convincing on that account. I belong to a profession of
materialists, and all at once it's grown to seem to me the
strangest thing in life that a man who studies the anatomy of
this body of ours should be a materialist. To watch its
workings and then doubt the God who made it is sheet wilful
blindness. But, Ches - I've got my eyes open at last. The
God who made me is up there, and He knows and cares how I go
on with the job. As for answering my appeals for help when I
get hard pressed - the, biggest sign I have of that is a human
one. Since Bobby Burns came to sleep in that little bed next
mine, it's been a whole lot easier to get on."

A deep sigh was Chester's reply to this. He had a small boy
and girl of his own. For their sakes and Winifred's he knew
he must fight this fight out and win. But as for getting
tangible help from the Creator of a body handicapped by nerves
like his! He began to say this, but Burns broke in upon him
with the answer he would least have expected at a moment like
this a great, ringing laugh, the sound of which brought the
slow blood to Chester's white face.

"If you consider wrecked nerves like mine a laughing matter -"
he broke out.

But Burns, his laugh over, was sober again and his voice was
earnest. "Arthur Chester, don't make Him responsible for your
`wrecked nerves.' They weren't wrecked when you were
furnished with them. You've done the wrecking yourself by
breaking pretty nearly every law that governs the workings of
the human machine. You're paying the penalty. But you're