"Suppose you don't, does that help the matter any? Does it change the fact that you belong to God; that you are cheating Him out of His own property? The question I ask is, Are you doing right?" Howard stood, with eyes fixed on his slate, saying nothing. "Won't you answer me, Howard?" Mr. Burrows asked gently; "is it right?" And, after a long, long silence, the boy's honest, earnest eyes were raised to his teacher's face, and he spoke steadily: "No, sir." "Are you willing to go on doing wrong?" "No, sir." "Will you turn _now_, Howard, and start right?" Now came another long silence. Howard Minturn, the honest, faithful boy, always getting a little nearer right than any of the others, had been condemned by his own words, and knew not what to say. At last he spoke: "I can't promise, Mr. Burrows." "Howard! such an answer from _you_, to whom I have only needed to point out what was right, in order to have it done!" "But I can't trust myself, sir; I shall not feel to-morrow as I do now." "That is, you feel like doing your duty today, but you expect, if you wait until to-morrow, that you will feel less like it; so you mean to wait. Is that right?" The silence was much longer this time,--so long, that the boys began to look curiously at the two figures over by the desk, and wonder why the bell was not rung. But at last he raised those clear, truthful eyes once more: "Mr. Burrows, I'll try." And the next Thursday evening, when in the house of prayer it was very still, because Mr. Holbrook had just said, "Is there not _one_ here to-night who wants us to pray for him, and if there is, will he not let us know it _now_?" suddenly there was a row of astonished faces in the seat where the schoolboys were sitting, because from among them arose Howard Minturn, and his face was pale and grave, and his voice was steady; they all heard his words: "I want to be a Christian: will you pray for me?" Oh, wouldn't they! Was there ever such another prayer as that which Mr. Minturn offered for his son? Did any one who heard it wonder that such prayer was answered, and that in the next meeting, Howard, speaking with a little ring of joy in his voice, said, "I love Jesus to-night. I want every one to love Him. I am very happy"? From this the work went on. The little lecture-room grew full and overflowed, and the crowd now filled the church; and every night Some new voice was heard, asking for prayer. Will Bailey seemed filled with the spirit of torment; teased the boys unmercifully; went to the meeting every evening, and made fun of it all day: but the boys were praying for him, and God's pitying eye was on him. One evening there were two who arose to ask the prayers of Christians: one was Will Bailey, the most hopeless, so the boys thought, of all the boys in town; the other was Will Bailey's grey-haired father, the most hopeless, so the good men feared, of all the strong, self-satisfied men in town.