Mr. Bowser was not a man to do anything by halves. When he was worldly, he was worldly out and out, and now that he had broken with the world and entered into the service of God, he took up the business of religion with a thoroughness and ardour that was entirely characteristic. He found himself wofully ignorant of the simplest Scripture truths. Until his conversion, he had not opened his Bible since he left his mother's care. He, therefore, determined to become a scholar. So one Saturday he asked Frank:
"Frank, what is it you do at Sunday school?"
"Well, father, we sing, and pray, and study the Bible, that's about all," answered Frank, wondering to himself what his father had in mind.
"Do any grown-up people go there, Frank?" inquired Mr. Bowser, innocently.
Frank smiled, partly at his father's lack of knowledge, and partly because he thought he caught a glimpse of his purpose.
"Why, of course, father," he exclaimed, "lots of them. Mr. Lloyd goes there, and Mr. Silver, and ten or twelve other gentlemen."
"Does Mr. Lloyd go to Sunday school?" asked Mr. Bowser, eagerly. "Why, what does he do there?"
"He teaches, father. He has charge of the men's Bible class."
"So Mr. Lloyd has a Bible class there," mused Mr. Bowser aloud; then, turning again to Frank, "Do you think, Frank, he would mind if I joined it."
Frank could not help smiling at the idea of Mr. Lloyd being otherwise than glad at having a new member in his class.