rk of the world.

Roderick caught the blanket off the horse, and as he did so his arm
gave a sudden, sharp twinge. His face twisted.

"Is it the old pain in your arm, Roderick, my son?" his father asked
anxiously.

"It's nothing," said the Lad lightly. "It'll be all right to-morrow."

"You should see a doctor," admonished his father. "There will be great
doctors in Montreal."

"Perhaps I shall," said the boy. "Now, Father, don't stand there in
the cold!" He caught the old man's hand in both his. "Father!" he
cried sharply. "I--oh--I feel I shouldn't leave you!"

"Hoots, toots, Lad!" The man clapped him upon the back comfortingly.
"You must not be saying that whatever. Indeed it's a poor father I
would be to want you always by me. No, no, you must go, but Roderick--"

"Yes, Father."

The old man's face was pale and intense. "You will not be leaving the
Heavenly Father. Oh mind, mind and hold to Him!"

Roderick pressed his hand, and felt for the first time something of the
utter bitterness of that road to success. "I'll try, Father," he
faltered. "Oh, I will!"

He sprang into the cutter and took the lines, the old man put his hands
for a moment on the Lad's bowed head praying for a blessing upon him,
and then the horse dashed out of the gate and away down the lane. At
the turn Roderick looked back. His father was standing on the snowy
threshold where he had left him, waving his cap. A yellow gleam of
wintry sunlight through ragged clouds lit up his face, the wind
fluttered his old coat and his silver hair, and, standing there in his
loneliness, he was making a desperate attempt at a smile that had more
anguish in it than a rain of tears.

Roderick drove swiftly down the snowy road, his eyes blinded. For one
moment he hated success and money and fame and would have thrown them
all away to be able to go back to his father. Well he knew the parting
was more, far more than a temporal leave-taking. It was a departure
from the old paths where his father had taught him to walk.

As he sped along, his head down, he did not see a figure on the road
ahead of him. He was almost upon it when he suddenly jerked his horse
out of the way. It was Old Peter. Evidently he had drunk just enough
to make him tremendously polite. He stepped to the side of the road
and bowed profoundly.

Roderick made an attempt to pull up his horse and say good-bye. A
sudden impulse to take Peter home to his father seiz