capable boy," Mr. Roberts thought, looking after Tode
as he dashed off down town. "Going to make just the man for our
business. I must begin to promote him soon."

As for Tode he was in high glee.

"What brought that Jim's brother over to help to-day?" he asked himself.
"I'd like to know _that_ now. I believe I do, as sure as I'm alive, that
_he_ heard every word, and has been and fixed it all out. I most know he
has, 'cause things didn't ever happen around like this for me before."

The pronoun "he" did not refer to Jim's brother, and was spoken with
that touch of awe and reverence which had so lately come to Tode. And I
think that the words were recorded up in heaven, as having a meaning not
unlike the acknowledgment of those less ignorant disciples, "Lord, I
believe."

CHAPTER X.

HABAKKUK.

The church toward which Tode bent his eager steps was quite filled when
he reached it, but the sexton made a way for him, and he settled into a
seat with a queer, awkward sense of having slipped into a spot that was
not intended for such as he; but the organ tones took up his attention,
and then in a moment a burst of music from the congregation, among the
words of which he could catch ever and anon that magic name Jesus. So at
least they were going to sing about him. Yes, and talk to him also, for
Mr. Birge's prayer, though couched in language quite beyond Tode's
reaching, yet closed with the to him wonderful sentence, "We ask in the
name and for the sake of Jesus our Redeemer." When he opened the great
book which Tode knew was the Bible, the boy was all attention; something
more from the Bible he was anxious to hear. He got out his bit of pencil
and a crumpled twist of paper, and when Mr. Birge announced that he
would read the fourth Psalm, Tode bent forward and carefully and
laboriously made a figure four and the letters S A M in his very best
style, and believed that he had it just right. Then he listened to the
reading as sometimes those do not who can glibly spell the words. Yet
you can hardly conceive how like a strange language it sounded to him,
so utterly unfamiliar was he with the style, so utterly ignorant of its
meaning. Only over the last verse he had almost laughed.

"I will both lay me down in peace and sleep; for thou, Lord, only makest
me dwell in safety."

_Didn't_ he know about that? The awful night, those dreadful eyes, and
the peace in which he laid down and slept at last.

"Oh, ho," he sa