Mrs. Morgan knew how to laugh as well as to cry over her boy.  “I’ve heard of people smart enough to set the river on fire,” she said, “but you are the first one I ever knew who went in there after the coals.”

The next morning came a delegation of the boys, with Dick Osgood at their head.  Every one was there who had seen the blow which Dick struck, and heard his taunts afterward.  They came into the sitting room, and said their say to Guy before his mother.  Dick was spokesman.

“I have come,” he said, “to ask you to forgive me.  I struck you a mean, unjustifiable blow.  You received it with noble contempt.  To provoke you into fighting, I called you a coward, meaning to bring you down by some means to my own level.  You bore that, too, with a greatness I was not great enough to understand; but I do understand it now.

“I have seen you—­all we boys have seen you—­face to face with Death, and have seen that you were not afraid of him.  You fought with him, and came off ahead; and we all are come to do honor to the bravest boy in town; and I to thank you for a life a great deal dearer and better worth saving than my own.”

Dick broke down just there, for the tears choked him.

Guy was as grand in his forgiveness as he had been in his forbearance.

Hetty and her father and mother came afterward, and Guy found himself a hero before he knew it.  But none of it all moved him as did his mother’s few fond words, and the pride in her joyful eyes.  He had kept, with honor and with peace, his pledge to her, and he had his reward.  The Master’s way of peace had not missed him.

[Illustration]

LYMAN DEAN’S TESTIMONIALS

I do not believe two more excellent people could be found than Gideon Randal and his wife.  To lift the fallen and to minister to the destitute was their constant habit and delight.  They often sacrificed their own comforts for the benefit of others.  In vain their friends protested at this course; Gideon Randal’s unfailing reply was:—­

“I think there’s enough left to carry Martha and me through life, and some besides.  What we give to the poor, we lend to the Lord, and if a dark day comes, He will provide.”

The “dark day” came; but it was not until he had reached the age of three score and ten years.  As old age came upon him, and his little farm became less productive, debts accumulated.  Being forced to raise money, he had borrowed a thousand dollars of Esquire Harrington, giving him a mortgage on his home for security.  But as the interest was regularly paid, his creditor was well satisfied.  However, Mr. Harrington died suddenly, and his son, a merciless, grasping man, wrote Mr. Randal, demanding payment of the mortgage.

Vainly did the old man plead for an extension of time.  The demand was pressed to such an extent that it even become a threat to deprive him of his home unless payment were made within a given time.