the song of
birds, and the chime of church bells, that old Tom Brent's weary spirit
passed out on its search for God. He had not spoken after his talk with
his son.

There were heavy hearts about his bed, but there were no tears, no
sorrow for his death,--only regret for the manner of his life.

Mrs. Hodges and Eliphalet agreed that the dead man had been right in
wishing his son to go away, and, after doing what he could to lighten
their load, he again stood on the threshold, leaving his old sad home.
Mrs. Hodges bade him good-bye at the door, and went back. She was too
bowed to seem hard any more, or even to pretend it. But Eliphalet
followed him to the gate. The two stood holding each other's hands and
gazing into each other's eyes.

"I know you 're a-goin' to do right without me a-tellin' you to," said
the old man, chokingly. "That 's all I want of you. Even ef you don't
preach, you kin live an' work fur Him."

"I shall do all the good I can, Uncle 'Liph, but I shall do it in the
name of poor humanity until I come nearer to Him. I am dazed and
confused now, and want the truth."

"Go on, my boy; you 're safe. You 've got the truth now, only you don't
know it; fur they 's One that says, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto
one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.'"

Another hearty hand-shake, and the young man was gone.

As Fred went down the street, some one accosted him and said, "I hear
yore father 's home."

"Yes, he 's home," said Fred.

Tom Brent was buried on Tuesday morning. The Rev. Mr. Simpson, who, in
spite of his age, had been prevailed upon to resume charge of his
church, preached the sermon. He spoke feelingly of the "dear departed
brother, who, though late, had found acceptance with the Lord," and he
ended with a prayer--which was a shot--for the "departed's misguided
son, who had rejected his Master's call and was now wandering over the
earth in rebellion and sin." It was well that he did not see the face of
Eliphalet Hodges then.

Dan'l Hastings nodded over the sermon. In the back part of the church,
Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Smith whispered together and gaped at the two old
mourners, and wondered where the boy was. They had "heerd he was in
town."

Bill Tompkins brought Elizabeth to the funeral.

CHAPTER XVII

In another town than Dexter the events narrated in the last chapter
would have proved a nine days' wonder, gained their meed of golden
gossip, and then given way to