his earth?" asked Cameron
sharply.

"Because _I_ have," said the astonishing young man quite as if he were
saying he were related to the President or something like that.

"You have! How did you get to know Him?"

"Through that little book and by following its teachings."

Cameron turned over the pages again, catching familiar phrases here and
there as he had heard them sometimes in Sunday school years ago.

"You said something about a promise. What was it?"

"That you'll carry the book with you always, and read at least a verse in
it every day."

"Well, that doesn't sound hard," mused Cameron. "I guess I could stand
for that."

"The book is yours, then. Would you like to put your name to that
acceptance card in the front of the book?"

"What's that?" asked Cameron sharply as if he had discovered the fly in
the ointment for which he had all along been suspicious.

"Well, I call it the first step in knowing God. It's your act of
acceptance of the way God has planned for you to be forgiven and saved
from sin. If you sign that you say you will accept Christ as your
Saviour."

"But suppose you don't believe in Christ? I can't commit myself to
anything like that till I know about it?"

"Well, you see, that's the first move in getting to know God," said the
stranger with a smile. "God says he wants you to believe in his Son. He
asks that much of you if you want to get to know Him."

Cameron looked at him with bewildered interest. Was here a possible
answer to the questions of his heart. Why did this curious boy have a
light in his face that never came from earth or air? What was there about
his simple earnestness that was so convincing?

Another crap game had started up on the other side of them. A musically
inclined private was playing ragtime on the piano, and another was trying
to accompany him on the banjo. The air was hazier than ever. It seemed
strange to be talking of such things in these surroundings:

"Let's get out of here and walk!" said Cameron, "I'd like to understand
what you mean."

For two hours they tramped across the frozen ground and talked, arguing
this way and that, much drawn toward one another. At last in the solemn
background of a wall of whispering pines that shut them away from the
stark gray rows of barracks, Cameron took out his fountain pen and with
his foot on a prone log, opened the little book on his knee and wrote his
name and the date. Then he put it in his breast pocket w