She came straight to him. What was it that made her regard him as she did. Had she seen, in these last minutes, how much it hurt him to have to pronounce his great effort a failure. She advanced to where he sat, and impulsively bent over and kissed him. As she raised up, both pairs of eyes saw the clock, and both pair of lips murmured: "Eighteen minutes left." And then his lips said: "Yes, sister, eighteen minutes left to raise twenty-five thousand dollars for the Y.M.C.A. for our people." He lowered his head, and sighed long and deeply. She placed her hands about his forehead, and let them slip back over his hair. "My poor brother, my poor brother!" And then, for the first time she observed a package. With womanly curiosity, she inquired: "What is this, Wilson?" and pointed toward it. He sat up quickly as though he had been asleep. "That," he replied, blinking. "Why, I don't know. I declare. I didn't know it was there." He was thoroughly awake now, as well as curious. "Wonder what it is," she said, curiously. "I don't know," he breathed, turning the package over. "And you are sure you didn't put it there?" "Oh, no, but I am curious to know what it contains," and she turned it over, while her face lit with a little smile that was carefree. He saw it, and said: "Why dear, if it will please you, open it as the last thing in the old year." "Oh, brother, that is so nice of you," and she took the knife he handed her, opened it, and quickly cut the strings. A package was enclosed, tied with paper. She pursued the task of cutting strings, and then, as she unwrapped the paper from about it she mused: "Oh, I wonder what it can be!" It was open now, and two pairs of eyes opened their widest, while her voice cried: "Wilson, Wilson! My God! It's money! _It's money to save the Y.M.C.A. for our people!_" Both now regarded the clock. Fifteen minutes was left to reach the Y.M.C.A. building thirteen blocks away! It was she who spoke: "Go brother! In God's name, go!" * * * * * Had it been any other night but the night of December thirty-first, a man who tore wildly down the middle of the street, bareheaded, and with a woman with hair flowing loosely behind her, the officers on duty would surely have made an arrest. But as it was, they only smiled amusedly, as they remarked a new freak of meeting the new year. How little did any feel or know that upon that wild run, depended one hundred thousand dollars for the salvation of thousands of black youth, until the end of time.... The papers carried the account in large headlines the following morning. "REVEREND WILSON JACOBS SPRINGS A COUP "Energetic worker and secretary of the Y.M.C.A. for the colored people raised twenty-five thousand dollars, and completed the condition of the association at two minutes of twelve o'clock last night. Two minutes later, more than seventy-five thousand dollars would have been unavailable for the purpose."