ng
back and regarding the coachman with such a white and horrified
countenance that it frightened the clouds from his brain. "Is that
terrible claim in a bottle, and do people drink it out?" she asked
slowly, and in an awestruck tone.

"It's no harm," began Zeke.

"No harm when your mother is crying, when your face is full of error,
and your eyes were hating? No harm when my mother cried, and all our
gladness was gone? Would you go and drink a claim like that out of a
bottle--of your own accord?"

Zeke wriggled under the blue eyes and the unnatural rigidity of the
child's face.

"No, Jewel, he wouldn't," groaned Mrs. Forbes suddenly. "Zeke's a good
boy, but he's inherited that. His father died of it. It's a disease,
child. I thought my boy would escape, but he hasn't! It's the end!"
cried the wretched woman. "What will Mr. Evringham say! To think how I
blamed Fanshaw! Zeke'll lose his place and go downhill, and I shall die
of shame and despair." Her sobs again shook her from head to foot.

Jewel continued to look at Zeke. A new, eager expression stole over her
face. "_Is_ it the end?" she asked. "Don't you believe in God?"

"I suppose so," answered the coachman sullenly. "I know I'm a man, too.
I can control myself."

"No. Nobody can. Even Jesus said, 'Of myself I can do nothing.' Only God
can help you. If you can drink that nasty smelling stuff, and get all
red and rumply and sorry, then you need God the worst of anybody in
Bel-Air. You look better now. It's just like a dream, the way you lifted
up your face to me when I came in, and it _was_ a dream. I'll help you,
Zeke. I'll show you how to find help." The child suddenly leaned toward
the young fellow, and then retreated. "I can't stand your breath!" she
exclaimed, "and I like to get close to the people I love."

This seemed to touch Zeke. He blushed hotly. "It's a darned shame, kid,"
he returned sheepishly.

"Mrs. Forbes, come here, please," said Jewel. The housekeeper had ceased
crying, and was watching the pair. She saw that her boy's senses were
clearer. She approached obediently, and when the child took her hand her
own closed tightly upon the little fingers.

"Zeke, you're a big strong man and everybody likes you," said Jewel
earnestly. "Isn't it better to stay that way than to drink out of a
bottle, no matter _how_ much you like it?"

"I don't like it so awfully," returned Zeke protestingly. "I like to be
sociable with the boys, that's all."

"