“Now, _that_ ain't got nothin' to do with it,” said Harvey irritably. “Don't you interrupt. If your aunt gets to chasin' me all round town an' back, pesterin' me for that money, I might as well give up bein' a saint right now an' go back in the junk business.” “You don't have to be no saint, do you?” asked Lem resentfully. “Yes, I do,” said Harvey. “You don't understand it, but I've been called. I've heard the call; callin' me to be a saint in this land where there ain't no saints. I've heard the call, Lem.” “Where from?” Lem asked. [Illustration: 158] “From heaven; where do you think I'd get it from?” asked Harvey irritably. “The post-office? Do you s'pose it come in a registered letter, with a special delivery stamp on it? That ain't no way a saint gets called. I heard it in my heart, dod-baste it! like any other saint would hear it.” “How long you goin' to be one?” Lem asked dismally. “Why--why, forever. From now on. It ain't no _job_, Lem. It ain't no _business_. It's--it's a way of bein', like an angel is or a--a somethin' or other. When you're a saint you keep on bein' one. Once a saint, always a saint. Saints keep right on bein' saints forever, gettin' holier an' holier, an' workin' for mankind.” “What kind of work do they do?” Lem asked. He had eaten the egg and was eating the crisped bacon--Harvey always had the best bacon. “They don't do no work; not the kind of work you mean,” Harvey said. “They just work to be a saint. They work to be good. Some of 'em has a sort of sideline like I'm goin' to have. I'm goin' to work to be kind to stray dogs.” Lem finished his bacon. His freckled face set in firm resolution. “I'm goin' to stay here an' help you be a saint, pop,” he said. “I'm goin' to be a saint, too. I can be a young one, can't I?” “I'll be eternally dod-basted if--” Harvey began angrily, but he remembered himself. “No, Lem,” he said with forced gentleness, “that ain't in my plans. I can't let you do it. Not now. You 're too young yet. You go back to your aunt an' be a good boy, an' when I get her all paid off an' get you out of pawn, maybe I 'll see about it. After-while. In a year or two, maybe. Just yet awhile I got to suffer alone an' in silence, as you may say. You go back to your aunt like a good boy an' I 'll give you a dollar.” “I want to stay here.” “You can't stay here.” “Lemme see the dollar, then.” Harvey produced a dollar, a big, silver one, and Lem took it. He had not taken off his hat, so he did not have to put it on. “I 'll go back,” he said as he paused at the door, “but I won't stay. She's mean.” Harvey had turned his own egg and bacon on to the plate Lem had just emptied. “She's mean,” Lem repeated. “I don't care what you are; I'd rather be with you, anyway. I'd rather be with you, even if you are a saint.” Harvey had been about to begin on his bacon and eggs, but he paused with his knife and fork suspended. “Lem,” he said. “What?”