know. 
 
 "Now I want to get at this thing," Bill Lakeman 
 went on. "Suppose I had something I wanted to con- 
 secrate. Would I look around and find some poor per- 
 son and give it to him?" 
 
 "The Bible is our guide in all things, Mr. Lakeman.. 
 Do you remember how they did it in Christ's church 
 of that day." 
 
 "They laid them at the apostles' feet," the old man 
 answered. 
 
 "Yes, and do you remember the commandment given 
 through Malachi? 'Bring ye all the tithes into the store- 
 house.' It emphasizes this fact: There is order in the 
 house of God. There are certain ones upon whom the 
 looking after this work devolves. Any other method 
 would bring confusion, not order." 
 
 "Another question, boy. How are we to know that 
 those certain ones are not speculators? All men are 
 not honest, you know." 
 
 "I know," Alfred answered, "and it is the right of 
 every man to know that anything he gives will go to 
 
THE WAY OF GOD 421 
 
 the work of the Lord and not into the private coffers 
 of any man. All church organizations are not so 
 particular upon that point as our own. Some have 
 accused us of not having confidence in those who have 
 charge of that work because we require an account 
 from them. But we do not regard it so, and a detailed 
 list of all moneys received and spent is published once 
 each year, so that every man may know just what is 
 being accomplished.'' 
 
 "Good," Bill Lakeman ejaculated. He studied the 
 leaves above him in silence for a time. 
 
 ''It looks like I've got some more work to do now, 
 doesn't it?" 
 
 ''What is that?" Alfred asked blankly, his mind 
 wandering away into the past over scenes and condi- 
 tions recalled by their conversation. 
 
 "Why, finding out if I have any surplus," the old 
 man answered. "If I have anything I don't need that 
 the Lord can use, I want to find out what it is. Now 
 my farm here is clear of all indebtedness. It is not 
 large and has all the stock on it that it can rightly 
 support and no more. There is nothing so far, is 
 there ? 
 
 "Now I have in the bank eight hundred dollars. My 
 crop will soon come in and will more than look after 
 winter's needs. I can think of no real need for that 
 money. It looks like surplus. Yes, sir, I guess that 
 law hits me." 
 
 The statement was made with such childlike sim- 
 plicity, that Alfred felt his heart burn with love for the 
 
422 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 old man whose years in passing had left his character 
 untarnished. 
 
 ''Then/' the old man went on, ''if I understand you 
 rightly, if I figure up at the end of another year and 
 find I have cleared $200 I shall pay tithing on that." 
 
 "That's God's law as I understand it." 
 
 "Do you know, boy, it's a source of pleasure to me to 
 know that there is something I can do for the Lord. 
 I'll tell you, lad, I'm going to make this old farm pro- 
 duce, and then even if I can't go out and tell others of 
 the gospel, if I can help somebody else to go maybe the 
 Lord will count it a little bit to my credit." 
 
 "Mr. Lakeman," Alfred said earnestly, "it will make 
 us all 'workers together with God.' That's the highest 
 position any man on earth can occupy." 
 
 Bill Lakeman acted upon his word. That evening a 
 check accompanied by a characteristic letter was mailed 
 to the bishop. It found that good man checking over 
 the many calls for help which came to him, while his 
 associates worked over the lists of the missionaries' 
 families and considered their needs. 
 
 "How would you like it, brother," the associate 
 looked up from his work to inquire, "if the time came 
 when there was enough in the storehouse to supply all 
 the worthy poor who came before you for help ? How 
 would you like it?" 
 
 "God hasten the day," the bishop prayed fervently, 
 then sighed deeply. "It is to-day as it was in the days 
 of old, not many rich give heed unto the word, but 
 unto the poor among men is the gospel preached. 
 Yet more could be accomplished. The widow and the 
 
THE WAY OF GOD '• 423 
 
 orphans need not suffer if those who have named the 
 name of Christ would keep his law/' 
 
 Bill Lakeman was not alone in his act, for Stanley, 
 whose needs as a young physician just starting in his 
 work, and for whom a careful inventory would dis- 
 close no surplus said: ''I am yet free to give the Lord 
 an offering, and perhaps as time goes on I may be able 
 to make up for my present wants by paying tithing." 
 
 Jennie and Henry Parsons, whose offerings were 
 of necessity small, desired that regardless of this they 
 might also be permitted to help. So when Bill Lake- 
 man's letter went forward it contained a list of the 
 consecrations and offerings of four. When Cynthia, by 
 sacrifice, had extended an offering Alfred restrained 
 her. 
 
 ''Not now," he said. ''Perhaps in the future you 
 may be able to give more than we all ; who can tell ? ' ' 
 
 To Bill Lakeman later he said: " 'Tis to such as she 
 that should be given. I do not think we should take 
 from her." 
 
 "Right, boy, right," the old man said. 
 
 A letter from Alfred to the bishop explaining the case 
 to him and suggesting the results to Cynthia and her 
 mother of an enforced idleness of any duration elicited 
 the following response : 
 
 "If the Saints could realize the results, were all to 
 follow the example of Bill Lakeman and his associates, 
 I am sure that our need could be supplied. I am in- 
 closing a small check and will send a like amount 
 monthly for the young sister who is out of employment, 
 until such a time as employment can be had. Keep me 
 
424 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 advised, for it is possible that should occasion demand 
 we may be able to help in finding employment else- 
 where if it cannot be secured there. It will be our 
 pleasure to assist as far as possible. 
 
 *'Now in regard to the young man who comtemplates 
 entering school this winter. I have taken the matter up 
 with the young people's organization and find that they 
 have a scholarship for Graceland College which can be 
 placed at his disposal. Perhaps he can make a return 
 by later in his career supplying scholarships for others, 
 for we need as a church to help each other." 
 
 Once again we have preceded our story. The evening 
 came when they gathered around the spot chosen for 
 the baptismal services. A holy hush was on them and 
 each felt the sacredness of the hour. Jennie and Cyn- 
 thia stood by the water's edge and sang with mellowed 
 voices : 
 
 Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in thee; 
 
 Let the water and the blood, 
 
 From thy wounded side which flowed, 
 
 Be of sin the double cure — 
 
 Save from wrath and make me pure. 
 
 while Alfred, whose eyes were blinded with tears of 
 gratitude, led Bill Lakeman into the waters. 
 
 ''Mr. Lakeman," his hand rose high above the old 
 man's snow-white hair and his voice thrilled with the 
 gladness he could not express, ''having been commis- 
 sioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you, in the name of 
 
THE WAY OF GOD 425 
 
 the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 
 Amen.'* 
 
 The waters closed for a moment, as the grave over 
 the man; then, as the grave is opened at the last day- 
 through the triumph of Christ, they parted again, and 
 Bill Lakeman stood before them a new man in Christ, 
 having been bom into his kingdom. As a benediction 
 the words reached them : 
 
 Not the labor of my hands 
 
 Can fulfill the law's demands; 
 
 Could my zeal no respite know, 
 
 Could my tears forever flow, ^ 
 
 All for sin could not atone — 
 
 Thou must save, and thou alone. 
 
 Stanley came next. The wish of his heart had been 
 granted, the question settled, and he knew there was 
 a God. 
 
 John Bennett followed, and Alfred shuddered when 
 he realized how nearly this man had gone into eternity 
 with his load of sin, which would now be removed and 
 remembered against him no more forever. 
 
 His wife, Mary, followed at her own request, and 
 the eyes she raised to heaven so overflowed with thanks- 
 giving that the voices of the singers broke in sympathy. 
 
 Henry Parsons also entered gladly, fear of himself 
 being swallowed up in his newly found confidence in 
 Christ. 
 
 Cynthia's mother, who had accepted the message as 
 repeated by Cynthia, Hazel Langdon, Aunt Sophronia, 
 and Cynthia were in their turn conducted into the 
 kingdom of God. Aunt Sophronia had not expressed 
 
426 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 herself as intending to be baptized, yet Bill Lakeman 
 had seen that her own dry clothing had been arranged 
 with that of the others and knew that they were not 
 to be a divided family. 
 
 Jennie came last, and Alfred felt that his cup of joy 
 was full when he opened the door to her and bade her in 
 Christ's name to enter. And Jennie no longer cared 
 that the way was obscure or humble, but gladly did she 
 find her feet planted in the old, old path made bright 
 through the ages. She felt herself to be one to whom 
 the prophet had spoken: 
 
 ' ' Stand ye in the ways, and seek and ask for the old 
 path wherein is the good way and walk therein, and ye 
 shall find rest for your souls.'' 
 
 Truly she had found rest. It seemed now that the 
 doubt, uncertainty, and distress of the past could 
 never have existed. 
 
 *'0h, mother," she whispered, when she stood again 
 on the sand at the brink of the waters, **if you could 
 only have been here. But I know you know, mother. 
 I know that where you are you will learn the way 
 and Christ will give you peace." 
 
 As soon as they were dressed, the chairs were ar- 
 ranged for the last time under the honeysuckle, not 
 around the table as they had been for their study but 
 in a row, where side by side they should receive that 
 long-forgotten ordinance of the gospel, ^'the laying on 
 of hands." 
 
 Alfred, as a servant of Christ passed from one to the 
 other imploring God to confirm unto them the work by 
 the power of his Spirit. From the time his hands were 
 
THE WAY OF GOD 427 
 
 placed on the white hair of Bill Lakeman until they 
 rested on the coal-black tresses of Jennie Burnside at 
 the other end of the row, the Spirit of the Lord rested 
 on him and they were made to realize the meaning of 
 the words: ''Our gospel came not unto you in word 
 only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in 
 much assurance.'' For the Lord used him to deliver 
 unto them messages of encouragement and consolation. 
 Unto Stanley Lakeman he had said : 
 
 ''The Spirit of the Lord admonishes me to say unto 
 you, his servant, that inasmuch as you have covenanted 
 this day to serve him, he has claimed you as his own, 
 and you shall serve him in harmony with your desires 
 that others might be saved. For there are indeed many 
 yet in this place who will obey and you shall be as a 
 shepherd over the flock ; you shall lead them and teach 
 them of his ways until your journey shall have ended 
 and you shall rest in the paradise of God.'' 
 
 To Henry Parsons he said: "The time will come 
 when you shall lift your voice in the assembly halls of 
 men to the glory of your God and your Redeemer." 
 
 And to John Bennett he spoke, mentioning the strug- 
 gle he had made and giving him the promise of success 
 through the help of God: "For the time will come 
 when you shall be called into active service and your 
 voice shall be heard in defense of the gospel by many 
 people, even in distant lands." 
 
 So they learned that the God of the past still reigned 
 and that he did truly pour out of his Spirit in the last 
 days. 
 
CHAPTER 37 
 THE GOSPEL INFLUENCE AT WORK 
 
 THE YEARS which followed were years of wonder- 
 ful change in Leesburg. John Albee's coming 
 had not been in vain. He had discovered Alfred 
 as he alighted from the train that first day of his arrival 
 in Leesburg and their surprise and delight had been 
 mutual. 
 
 ''Have you been preaching here?" he asked eagerly. 
 "Do tell me that I am not to be isolated. Tell me I 
 shall find Saints.'' 
 
 ''You shall," Alfred said, laughing at his eagerness. 
 "Nine were baptized yesterday." 
 
 "Good," the young man exclaimed. "Do you know, 
 Al, I have a fight on my hands. I wonder if in the 
 end I will be any less a child of God." 
 
 "I think you will not," Alfred answered, "but sup- 
 pose you tell me about it." 
 
 Then John Albee told him of his changed condition. 
 
 "Above all things," he said, "I want to do as the 
 Lord would have me do. While I am not a rich man, 
 yet I know that the coming of this property means 
 responsibility to God. I realize that I can use it to his 
 glory or to my own spiritual destruction. I pray God 
 it may not be the latter." 
 
 In the end he went cheerfully into the presence of 
 
GOSPEL INFLUENCE AT WORK 429 
 
 Marion Burnside. He found him crumpled in his chair, 
 the picture of dejection. 
 
 ''I have been expecting you," Marion Burnside said. 
 ''It's all ready for you." 
 
 ''I looked over the ruins as I came up," John Albee 
 answered. ''I think we should rebuild at once." 
 
 ''I supposed you would want to rebuild," Marion 
 Burnside said. ''It is the best thing to do. There were 
 orders enough ahead to keep the plant running for 
 months. The business was well established." 
 
 "Good," the young man exclaimed. "That will 
 make it easier. Now, Mr. Burnside, when shall we make 
 our plans for rebuilding?" 
 
 "We!" Marion Burnside repeated blankly. "Why, 
 man, I haven't anything to do with it. That property 
 is yours." 
 
 "Mr. Burnside," the young man returned, "if that 
 fire had not come just when it did you would never have 
 let the mortgage take that property. You would have 
 found some way to redeem it." 
 
 "Yes, I would," Marion Burnside said. "But the 
 fire did come, so I guess that ends it." 
 
 "No, it does not end it," young Albee went on. "I 
 have thought this all out and figured it from every 
 angle. Under the law of the land, I own it. But I am 
 living also under another law which tells me I should 
 not take advantage of my neighbor. I figure that I 
 own two thirds of that company and you own the other 
 third. Are you willing to form a company with me?" 
 
 Marion Burnside looked at the young man unbeliev- 
 ingly, yet said not a word. It was a vision of life as 
 
430 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 he had never seen it before — one wherein the good of 
 others was consulted and where self did not predomi- 
 nate. He rubbed his eyes as though he dreamed and 
 would drive away the phantom which held them. 
 
 *'It would be a gift," he said at last. 
 
 "No, Mr. Burnside," the other answered, ''it is not 
 a gift. I merely refuse to take advantage of your mis- 
 fortune. You will notice that I retain for myself the 
 majority of the stock. Frankly speaking, I want to 
 control this company's policy. But on the other hand 
 one third is yours if you want it, because I believe it 
 rightly belongs to you. Now if you think we could 
 work together for the rebuilding of the factory, let's 
 get busy and plan how.'' 
 
 Thus John Albee lifted a crushed and broken Marion 
 Burnside, that a new and better Marion Burnside might 
 emerge from the ruins of the old. 
 
 So they rebuilded, and Marion Burnside threw him- 
 self into the work with all his usual vim and ardor. 
 For a time he could not become accustomed to the new 
 order of things — the new order in which the good of all 
 were considered, and self rose no higher than was abso- 
 lutely necessary for the safe conducting of the business. 
 Marion Burnside 's ability was also a valuable asset to 
 John Albee, and as time went on and they settled in 
 their ways he had occasion many times to be thankful 
 that he had not allowed greed or selfishness to rule. 
 
 The new, modern factory building which had been 
 erected, so unlike the old, was designed to bring com- 
 fort and protection to those employed. A higher scale 
 
GOSPEL INFLUENCE AT WORK 431 
 
 of wages went into effect and satisfaction followed in 
 the footsteps of complaint. 
 
 The policy of the big house was changed. 
 
 ''That certainly is surplus property to me," John 
 Albee laughed to Alfred. ''I can't live in a house that 
 big." 
 
 So the time came when many children played about 
 its grounds, and orphans were comforted within its 
 walls. Mary Bennett found room for them all in her 
 heart, for the church had placed these in her charge, 
 and from the poverty-stricken cottage among the trees 
 she had come forth to take up her life work, and Mary 
 Bennett was happy. As time went on and John Bennett 
 entered more and more fully into the work of the newly 
 organized church, Mary Bennett realized that she would 
 soon be called upon to sacrifice his companionship 
 which had grown dearer with each passing day. Yet 
 she knew that a full consecration of her life and his 
 would be a small return for what the Lord had done 
 for them. So she looked forward and prayed for the 
 time when he should become a message bearer. And a 
 true, earnest message bearer he became. The dissipa- 
 tion of the past fell away, and erect in the strength of 
 his manhood he fought the battle of the Prince of Peace. 
 He left his loom that he might help others weave the 
 robe of righteousness which they should wear at the 
 last day. 
 
 As for Stanley, he become pastor and shepherd of the 
 church in Leesburg. His task was not always easy, tor 
 many problems arose which tested his patience and 
 ability. His work as a physician kept him very busy. 
 
432 THE CALL AT EVENING 
 
 Faith, added to his knowledge, had brought him much 
 success, and the demands for his service were almost 
 greater than he could fill. 
 
 He had a valuable helper and ally in Henry Parsons, 
 for Henry and his wife had mastered their course and 
 entered into their work energetically. The time came 
 when the plates on the office door read: ''Lakeman, 
 Parsons, and Parsons: M. D. and 0. E. Physicians." 
 
 Yet changes came, for the time was when Henry 
 Parsons was sent to the legislature to fill the seat so 
 long occupied by his father. And he lifted up his voice 
 fearlessly in the assembly halls of men for the rightings 
 of the wrongs existing. 
 
 Hazel Langdon made an ideal pastor's wife, and Stan- 
 ley many times received counsel and consolation from 
 her in his hours of discouragement. 
 
 ''I didn't think, Stanley," Hazel said the day they 
 were married, ''when I promised to marry you, that I 
 would ever be the wife of a minister." 
 
 And Stanley laughed reflectively as his mind went 
 back to that time when he hated preachers so fervently. 
 
 Alfred Stewart did not get home often, for there 
 never came a time in his life when he laid aside the 
 banner. When he did come, however, he always found 
 Jennie waiting for him with words of cheer. Sam 
 Turner with willing toil cultivated the little farm 
 Jennie had purchased and was happy in the thought 
 that it was service for Christ. 
 
 When Marion Burnside finally passed, Jennie took 
 up conscientiously her duties as a stewardess under 
 
GOSPEL INFLUENCE AT WORK 433 
 
 God, and studied carefully the law, "that I fail not," 
 she said. 
 
 Bill Lakeman — we were going to tell you, but are 
 not able, of the last great triumph of his life — ^Bill 
 Lakeman lived to achieve that triumph of all triumphs 
 for, although the time came when, with common grief 
 they gathered round his bed (he would have them all, 
 those he loved so dearly) and saw him fall into his last 
 quiet sleep, yet Bill Lakeman did not die. By his in- 
 fluence he lived through the generations which followed. 
 For Stanley and the others, whose characters he had 
 helped' to mold, passed that influence on to their chil- 
 dren, from whom it reached out to others in a never- 
 ending wave of helpfulness. 
 
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