aptain Neil went straight away to Colonel
Leighton, the officer commanding the new regiment to which Captain
Neil's company belonged. To the colonel he gave an enthusiastic report
of the sermon, with Colonel Kavanagh's judgment thereon.

"I would suggest, sir, that you wire Ottawa on the matter," he urged.
"If Colonel Kavanagh thought he had a chance, he would not hesitate. We
really ought to get this fixed. I assure you he's a find."

"Go to it, then, Fraser. I'm rather interested to see your earnest
desire for a chaplain. The Lord knows you need one! Go up to
Headquarters and use my name. Say what you like."

Thus it came that the following day Barry was informed by wire of his
appointment as chaplain of the new regiment of Alberta rangers.

"It's at least a relief to have the matter settled," said his father, to
whom Barry brought his wire. "Barry, I'm glad of the opportunity to tell
you that since yesterday, my mind has undergone considerable change.
I am not sure but that you have found your place and your work in the
war."

"No, dad," answered Barry, "I wasn't responsible for that sermon
yesterday. The war was very near and very real to me. Those boys were
looking up at me, and you were there, dad. You drew that sermon stuff
out of me."

"If once, why not again? At any rate, it greatly rejoiced me to know
that it was there in you. I don't say I was proud of you, my boy. I was
proud of you, but that is not the word that I should like to use. I was
profoundly grateful that I was privileged to hear a sermon like that
from a son of mine. Now, Barry," continued his father, "this is our last
day together for some months, perhaps forever," he added in a low tone.

"Don't, daddy, don't," cried Barry, "I can't bear to think of that
to-day."

"All right, Barry, but why not? It is really far better that we should
face all the possibilities. But now that we have this day--and what a
perfect day it is--for our last day together, what shall we do with it?"

"I know, dad--I think you would wish that we take our ride into the
foothills to-day."

"It was in my mind, my boy. I hesitated to suggest it. So let us go."

It was one of those rare November days that only Alberta knows, mellow
with the warm sun, and yet with a nip in it that suggested the coming
frost, without a ripple of the wind that almost constantly sweeps the
Alberta ranges. In the blue sky hung motionless, like white ships at
sea, bits of cloud. The lon