"Now 'Dodd,'" said Mr. Bright, speaking to the boy for the first time since he had called him back in the school room, "tell me about this."

"Dodd" hesitated a minute, eyeing his teacher defiantly, and finally grumbled:

"I have not got anything to tell."

At this the parson came very near going off into another paroxysm, but a look from Mr. Bright checked him, and be sank back into his chair, almost in collapse.

Then Mr. Bright spoke, directing all his attention to "Dodd."

"My boy," he said, "it is useless for either of us to go over what has been said and done in the last hour or two. I need not tell, nor need I ask you to tell, how thoroughly outrageous your conduct has been.

But I want to say this to you right here: I want you to steady yourself right down as soon as you can and get to thinking reasonably about this matter. There is only one thing that I am afraid of in this affair, and that is that it will result in great loss to you, if you are not careful. You have insulted your fellow students, you have defied the reasonable authority of the school, and you have lied to your parents.

I don't care anything about what you have done to me, or said about me--let that go; but I do care about the other things, and I am anxious to have you make them right as soon as possible, before it is too late."

You know, good people, that when a bone is broken, the thing that needs to be done is to set it as soon as possible; if it is left out of place very long, it is ten times as hard to put it right again as it would have been at first, and, even if set at last, it is apt to grow together imperfectly, or perhaps make a crooked limb ever after. The sooner a fault is redressed, the better for all parties to it.

"So now I have this to say to you," Mr. Bright went on:

"I don't want you to drop out of school on account of this occurrence.

This is what you are in danger of doing, and it is the very thing you ought not to do. You have been doing well in your work for a good while now, and you can't afford to let this affair break you off."

"Well, I guess it won't hurt anybody but myself, and that is my own business," said "Dodd" sulkily.

Off, away off as yet. Drawn, but unwilling to come. Seeing, knowing what he should do, but, ruled by some rebellious devil, persistently turning away and doing the other thing. It is the way of perverse human nature. Call it "total depravity," "original sin," "infirmity,"

"the natural man," I don't care what, only this--recognize the condition and deal with it, when you come squarely up against it, so that it will not ruin its victim.

"The very thing I am fearing," returned Mr. Bright. "In one sense it is n.o.body's business but your own what becomes of you; in another sense, it is the business of a great many. Young man, I tell you again to get out of your present defiant mood as soon as you can. I know that your life for the past few months has had more of genuine enjoyment for you than you have experienced for years previous to this time. I don't say this boastfully, I say it thankfully. And what I am anxious for is to have you keep going in the same way. Just think it over, and see what there is before you. On the one hand, a return to your place in school, and with that a continuation of all that you have so much cared for; on the other hand--but I leave that for you to think out. There are two ways right here, and you must choose which one you will take."

"Well, what have I got to do if I go back?" asked "Dodd," yielding ever so little.

"You must apologize to the school for your conduct and pledge to your fellow students your word of honor that hereafter you will behave like a gentleman."

"Dodd" gave his head an angry toss and was about to speak when the parson sprang to his feet, and, rushing across the room, shouted:

"He shall do it, or I will disown him, and he shall never enter my house again, but shall be--"

"Sit down, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Bright, almost forcing the distracted parson into his chair. Mr. Weaver sat down and was silent.

Mr. Bright proceeded:

"So now, my boy, here it is for you to choose, and you must use your own judgment about it." But "Dodd" looked down and said nothing.

It was a critical moment. A soul was at stake, and fiends and angels were striving together for it. Mr. Bright was the captain of the heavenly host, and devoutly he stood, waiting the issue.

There are no rules laid down in the machine guide books that lead up to this high estate, nor does the machine manager care so much for marshaling angelic forces as he does about controlling the election of a member of the board from the --th ward.

As Mr. Bright spoke his last words a silence fell upon the group. The father sat with his hands over his face, "Dodd" gazed at the carpet, and the school teacher bowed his head reverently. For nearly a minute this impressive calm brooded over all. Then Mr. Bright felt in his soul that the tide was turned in his favor. He advanced towards "Dodd"

and extended his hand.

"Come!" he said.

The boy did not raise his eyes, but he did lift his hand, just a little--only a little--and Mr. Bright grasped it with all the fervor of his thankful soul. He drew "Dodd" towards him, and he arose, hesitatingly. They walked out of the room hand in hand, nor did they break their clasp till they reached the school-room. When people are too weak or too timid to go alone they musk be led; yes, sometimes they must be carried! But, led or carried, the point always to keep in mind is this, that the nearly dead are to be made alive again, the lost are to be found.

And this is the test that must be set over against all systems and inst.i.tutions that have to deal with unformed characters. The everlasting question must be put again and again, does this, that or the other save, find, restore, or benefit the individuals that come under its influence? Whatever does this, is good; whatever fails to do this is not good. It is fair to ask what the machine does in this regard!

CHAPTER XVI.

It was a trying time for both "Dodd" and Mr. Bright as they walked together, hand in hand, towards the school-house. The trouble was that neither of them could say anything. Mr. Bright felt that words might only mar the matter, and "Dodd" was too busy thinking of what was just before him, to say a word. The master realized the situation, and counted their steps, almost, as they walked along.

Presently he felt "Dodd's" hand working nervously in his own, as if to break their clasp. His heart sank, but, inspired by that same power which had so often come to him in an emergency, he said:

"What is it 'Dodd'?"

"I can't apologize," returned the boy; "I don't know what to say," and his lips trembled as he spoke, while tears welled from his eyes.

How many things there are that interpose between us and our duty! You have found it so in your own experience, haven't you, my friend?

"Say that you did wrong this morning; that you are sorry for what you did; that you apologize for your action, and that you pledge your word of honor to your fellows that you will be a gentleman in school in future," said Mr. Bright.

The nervousness was no longer in the hand, and both "Dodd" and Mr.

Bright felt that they were about to win in the strife. They quickened their steps, and were shortly in the school room.

But there was a trial yet, and one that I fear would have been insurmountable for a good many of us, brave men and women though we think we are.

As teacher and pupil entered the room they discovered the three members of the board of education seated upon the platform. One of the number had heard the story told by the boy in the postoffice, and had hastened to make up his mind that "Dodd" should be expelled from school. He hurried to see the other members, and for the first time since Mr.

Bright had been in charge of the Emburg school, this educational triumvirate appeared, in a body, in his school room. Their presence was exceedingly annoying, just at this moment--the very time when they should have kept their hands off. But this is apt to be the way with boards of education in towns of the Emburg stripe.

I ought to take room, just here, too, to say that the president of the board was really glad that an issue had come, and that they could now rid the school of Parson Weaver's boy. The fact is, this man was deacon in a church of a denomination other than that to which the parson belonged, and the rivalry between the two sects had been brisk, not to say thoroughly bitter and almost mean, for a long time.

Anything that would disgrace the family of the pastor of the opposing church would weaken the influence of the church itself, and the same would redound to the glory of the church in which the deacon officiated. I grant that this is a side issue, but side issues are often of more moment, in cases like this, than are main issues.

As "Dodd" and Mr. Bright came in, the deacon rose to meet them. The school was already in order, and "Dodd" went on to his seat. Mr.

Bright turned to his own desk to meet the advancing president of the board.

"Can we have a word with you, before school takes up?" said the deacon, drawing down the corners of his mouth and looking particularly pious and exceedingly virtuous, as he thought.

"Wait a few minutes," replied Mr. Bright, crowding past the man in the effort to reach his desk.

"But we prefer to speak to you now," urged the president. "The matter is very pressing."

"I will attend to it presently," answered Mr. Bright, and then, ignoring the dignitary who addressed him, he turned to the school and said:

"Before we begin the regular work of the afternoon, 'Dodd' Weaver has a word to say."

A deep silence fell upon the school at these words. The pupils all seemed to feel that they stood in the presence of a great strife. One naturally holds his breath under such circ.u.mstances.

Then "Dodd" stood up in his place, and the latent manhood, that had long lain dormant within him, a.s.serted itself. In a clear though somewhat subdued voice, he said: