e," he replied, "and I chose this profession
because I like it. I believe in it. You see, I was born to be a fighter.
If I'd had a big, lusty body like yours, I might have been--anything. As
it is, I had to choose something where I could fight with other weapons
than bone, muscle and bodily endurance. I'm going into the fight of
helping men and women in the best way I can, don't you see? I suppose I
must sound cheeky and brazen to talk this way, but I'm full of the joy
of it all, and I've made the goal, you see, and for all the breakdown
I've come out ahead. It's enough to stir one, don't you think?

"The night I graduated, I don't mind telling this to you, I went down on
my knees when all the excitement was over and the lights were out, and I
said, 'I am here. I've got money; the good God need not have me on his
mind along that line; he can send me where he chooses, to do his work;
I'm ready.'

"It was like consecrating myself, you know. Well, when the sickness
came, I thought perhaps he didn't want me or my money either; but I came
out of the Valley and here I am now, and I tell you--it seems good."

Filmer folded his arms across his chest, and looked steadily ahead of
him.

"Do you know," he said at length--"and I hope you'll excuse me--I think
you're the most comical cuss that ever happened."

Drew met this frank opinion with the boyish laugh that was having the
effect of clearing up all the dull places in Filmer's character. He had
never heard that laugh equalled but once, and he rarely went back to
that memory--the path was too hard and lonely.

The reserves were down between the two. Without reason or cause,
perhaps, they had fallen into a confident liking.

"Have you done much marrying and burying yet?" The question startled
Drew, then he recalled the conversation on the Station platform.

"Well, no," he said, "practical demonstration comes after graduation
generally. I've substituted for ministers--preached a Sunday, now and
then, you know; but of course, I _can_ perform the marriage ceremony, or
read the burial service."

"You look pretty young," Jock spoke slowly; he was noting the strange
dignity of his guest. Any reference to his profession brought with it
this calm assurance that held levity in check; "but it's this way.
There's a wedding fixed for to-morrer. I've set my heart on it coming
off, and there ain't a durned parson to be had, that the girl favours.
Now under these circumstances, you ca