"Your work will be entirely about the house and barns," he said, "and there will be nothing you cannot easily learn to do. What I want is to have some one at the farm when I am away, who I know is thoroughly trustworthy, and who will see that everything is kept up in proper order. You may go to just as many meetings as you please, as long as your duties are not neglected; and we'll give you every opportunity to read and study that is possible. I'm willing to pay you well for the work, say twenty-five dollars a month, for eight months, to begin as soon as you can get away from the mill. Are you willing to come?" Willing? Wasn't it for just such an opportunity that he had for weeks been praying? And with a thankful heart he accepted the position, to begin two weeks from that very day, as he could not get away from the mill before that. But what amazed him most was the compensation offered; and it was not until years after that he knew that Mr. Jacob Woodhull had added an extra five dollars to each month's pay, it being _one_ of the ways that the eccentric old man had taken to see "that that boy lost nothing by settling up his old scores with him"; and there were _others_ to follow. After the lad had gone, the two men spent some time planning for his farther advancement just as fast as he should prove worthy of it, and they did it with a heartiness that showed a deep interest in him already awakened in their hearts. Had either one of them been asked to account for this interest, he would have softly repeated the Master's words: "Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward." It was the Master's work, and done for the Master's sake. CHAPTER VI. LONG POINT FARM. Owensett Bay, at the head of which the town of Afton stood, was a beautiful sheet of water. It was six or eight miles long, and three to four miles broad, and for the most part comparatively regular in the curvature of its shores. On the east side, however, there was one marked exception, as about five miles down the bay a point of land, nearly a mile long, and half as broad, jutted directly out into the water. This point of land was owned by Mr. George Woodhull, and formed what was known in the neighborhood as "Long Point Farm." Mr. Woodhull had inherited the property from his father, but through an untiring industry and indomitable thrift, had gone on making change after change, and adding improvement to improvement, until the place was now regarded as in many respects "the model farm" of the locality. Ray Branford, as on the morning of his arrival there he accompanied Mr. Woodhull about the place, thought nothing more could be added to it, either in convenience or usefulness.