have ever done," replied Father Boone, as they clasped hands on
parting.

Father Boone's thoughts just now had turned to the McCormack concert.
After the disturbance, he had sent the tickets to a priest down town,
who had a boys' club in a poor section of the city. "But I don't know as
it's too bad," he thought. "Those boys down there never get much of
anything. I'll find some way to make it up. The boys won't suffer for my
mistake, that's certain."

He phoned down to Carnegie Hall.

"Sold out," was the answer.

"I thought so," he reflected, not at all disappointed.

That afternoon while down town on business, he turned over 57th Street
to Seventh Avenue and dropped into Carnegie Hall to see what other date
McCormack was booked for. While he was making his inquiries, a man
standing nearby approached him.

"Pardon, Father, you're from St. Leonard's? I am Mr. McCormack's
manager; perhaps I can help you out." When he heard that ninety seats
were wanted, he almost collapsed, "But your boys are little chaps,
aren't they, Father, from nine to fifteen? Lads of that age don't take
up much room. How would you like to have them seated on the stage?"

"Why, that's capital," exclaimed Father Boone.

"Well, I can manage that. We'll give them the first row on either side.
That will put them right close to McCormack while he's singing. I know
how kids like to be near to what's going on."

So it was all arranged, and Father Boone returned home very happy. He
had received that very morning a letter from one of the parishioners who
always gave him something for the Club at Christmas. This time it was a
check for $150.00. The tickets cost him $90.00. "With the rest," he
mused, "I shall be able to give them a good time."

(II)

That evening the boys were rather subdued. Bill Daly's death had
affected them greatly. To be playing with a lad on Monday, and to know
he is dead on Friday, is a terrible shock to boys.

As Father Boone entered the Club he observed how serious they were. It
was natural, he reflected, and best to let it work itself out. He would
not mention the McCormack treat just now.

The boys gathered around him, and asked all sorts of questions about
Bill's last moments. Even to these lads it meant something consoling
that he had died a beautiful Catholic death. They told Father Boone that
they had gone to Mass in a body that morning, and had received Holy
Communion for Bill's soul.

"I offered up the Holy