[Illustration: God's world _did_ look bigger and greater from The Overlook. (See page 155.)] In the northwest frowned the half-ruined fortress, so heroic a landmark of pre-Revolutionary times. Nearer lay the wooded, rocky isle where a celebrated Indian chief had made his last stand against the encroaching whites. Yonder was the spot where certain of those bold pioneers and fighters, the Green Mountain Boys, embarked under their famous leaders, Allen and Warner, upon an expedition that historians will never cease to write of. It was a noble, as well as a beautiful, view. God's world _did_ look bigger and greater from The Overlook. Sitting by her side, the minister held the girl's hand, and listened to her artless expressions. She told him quite frankly what all this view meant to her,--how it helped and soothed her worried spirit, brought comfort to her grieving heart. Here were many square miles of God's Footstool under her gaze; and there were many, many thousands of other spots like this between her and the Mexican mountains in which her father was held a prisoner. And God had the same care over one bit of landscape as he did over another! "Then," she said, softly, in conclusion, "then I just seem to grasp the idea of God's _bigness_--and how much He has to do. I won't complain. I'll wait. And meanwhile I'll do, if I can, what Daddy told me to." "What is that, Janice?" asked the minister, still gazing out over the vast outlook himself. "I must _do something_,--keep to work, you know. Try and make things better. You know: 'Each in his small corner.' And there's so much to be done in Poketown!" "So much--in Poketown?" ejaculated the minister, suddenly brought out of his reverie. "Yes, sir." "But I thought Poketown was a particularly satisfactory place. There really is very little to do here. We have a very clean political government, remarkably so. Of course, that fact would not so much interest you, Janice. But the life of the church is very spiritual--very. We have no saloons; we seldom have an arrest----" "Oh, I never thought of those things," admitted Janice. "There isn't really anything for young people to do in the Poketown Church, I know. But outside----" "And what can be done outside?" asked the minister, and perhaps he winced a little at the confidence in Janice's voice when she spoke of the church system which kept the young people at a distance. "Why, you know, there are the boys. Boys like Marty--my cousin. He goes to school now, it's true; but he's down town just as much as ever at night. And there's no good place for the boys to go--to congregate, I mean." "Humph! I thought once of opening the church basement to them," murmured Mr. Middler. "But--but there was opposition. Some thought the boys might take advantage of our good nature and be ill-behaved."