“Merciful Father!” Whipple exclaimed, fervently. “Lord have mercy! To think of a man blessed with a son holding the law over his repentant head and chasing him from spot to spot over God's green earth! The child he brought into the world and saw cooing in the cradle, a little, tiny sprout of his own flesh and blood, made in the image of the Lord God of Hosts! My boy,” the old man leaned forward, “shake hands with me. I've often wanted to help young men in my stormy life, but, God knows, I never felt the desire as strong as I do now. Just in this little talk I've been drawn more closely to you than I ever was to a human being before. You are the right sort, the genuine thing; if I was to turn you adrift, I'd never get over it. I had a boy once, and I doted on him. He died when he was a little toddling fellow, and since then I have never been consoled. But his loss, and the memory of him, has warmed my heart to young men wherever I meet them. You must come to me, my boy. I feel sure we'll pull together. In fact, I'd want you at hand, for I'd grieve to see you falter in your noble undertaking. God will bless your effort as sure as the stars are shining up there in the heavens to-night.”
“I haven't told you quite all yet,” Walton added, in a low tone. “To protect myself, I took another name. My real name is—”
“Stop! Don't tell me. That won't make one bit of difference to me,” Whipple answered, with a sigh, as if he were thinking more of the young man's former revelations than the one just made. “No doubt it is best. You say you have determined to make good the loss, and if bearing another name will help you out, then it can't be wrong. Go ahead, I'll be your friend; I'll stick to you. I'm glad we came together to-night. It makes me feel better. I've seen many sorts of human struggles, but I never saw one that touched me down deep like yours does. Wait, let me lock up, and I'll walk along a piece with you.”
Outside, after he had closed the heavy door, the merchant put his hand on the arm of his companion, and they moved on down the street together. Suddenly they paused. Whipple swept his fat hand in a slow gesture toward the skies.
“My boy,” he said, fervently, “this is a wonderful, wonderful old world. Life seems hard and harsh at times, but when the soul is right a man can conquer anything. I have my fight to make; you have yours—stick to it, and may the Lord be with you! Goodnight.”. .