eating Aunt Kirsty's apple pie and cream; but the good Samaritan was
not discouraged. "Well, well," he said with a sigh, "he kept away from
it longer this time than ever. He's improving. Eh, eh, poor body,
poor Peter!"

"It would seem as if the work of the Good Samaritan is never done,
Angus," said Lawyer Ed. "I suppose there will always be thieves on the
Jericho Road."

"I was just wondering to-day," said Angus thoughtfully, "if, while we
go on picking up the men on the Jericho Road, we couldn't be doing
something to keep the thieves from doing their evil work. There's
Peter now. If we can't keep him away from the drink, don't you think
we ought to try to keep the drink away from him?"

"Lawyer Ed'll have to get a local option by-law passed in Algonquin,
Father," said Roderick.

"Eh, Lad," cried the old man, his face radiant, "it is your father
would be the happy man to see that day. There is a piece of work for
you two now."

"I'm ready," cried Lawyer Ed enthusiastically. "If I could only see
that cursed traffic on the run it would be the joy of my life to
encourage it with a good swift kick. We'll start a campaign right
away. Won't we, Rod?"

"All right," cried Roderick, pleased at the look in his father's face.
"You give your orders. I'm here to carry them out."

"There, Angus! You've got your policeman for the Jericho Road. We'll
do it yet. If we get the liquor business down, as Grandma Armstrong
says, we'll knock it conscientious."

Old Angus followed them to the gate when they drove away, his heart
swelling with high hope. He would live to see all his ambitions
realised in Roderick. He sat up very late that night and when he went
to bed and remembered how the Lad had promised to help rid Peter of the
drink curse, he could not sleep until he had sung the long-meter
doxology. He sang it very softly, for Kirsty was asleep and it might
be hard to explain to her if she were disturbed; nevertheless he sang
it with an abounding joy and faith.

As Roderick and Lawyer Ed drove homeward, down the moon-lit length of
the Pine Road; they were surprised to hear ahead of them, within a few
rods of Peter Fiddle's house, the sound of singing. Very wavering and
uncertain, now loud and high, now dropping to a low wail, came the slow
splendid notes of Kilmarnock to the sublime words of the 103rd psalm.

The two in the buggy looked at each other. "Peter!" cried Lawyer Ed in
dismay.

When Old Peter