human and a boy. And after all, religion does not suppose we
are all saints. Its purpose is to make us such. It has hard work on some
material. But no substance is too hard for it, if only it has half a
chance. Bill, although a 'bad nut' as many called him, was not so bad as
he might have been. If it were not for his religion, poorly as he
practised it, he would have gone to the bad utterly. So Bill now stood
facing a new thing in his life. His father was turning in a new
direction. Would he keep on in it, or fall back, as so often before?

There was something different about this event, Bill felt. He had never
seen that peculiar and stern look in his father's eyes before. And he
remembered that the Sisters had often told them how God would help us do
things that we could not do ourselves if we truly turned to Him. It did
seem as though his father had truly turned to God. Bill also remembered
how every day the Sister had had the whole class say one "Hail Mary" for
those who were in temptation.

He went to his bedroom, closed the door, took out an old prayer book
and, opening it to a picture of the Mother of God, he prayed earnestly,
finishing with "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners _now_ and
at the hour of our death, Amen." Then he added, "Blessed Mother of God,
strengthen my poor father and make him good and sober."

Bill reflected that Father Boone had once told the boys that if they
wanted anything of God or of the Saints, they should add sacrifices to
their petitions. "Blessed Mother, in thy honor and for my father's
reform, I will leave off smoking until I am twenty-one." He arose
renewed and light-hearted.

All next day he revolved in his mind the scurvy trick he had done at the
Club. He knew the pride Father Boone took in having things nice there.
In reality it was the priest who had suffered by his wreckage, he
reflected, not the boys. Sure, they had suffered, too. The McCormack
treat had been called off. That was a mean trick. He had "queered" the
crowd to get square on one or two. And after all, what had he to square?
Mulvy had fought him straight.

The more he thought on it, the more Bill felt ashamed of himself. By
night he had fully made up his mind to go over to the Club, make a clean
breast of it all, and take the consequences. "And I'll offer that up
too," said he, "for Dad."

(V)

At the Club the next evening, all the fellows were talking matters over.
Father Boone was upstairs in