finished, the three men sat in front of Jake's cabin until a late hour.
The preachers expounded the Scriptures to poor, ignorant Jake and told
him of the wonders of God's grace. Finally, when the big silvery moon
stood in mid-heaven and the sound of cow-bells on the hill had died
away, Jake suggested that they retire for the night. By the light of the
moon one of the ministers read his Bible. It so happened that he opened
it at the 12th chapter of Hebrews. These words as they fell from this
man's pious lips affected Jake deeply. He surely had read that same
chapter himself many times, and doubtless during the twenty-seven years
he had been a member of Mount Olivet Church he had heard his pastor read
it. But there was one verse that sank right to the center of Jake's
heart. It was the 14th: "Follow peace with all men, and holiness,
without which no man shall see the Lord." Jake had always had a hope in
his breast that he should some day see the Lord. He had had more than
his allotted share of troubles in life, and deep in his heart he had a
longing to go where "the wicked cease from troubling and the weary be at
rest."

Soon all was silence in the cabin attic, where the three men lay. The
restless surgings of man's inner soul are invisible to all eyes, save
God's, and silence is not always a proof that everyone is asleep. Jake
lay on a bag of dried leaves, having given his own bunk to his guests.
But his eyes refused to sleep. The music of the katydids had lost its
power to soothe his troubled breast and bring him sweet repose. His mind
took a voyage over the past. Memory, according to her wonted ways
carried him again to his mother's knee. He recalled the sound of her
voice as she sang, "When I shall see Him face to face and tell the story
saved by grace." But that scripture, "Without holiness no man shall see
the Lord," took the sweetness out of that long-remembered song. Jake
knew he was not holy. His heart was defiled by sin. His lips were