He was morose with his mates, and withdrew from their company as much as possible. He shared the supper beer with Jane, but he constantly spoke sharply to her and especially resented the least inattention to Harry's wants, so that it seemed as if the two had changed places, and now it was Jim who found fault and Jane who, aided by that secret object in her mind, took it quietly and made the best of things. To Harry, Jim was never cross, but the child felt a difference, and missed the companionship Jim had given him, for now Jim either called in at the public-house on his way home from work, or, returning early, went out immediately after supper, and he ceased to take an interest in the Mission Service or in Harry's singing. Jim was bitterly disappointed with himself. He had been trying to be good like his little sister Nellie, to be good enough to meet her in Heaven, and now he had been tricked into doing what he had no intention of doing, and the old liking had come back with the old taste. He had emptied the rest of that can of beer with real relish, for in his anger he had carried it away to finish it with his dinner, and in that finishing of it, he had gone under to the old temptation. He had fought and failed. If, in his anger at the base trickery of his mates, he had dashed the can of beer on the ground, he would not have despised himself, he could have forgiven himself; but he knew perfectly well that, even as the unexpected liquid poured down his throat, and he realised what it was, he had made up his mind to finish it, come what might. He said to himself moodily that men and the devil had combined against him, and what was the use of fighting any more? He only hoped that Tom would not guess. He knew Tom would be disappointed in him, and he avoided seeing him if he was able. Besides, he knew all Tom could say to him, but he did not mean to try to be a teetotaller again. And Tom did guess. But he said nothing, for with his wise, kind eyes he saw that the time had not come, only, as he went to and from his work, many an earnest prayer went up from Tom's heart that Jim might try again, not this time in his own strength, but in the strength of that One who had died to redeem him from all iniquity; that he might one day say, "I will go forth in the strength of the Lord God." So Tom came and went to Jim's home as regularly as ever on a Saturday, and took Harry out with him. Though he seldom found Jim in, and the very sight of Jane and the sound of her voice, brought back the shiver to his heart that had come to it when he knew she had seen and spoken to Pattie, yet he persevered in coming for the child. If things were not going too well with Jim, little Harry needed the more love and guardianship, for was not this a little life that must one day grow to good or to evil?