Samuel went back in great excitement to the Stedmans', to tell them of
his good fortune. And the family sat about in a circle and listened to
the recital in open-eyed amazement. It was a wonderful thing to have an
adventurer like Samuel in one's house!
But the boy noticed that Sophie did not seem as much excited as he had
anticipated. She sat with her head resting in her hands. And when the
others had left the room--“Oh, Samuel,” she said. “I feel so badly
to-day! I don't see how I'm going to go on.”
“Listen, Sophie,” he said quickly. “That's one of the first things I
thought about--I can give you a chance now.”
“How do you mean?”
“I can get Dr. Vince to help you find some better work.”
“Did he say he would?” asked the child.
“No,” was the reply--“but he is so good to everyone. And all the rich
people go to his church, you know. He said he wanted me to help him; so
I shall find out things like that for him to do.”
And Samuel went on, pouring out his praises of the kind and gentle
clergyman, and striving to interest Sophie by his pictures of the
new world that was to open before her. “I'm going to see him again
to-morrow,” he said. “Then you'll see.”
“Samuel,” announced the doctor when he called the next morning, “I have
found a chance for you.” And Samuel's heart gave a great leap of joy.
It appeared that the sexton of St. Matthew's was growing old. They did
not wish to change, but there must be some one to help him. The pay
would not be high; but he would have a chance to work in the church, and
to be near his benefactor. The tears of gratitude started into his eyes
as he heard this wonderful piece of news.
“I'll see more of Miss Gladys!” the voice within him was whispering
eagerly.
“Doctor,” he said after a pause, “I've some good news for you also.”
“What is it?” asked the other.
“It's a chance for you to help some one.”
“Oh!” said the doctor.
“It's little Sophie Stedman,” said Samuel; and he went on to tell how he
had met the widow, and about her long struggle with starvation, and then
of Sophie's experiences in the cotton mill.
“But what do you want me to do?” asked the other, with a troubled look.
“Why,” said Samuel, “we must save her. We must find her some work that
will not kill her.”
“But, Samuel!” protested the other. “There are so many in her
position--and how can I help it?”
“But, doctor! She can't stand it!”
“I know, my boy. It is a terrible thing to think of. Still, I can't
undertake to find work for everyone.”
“But she will die!” cried the boy. “Truly, it is killing her! And,
doctor, she has never had a chance in all her life! Only think--how
would you feel if Ethel had to work in a cotton mill?”
There was a pause. “I honestly can't see--” began the bewildered
clergyman.
“It will be quite easy for you to help her,” put in the boy; “because,
you see, Mr. Wygant belongs to your church!”
“But what has that to do with it?”
“Why--it's Mr. Wygant's mill that she works in.”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “But--I---”
“Surely,” exclaimed Samuel, “you don't mean that he wouldn't want to
know about it!”
“Ahem!” said the other; and again there was a pause.
It was broken by Ethel, who had come in and was listening to the
conversation. “Papa!” she exclaimed, “wouldn't Miss Gladys be the one to
ask?”
Samuel gave a start. “The very thing!” he said.
And Dr. Vince, after pondering for a moment, admitted that it might be a
good idea.
“You will come to church with me to-morrow,” said Ethel. “And if she is
there we'll ask her.”
And so Samuel was on hand, trembling with excitement, and painfully
conscious of his green and purple necktie. He sat in the Vince's pew,
at Ethel's invitation; and directly across the aisle was Miss Wygant,
miraculously resplendent in a springtime costume, yet with a touch of
primness, becoming to the Sabbath. She did not see her adorer until
after the service, when they met face to face.
“Why, Samuel!” she exclaimed. “You are here?”
“Yes, Miss Gladys,” he said. “I'm to work in the church now.”
“You don't tell me!” she responded.
“I'm to help the sexton,” he added.
“And he belongs to the church, too,” put in little Ethel. “And oh, Miss
Gladys, won't you please let him tell you about Sophie!”
“About Sophie?” said the other.
“She's a little girl who works in your papa's mill, Miss Gladys. And her
family's very poor, and she is sick, and Samuel says she may die.”
“Why, that's too bad!” exclaimed Miss Gladys. “Tell me about her,
Samuel.”
And Samuel told the story. At the end a sudden inspiration came to him,
and he mentioned how Sophie had received her Christmas present from Miss
Gladys, and how she had kept her pictures in her room.
And, of course, Miss Wygant was touched. “I will see what I can do for
her,” she said. “What would you suggest?”
“I thought,” said he boldly, “that maybe there might be some place for
her at your home. That would make her so happy, you know.”
“I will see,” said the other. “Will you bring her to see me to-morrow,
Samuel?”
“I will,” said he; and then he chanced to look into her face, and he
caught again that piercing gaze which made the blood leap into his
cheeks, and the strange and terrible emotions to stir in him. He turned
his eyes away again, and his knees were trembling as he passed on down
the aisle.
He stood and watched Miss Gladys enter her motor. Then he bade good-by
to Ethel and her mother, and hurried back into the vestry room to tell
Dr. Vince of his good fortune.
The good doctor had just slipped out of his vestments, and was putting
on his cuffs. “I am so glad to hear it!” he said. “It was the very thing
to do!”
“Yes,” said Samuel. “And, doctor, I've thought of something else.”
“What is that, Samuel?”
“I'll have to have a minute or two to tell you about it.”
“I'm just going to dinner now”--began the doctor.
“I'll walk with you, if I may,” said Samuel. “It's really very
important.”
“All right,” responded the doctor in some trepidation.
“I thought of this in the middle of the night,” explained the boy,
when they had started down the street. “It kept me awake for hours. Dr.
Vince, I think we ought to convert Master Albert Lockman!”
“Convert him?” echoed the other perplexed.
“Yes, sir,” said the boy. “He is leading a wild life, and he's in a very
bad way.”
“Yes, Samuel,” said the clergyman. “It is terrible, I know--”
“We must labor with him!” exclaimed Samuel. “He must not be allowed to
go on like that!”
“Unfortunately,” said Dr. Vince hastily, “it wouldn't do for me to try
it. You see, the Lockmans have always been Presbyterians, and so Bertie
is under Dr. Handy's care.”
“But is Dr. Handy doing anything about it?” persisted the other.
“I really don't know, Samuel.”
“Because if he isn't, we ought to, Dr. Vince! Something must be done.”
“My boy,” said the doctor, “perhaps it wouldn't be easy for you to
understand it. But there is a feeling--would it be quite good taste for
me to try to take away a very rich parishioner from another church?”
“But what have his riches to do with it?” asked the boy.
“Unfortunately, Samuel, it costs money to build churches; and most
clergymen are dependent upon their salaries, you know.”
The good doctor was trying to make a jest of it; but Samuel was in
deadly earnest. “I hope,” he said, “that you are not dependent upon the
money of anyone like Master Albert.”
“Um--no,” said the doctor quickly.
“Understand me, please,” went on the other. “It's not simply that Master
Albert is wrecking his own life. I suppose that's his right, if he wants
to. But it's what he can do to other people! It's his money, Dr. Vince!
Just think of it, he has seven hundred thousand dollars a year! And
he never earned a cent of it; and he doesn't know what to do with it!
Doctor, you KNOW that isn't right!”
“No,” said the clergyman, “it's very wrong indeed. But what can you do
about it?”
“I don't know, doctor. I haven't had time to think about it--I've only
just begun to realize it. But I thought if somebody like yourself--some
one he respects--could point it out to him, he might use his money to
some good purpose. If he won't, why then he ought to give it up.”
The other smiled. “I'm afraid, Samuel, he'd hardly do that!”
“But, doctor, things can't go on as they are! Right here in this town
are people dying of starvation. And he has seven hundred thousand
dollars a year! Can that continue?”
“No, I trust not, my boy. It will be better some day. But it must be
left to evolution--”
“Evolution!” echoed Samuel perplexed. “Do you believe in evolution?”
“Why,” said the other embarrassed--“what I mean is, that there are vast
social forces at work--great changes taking place. But they move very
slowly--”
“But why do they move so slowly?” objected the boy. “Isn't it just
because so many people, don't care?”
“Why, Samuel--”
“If everyone would take an interest in them--then they would happen
quickly!”
The two walked on for a minute in silence. Finally, the clergyman
remarked, “Samuel, you take a great interest in social questions.”
“Yes, sir,” said the boy. “You see, I have been down at the bottom, and
I know how it feels. Nobody else can possibly understand--not even you,
sir, with all your kind heart. You don't know what it means, sir--you
don't know what it means!”
“Perhaps not, my boy,” said the other. “But my conscience is far from
easy, I assure you. The only thing is, we must not be too impatient--we
must learn to wait--”
“But, doctor!” exclaimed Samuel. “Will the people wait to starve?”
That question was a poser; and perhaps it was just as well that Dr.
Vince was nearing the steps of his home. “I must go in now, Samuel,” he
said. “But we will talk about these questions another time.”
“Yes, sir,” said Samuel, “we will.”
And the other glanced at him quickly. But the boy's face wore its old
look of guileless eagerness.