"Something strange about Bob Davis," said Jake. "Said I could have
that old chickenhouse if I wanted. I'd be a fool to take it now."

"Jake, I believe Robert Davis is a real Christian," said Kate, as a
sort of confession on her part. "Why, I do not know of a member of
our church that would do the manly thing that he has done, coming up
without any self-justification and asking forgiveness for his wrong.
I'm more convinced than I ever was before that Robert's doctrine is
right, after all. Your dad would not own up like that even if he knew
he was in the wrong. I wish I had more of Robert's religion."

"That is true. Kate," said Jake. "Dad's either too hardheaded or has
not enough religion to own up to a fault."

"I begin to feel like I am not a Christian at all, Jake," said Kate.
"I could not do as Robert Davis has done. No, I couldn't. I'm not much
of a Christian. I believe we might as well quit our profession, Jake,
if we can't live better than we are." And more big, honest tears
rolled down Kate's cheeks.

"Well, I have been baptized," said Jake, and Pastor Sammons said water
baptism was essential to salvation. I believed in Jesus Christ and was
baptized. What else can I do? I live as good as any other member of
our church. I have been in good standing for ten years. I do not know
what else to do. The preacher thinks I am all right."

"Yes, I know," replied Kate, "the preacher thinks I am all right, too,
but I know I am not. I just feel that I am not a real Christian."

"Well, I must confess," said Jake, "that Robert's confession puts