e no friends of
your own; if you have, do your best for their sake, and let us ask God
to help you as He only can.'

Then waiting for no answer the good man prayed heartily, and Dan
listened as he never had before; for the lonely hour, the dying message,
the sudden uprising of his better self, made it seem as if some kind
angel had come to save and comfort him. After that night there was a
change in Dan, though no one knew it but the chaplain; for to all the
rest he was the same silent, stern, unsocial fellow as before, and
turning his back on the bad and the good alike, found his only pleasure
in the books his friend brought him. Slowly, as the steadfast drop wears
away the rock, the patient kindness of this man won Dan's confidence,
and led by him he began to climb out of the Valley of Humiliation
towards the mountains, whence, through the clouds, one can catch
glimpses of the Celestial City whither all true pilgrims sooner or
later turn their wistful eyes and stumbling feet. There were many
back-slidings, many struggles with Giant Despair and fiery Apollyon,
many heavy hours when life did not seem worth living and Mason's escape
the only hope. But through all, the grasp of a friendly hand, the sound
of a brother's voice, the unquenchable desire to atone for the past by a
better future, and win the right to see home again, kept poor Dan to his
great task as the old year drew to its end, and the new waited to turn
another leaf in the book whose hardest lesson he was learning now.

At Christmas he yearned so for Plumfield that he devised a way to send a
word of greeting to cheer their anxious hearts, and comfort his own. He
wrote to Mary Mason, who lived in another State, asking her to mail the
letter he enclosed. In it he merely said he was well and busy, had given
up the farm, and had other plans which he would tell later; would not
be home before autumn probably, nor write often, but was all right, and
sent love and merry Christmas to everyone.

Then he took up his solitary life again, and tried to pay his forfeit
manfully.

Chapter 13. NAT'S NEW YEAR

'I don't expect to hear from Emil yet, and Nat writes regularly, but
where is Dan? Only two or three postals since he went. Such an energetic
fellow as he is could buy up all the farms in Kansas by this time,' said
Mrs Jo one morning when the mail came in and no card or envelope bore
Dan's dashing hand.

'He never writes often, you know, but does his work an