ed,
and, putting his hand on the young fellow's shoulder, led him away.

For a time they walked on in silence. Dokesbury had to calm the tempest
in his breast before he could trust his voice. After a while he said:
"That fellow was making it pretty hot for you, my young friend. What had
you done to him?"

"Nothin'," replied the other. "I was jes' dancin' 'long an' not thinkin'
'bout him, when all of a sudden he hollered dat I had his gal an'
commenced hittin' me."

"He's a bully and a coward, or he would not have made use of his
superior strength in that way. What's your name, friend?"

"'Lias Gray," was the answer, which startled the minister into
exclaiming,--

"What! are you Aunt Caroline's son?"

"Yes, suh, I sho is; does you know my mothah?"

"Why, I'm stopping with her, and we were talking about you last night.
My name is Dokesbury, and I am to take charge of the church here."

"I thought mebbe you was a preachah, but I couldn't scarcely believe it
after I seen de way you held Sam an' looked at him."

Dokesbury laughed, and his merriment seemed to make his companion feel
better, for the sullen, abashed look left his face, and he laughed a
little himself as he said: "I wasn't a-pesterin' Sam, but I tell you he
pestered me mighty."

Dokesbury looked into the boy's face,--he was hardly more than a
boy,--lit up as it was by a smile, and concluded that Aunt Caroline was
right. 'Lias might be "ca'less," but he wasn't a bad boy. The face was
too open and the eyes too honest for that. 'Lias wasn't bad; but
environment does so much, and he would be if something were not done for
him. Here, then, was work for a pastor's hands.

"You'll walk on home with me, 'Lias, won't you?"

"I reckon I mout ez well," replied the boy. "I don't stay erroun' home
ez much ez I oughter."

"You'll be around more, of course, now that I am there. It will be so
much less lonesome for two young people than for one. Then, you can be a
great help to me, too."

The preacher did not look down to see how wide his listener's eyes grew
as he answered: "Oh, I ain't fittin' to be no he'p to you, suh. Fust
thing, I ain't nevah got religion, an' then I ain't well larned enough."

"Oh, there are a thousand other ways in which you can help, and I feel
sure that you will."

"Of co'se, I'll do de ve'y bes' I kin."

"There is one thing I want you to do soon, as a favor to me."

"I can't go to de mou'nah's bench," cried the boy, in consterna