[Illustration: "_Welcome, my benefactor!_"]

"Mr. Randal! Welcome, a thousand times welcome, my benefactor!" he
exclaimed. Seating his guest, Mr. Conway inquired after his health and
comfort, and talked with him as tenderly as a loving son. It was
evident to the quick perception of the merchant that the good old man's
circumstances had changed, and he soon made it easy for him to unburden
his mind.

"Yes, Luke, I am in trouble. Aaron Harrington owns a mortgage on my
farm. I can't pay him, and he threatens to take my home," said Mr.
Randal, with a quivering lip. "I went to his office, but didn't find
him, and I thought may be you'd advise me what to do."

"Mr. Randal," answered the merchant, laying his hand on the old man's
shoulder, "almost thirty years ago when I was cold, and hungry, and
friendless, you took me in and fed me. Your good wife--God bless
her!--made me a suit of clothes with her own hands. You found me work,
and you gave me money when I begun the world alone. Much if not all that
I am in life I owe to your sympathy and help, my kind old friend. Now I
am rich, and you must let me cancel my debt. I shall pay your mortgage
to-day. You shall have your home free again."

Mr. Randal wiped great hot tears from his cheeks, and said, in a husky
voice, "It is just as I told Martha. I knew, if we lent our money to the
Lord, when a dark day came, He would provide."

The reader can imagine the different feelings of the two boys, as they
sat witnesses of the scene. The look of derision, that changed to an