Thus armed for the world's battle, he thought himself almost invulnerable. "I am bound to succeed," he sometimes said to himself. "I have done all that I possibly could do towards that end. I don't believe in chance. 'What a man soweth, that shall he also reap.'"
If ever a youth deserved to succeed, it certainly was Frank Mathers. He had sacrificed many pleasures for the sake of better fitting himself for life's struggle. Often, when his companions invited him to spend an evening in questionable pleasures; "No, he would answer, I have no time for that." At last, they ceased to torment him.
He liked these evenings spent at home, quietly, near the fire, alone with his mother, who sometimes lifted her eyes from her knitting or sewing, and affectionately gazed for a few moments upon her son.
They were nearly always alone, mother and son; for the father, who was a carpenter, spent his evenings in the workshop.
As her son neared his twentieth birthday, Mrs. Mathers felt that she would never live to see it. She was very anxious for her son's future. After all, would he always keep in the path in which he was now walking?
One evening when she felt worse than usual, her anxiousness for her son's welfare rose to such a pitch that she ventured to speak a few words to him.
"Frank," she began, "you know that I am not in very good health."
"Yes, mother."
"I don't think I shall live long," continued she, "and, I should so much like to know if you have formed a decision to be a noble, good, and upright man."
"You are not going to die," said the youth in a half-frightened tone, "you will be better soon, I hope."