"No, indeed, he wasn't. He was one of the wildest young men, and it was that which brought on the sickness—rheumatic fever—which twisted him up so. It was this illness too, that brought about his conversion; and now he likes to visit the hospitals and talk to all the young men he can find, and try to get them to turn about. He says he's trying to make up for lost time. Some think he's crazy, but he isn't—only eccentric."
"Does he come here often?" asked Harry.
"Well, sometimes he does," was the answer. "Would you like to see him again?"
"I wouldn't mind having a little talk with him," admitted Harry.
"I'll tell him," said the kind woman.
Joel came; but Harry could not tell from his manner whether he was pleased or not at his having expressed a desire to see him.
Now that he was there, what should he say? Harry asked this question, but no answer came.
But Joel seemed to understand all about the matter, and began right away:
"You've had a rough time, eh? Didn't expect it, now, did you, when you started out? Going to have a good time, enjoy yourself, and all that? Well, it's all right. You've had about enough of that sort of thing, I guess. You'd like to turn right about face now, and go back to your mother, perhaps?"
"Who told you I had a mother?" asked Harry, sharply.