e that way the first time," he said, "but you
let me change grips on you. In another week you will be too much for
me, _bon ami_."

The other accepted the hand after an instant of hesitation and was
dragged to his feet. He stood resting one elbow on the gleaming
shoulder of Pierre and looking down into the boy's face with a singular
grin. But there was no triumph in the eye of Pierre--only a
good-natured interest.

"In another week," answered the giant, "there will not be a sound bone
in my body. This very night I shall go to Father Victor. I had rather
starve for three days in the forest than stand up to you for three
minutes, little brother."

CHAPTER II

IRENE

"You have seen him," murmured the tall priest. "Now let us go back and
wait for him. I will leave word."

He touched one of the two or three men who were watching the athletes,
and whispered his message in the other's ear. Then he went back with
Father Anthony.

"You have seen him," he repeated, when they sat once more in the
cheerless room. "Now pronounce on him."

The other answered: "I have seen a wonderful body--but the mind, Father
Victor?"

"It is as simple as that of a child--his thoughts run as clear as
spring water."

"Ah, but they are swift thoughts. Suppose the spring water gathers up
a few stones and rushes on down the side of the mountain. Very soon it
is wearing a deeper channel--then but a little space, and it is a
raging torrent and tears down great trees from its banks and goes
shouting and leaping out toward the sea.

"Suppose a strange thought came in the mind of your Pierre. It would
be like the pebbles in the swift-running spring water. He would carry
it on, rushing. It would tear away the old boundaries of his mind--it
might wipe out the banks you have set down for him--it might tear away
the choicest teachings."

Father Victor sat straight and stiff with stern, set lips.

He said dryly: "Father Anthony has been much in the world."

"I speak from the best intention, good father. Look you, now, I have
seen that same red hair and those same lighted blue eyes before, and
wherever I have seen them has been war and trouble and unrest. I have
seen that same whimsical smile which stirs the heart of a woman and
makes a man reach for his revolver. This boy whose mind is so
clear--arm him with a single wrong thought, with a single doubt of the
eternal goodness of God's plans, and he will be a thunderbolt i