give money and have gymnasiums and
moving pictures than to make real proof of partnership with Christ by
personal service and sacrifice. Take your old friend Martin Luther
Shenk, J.W.--do you know that he's working at this very difficulty? And
I hear he's finding, even in the country, that some people will really
give themselves, while others will give only their money and their
time."

J.W. thought of Win-My-Chum week, and how he had had to drive himself to
speak to Marty, so he knew the pastor was right. And he went home with
all sorts of questions running through his mind, but with no very
satisfying answers to make them.

Coming back in a wakeful night to Mr. Drury's casual mention of Marty,
the thought of his chum set him to wondering how that sturdy young
itinerant was making it go on the Ellis and Valencia Circuit, just as
the pastor guessed it might. To wonder was to decide. He would take a
long-desired holiday. A word or two with his father in the morning gave
him the excuse for what he wanted to do. Then he got Valencia on the
long distance, and the operator told him she would find the "Reverend"
Shenk for him in a few minutes. He had started out that morning to visit
along the State Line Highway, as it was part of her business to know. At
the third try Marty was found, and he answered J.W.'s hail with a shout.

After the first exchange of noisy greetings, "Say, Marty, dad's asked me
to run down in your part of the world and look at some new barn
furniture that's been put in around Ellis--ventilators and stanchions
and individual drinking cups for the Holsteins--not like the way we used
to treat the cows on our farm, hey? Well, what do you say if I turn
fashionable for once and come down for the week-end--not this week, but
next?"

No need to ask Marty a question like that. "Come on down. Make it Friday
and I'll show you the sights. We've got something doing at the Ellis
Church, something I want you to see."

Then Marty thought of a few books that he had left at home--"And--hello,
J.W., are you listening? Well, how'd you like to go out to the farm
before you come down here? Jeanette has gathered a bundle of my books,
and I need 'em. Won't you get 'em for me and bring them along?"

Certainly, J.W. would. The farm was home to both the boys, and J.W. was
almost as welcome there as Marty; to one member of the family quite so,
though she had never mentioned it.

On the next Sunday morning J.W. drove out of