“Dear brother,” he said, “I want you to know how glad I am that you gave that confession and testimony this morning. Aside from your own part in it, and the joy you have set ringing in heaven over a sinner that repents, you did more in that brief confession to show my people what sin and true repentance means, and what the communion service stands for, than I could have done in a year of sermons. I’ve come over to congratulate you on your new birth, my boy, and to offer my services in any way I can be a help to you in the further reconstruction of your life, and the hard things you have to meet from your past.”
There with the minister and Mrs. Summers, while the dinner waited in the fireless cooker, Murray told them his story. Briefly, with very few details of his home, beyond the fact of his name, and that he had been the means of killing a girl in an automobile accident, and had run away from justice to protect the family name from being dragged through the criminal courts.
“But I’m going back at once,” he said firmly. “It was all as plain as day to me while I sat in the service this morning. I asked God to show me what to do next, and that was what He seemed to tell me. I’m afraid I made a mess of your service, not understanding just what came next and where would be the proper time to interrupt you. But I just couldn’t go on and take that communion with that on my soul!”
“You did right, brother, I’m glad you did just what you did,” said Doctor Harrison sincerely.
“Well, I’ve got to make everything clean and clear, and then I don’t care what comes to me. I’ll have to suffer the penalty of the law, of course, that’s right, but now I know I’m not going into it alone. I’ve got to go to the girl’s mother and confess and ask her forgiveness, and then I’m going to give myself up. It’s the only right thing, of course. I ought to have seen that before. But first I’ve got to hunt up that Allan Murray, and make things right with him while I’m free. And that reminds me. Mrs. Summers, there’s a letter upstairs among those you laid on my bureau that seems to be from him. I’ll run up and get it.”
He was gone up the stairs with a bound, and the minister sat and smiled at Mrs. Summers indulgently.
“Well, Mrs. Summers, he’s a dear boy, isn’t he? And our Lord is a wonderful God. He worketh mighty miracles and wonders. Now, I wonder what can have become of that man Murray! I feel responsible for him. I wrote his pastor that he was here, and he was all they had said he was and more. I wonder if we shall like the real man as much as his substitute?”
“I wonder!” said Mrs. Summers sadly. She was looking ahead and knowing that this boy, too, she must give up.
Murray came down with the letter, and Mrs. Summers tore it open and read it aloud:
“My Dear Mrs. Summers: