The steps and walks had been carefully cleaned and the snow about the place was packed hard by the feet of the curious crowd who had visited the scene earlier in the morning.
Dick looked up and down the street. There was no one in sight. Stepping swiftly to the pile of snow which the janitor had made with his shovel and broom, he began kicking it about with his feet. Suddenly, with an exclamation, he stopped and again glanced quickly around. Then stooping, he picked up a long, leather pocketbook, and turning, walked hurriedly away to the office.
The body was held as long as possible, but when no word could be had as to the poor fellow's identity, he was laid away in a lot purchased by the printer, who also bore the funeral expenses. When Uncle Bobbie would have helped him in this, George answered: "No, this is my work. I found him. Let me do this for his mother's sake."
The funeral was held in the undertaking rooms. Dick Falkner, Uncle Bobbie and his wife, and Clara Wilson, with George, followed the hearse to the cemetery.
To-day, the visitor to Mt. Olive, will read with wonder, the inscription on a simple stone, bearing no name, but telling the story of the young man's death, and followed by these words, "I was a stranger and ye took me not in."
The church people protested loudly when it was known how the grave was to be marked, but George Udell answered that he wanted something from the Bible because the young man was evidently a Christian, and that the text he had selected was the only appropriate one he could find.
The evening after the funeral, Charlie Bowen and Dick sat alone in the reading room, for the hour was late and the others had all gone to their homes. Charlie was speaking of the burial. "I tell you," he said, "it looks mighty hard to see a man laid away by strangers who do not even know his name, and that too, after dying all alone in the snow like a poor dog. And to think that perhaps a mother is watching for him to come home; and the hardest part is that he is only one of many. In a cold snap like this, the amount of suffering among the poor and outcast is something terrible. If only the bad suffered, one might not feel so."
Dick made no reply, but sat staring moodily into the fire.
"I've studied on the matter a good bit lately," continued Charlie.
"Why is it that people are so indifferent to the suffering about them?
Is Udell right when he says that church members, by their own teaching,
prove themselves to be the biggest frauds in the world?"
"He is, so far as the church goes," replied Dick; "but not as regards Christianity. This awful neglect and indifference comes from a lack of Christ's teaching, or rather from a lack of the application of Christ's teaching, and too much teaching of the church. The trouble is that people follow the church and not Christ; they become church members, but not Christians."