f Dick Willis, one of the many boys his
grandfather had befriended and taken into the shelter of his home for
awhile. Dick had lived five years in the old house that had just
burned, when Eunice and Sally Macklin were children; and all the
stories of their school days were full of their foster-brother's
mischievous sayings and doings.

That the harum-scarum boy had given place to this middle-aged,
successful business man, with the deep voice and big whiskers, was
hard for Alec to realize, for in all Miss Eunice's reminiscences he
had kept the perennial prankishness of youth. But now Alec,
listening, learned the changes that had taken place since the man's
last visit to his home. He had thought every year that he would come
back for another visit, he told Miss Eunice, but he had put it off
from season to season, hard pressed by the demands of business, and
now it was too late for him to ever see the old homestead again. He
had seen an account of the fire in a paper which he read on the train
on his way East, and he decided to stop his journey long enough to
run over to the old place for a few hours, and see if she did not
need his help. He wanted her to feel that he stood ready to give it
to the extent of his power, and expected her to call upon him as
freely as if he were a real brother.

Then it was that Miss Eunice's tremulous voice exclaimed again: "The
Lord has certainly sent you, Dick! I have been worried for weeks over
Alec's future. There is no outlook here in the village for him. If
you could only get him a position somewhere--" She paused, the tears
in her eyes. Alec listened breathlessly for his answer.

"Why didn't you write me before this, Eunice? My business, travelling
for a wholesale shoe house, takes me over a wide territory and gives
me a large acquaintance. I am sure that I can get him into something
or other very soon. You know that I would do anything for Sally's
boy, and when you add to that the fact that he is Alexander Macklin's
grandson, and I owe everything I am under heaven to that man, you may
know that I'd leave no stone unturned to repay a little of his
kindness to me."

Alec's heart gave a great throb of hope. The good cheer of the hearty
voice inspired him with a courage he had not felt in weeks. There was
a patter of bare feet down the garden path, and, peering out between
the vines, Alec saw one of the neighbour's boys coming in with a big
dish covered carefully with a napkin.

"I