“It is a business I don’t intend to go into, so the less said of it the better. So my offer suits you, does it?” “I’ll shake hands on it,” replied Tom, extending his hand. “Wait a moment,” said the deacon, retiring his own right hand to a conservative position behind his back. “If it suits you,” continued the deacon impressively, “you agree to stick to your pledge; no foolin’ with whisky again, mind.” “Nary drop,” said Tom, with great emphasis. “Ten minutes ago I wouldn’t have given a pewter dime for my chance of sticking it out through the day, but now I wouldn’t give a cent for a barr’l full of ten-year-old rye.” “All right, then--shake hands. And we begin to-day--or say to-morrow--there’s lots of bricks wanted to-day--here’s the orders. And may the Lord help you, Thomas--help you to hold out steadfast unto the end. Now I reckon I’ll get home to breakfast.” As the deacon walked off he soliloquized in this manner: “There! I wonder if that’ll suit Crupp an’ Brother Wedgewell? What a queer team them two fellows make! Queer that Crupp should have bothered me two hours Saturday night, an’ the preacher should have come out so strong about bein’ our brothers’ keepers the very next day. ’Twas a Christian act for me to do, too. ‘He that converteth a sinner from the error of his ways’--ah! blessed be the promises. An’ I won’t lose a cent by the operation--_I_ can keep him busy enough. When folks know what I’ve done an’ what I done it for, I guess they’ll think I’ve got my good streaks after all. I declare, I ought to have told him I couldn’t pay for days when he was sick; ’tain’t too late yet, though--he won’t back out on _that_ account. Mebbe I can talk him into j’ining the church, too--who knows, an’ some day in ’xperience meetin’ mebbe he’ll tell how it all came about through me. He must bring his dinners with him when he’s workin’ about the store. I ought to have done that with my clerk before he took to lunchin’ off the crackers and cheese busy days--these little things all cost. But it _does_ make a man feel good to do kindnesses to his fellow-men.” As for Tom Adams, he mounted the wagon, seized the reins, and exclaimed, “By thunder! ’fore I haul a durned brick, I’ll just drive home by the back way and tell the old woman. Reckon she won’t look at me any more in _that_ way then. Like enough he’s right when he says _some_ says mebbe workin’ too hard makes fellows drink. It never got into _my_ head before, though.” As Tom drove through a back street in which Mr. Crupp lived, that worthy stared at the empty wagon inquiringly. “The old man’s engaged me for a year, at six bits a day, and only ten hours a day to work,” shouted Tom in explanation. “The devil!” replied the new reformer, and seizing his hat he hurried off to the Rev. Jonas Wedgewell. The pastor was discovered through an open window at his matutinal repast, and the eager Crupp thrust his head in the window and shouted,