nd carried his tin pail when he was one of the
workmen, and he still did it from choice. He, too, was a Scotchman of
a slightly different class from the Elder, it is true, but he was a
trustee of the church, and a man well respected in the community.

He touched his hat to the Elder, and the Elder nodded in return, but
neither spoke a word. Mr. Walters smiled after he was well past. "The
man has a touch of the indigestion," he said.

When the Elder entered his front door at noon, his first glance was at
the rack in the corner of the hall, where, on the left-hand hook,
Peter Junior's coat and hat had hung when he was at home, ever since
he was a boy. They were not there. The Elder lifted his bushy brows
one higher than the other, then drew them down to their usual straight
line, and walked on into the dining room. His wife was not there, but
in a moment she entered, looking white and perturbed.

"Peter!" she said, going up to her husband instead of taking her place
opposite him, "Peter!" She laid a trembling hand on his arm. "I
haven't seen the boys this morning. Their beds have not been slept
in."

"Quiet yourself, lass, quiet yourself. Sit and eat in peace. 'Evil
communications corrupt good manners,' but when doom strikes him, he'll
maybe experience a change of heart." The Elder spoke in a tone not
unkindly. He seated himself heavily.

Then his wife silently took her place at the table and he bowed his
head and repeated the grace to which she had listened three times a
day for nearly thirty years, only that this time he added the request
that the Lord would, in his "merciful kindness, strike terror to the
hearts of all evildoers and turn them from their way."

When the silent meal was ended, Hester followed her husband to the
door and laid a detaining hand on his arm. He stood and looked down on
that slender white hand as if it were something that too sudden a
movement would joggle off, and she did not know that it was as if she
had laid her hand on his very heart. "Peter, tell me what happened
yesterday afternoon. You should tell me, Peter."

Then the Elder did an unwonted thing. He placed his hand over hers and
pressed it harder on his arm, and after an instant's pause he stooped
and kissed her on the forehead.

"I spoke the lad fair, Hester, and made him an offer, but he would
none of it. He thinks he is his own master, but I have put him in the
Lord's hands."

"Has he gone, Peter?"

"Maybe, but the off