countless other such opportunities as this must be wasted because he
should not be there to play his part. But there was still time to do
something; he need not see, as with the girl and with love, the fine
possibilities go utterly to waste.

The mother had noticed a warm light steal over his face, not realizing
how closely his thoughts concerned her own future; she had seen the
sabre cut of pain which had followed his thought of the girl and what
she might have meant, knowing nothing of that grim tragedy. Now she
saw his eyes clear as with their inspired light they were lifted to
her. Yet the talk went on uninterruptedly on the same commonplace
level.

"How old was Jim?"

"He was within a week of thirty."

That was within a few days of his own age. At thirty, Jim Wentworth,
clinging to life, had been wrenched from it; at thirty, he himself had
thrown it away. Wentworth had shouldered his duties manfully; he had
been blind to them. But it was not too late to do something. He was
being led as by Marley's ghost to one new vision of life after another.
He saw love--with death grinning over love's shoulder; he was to be
given a taste of fatherhood,--the grave at his feet.

"Do you ever hear from the people back home?" he asked abruptly.

"Not very often," she answered. "After the old folks went I sorter got
out of tech with the others."

"What became of the homestead?"

"It was sold little by little when father was sick. When he died there
was n't much left. That went to pay the debts."

"Who lives there now?"

"Let me see--I don't think any one is there now. Last I heard, it was
fer sale."

"Who holds it?"

"Deacon Staples. Leastways it was him who held the notes."

"That old pirate? No wonder there was n't anything left."

"He _was_ a leetle hard," she admitted. "I wanted Jim to go back an'
take it after father died, but he couldn't seem to make a deal with the
deacon."

"I s'pose not. No one this side of the devil himself will ever make a
square deal with him. He 's still as strong in the church as ever?"

She smiled.

"I see by the Berringdon paper that he begun some revival meetin's in
town."

"Which means he 's just put through some particularly thievish deal and
wants to ease his conscience. Have you the paper? Perhaps the sale is
advertised there."

She found the paper and ran a finger down the columns until she came to
the item.

"Makes you feel sort of queer," she sa