To the neglected, over-burdened boy these tender words were like a balm to
his heart. He felt no sense of protection from his father, and he missed
his mother always. At times it seemed that his load was too heavy for him
to bear. Yet to his father he would make no complaint, lest the home be
broken up. He loved the children tenderly for their own sake, and with a
deeper love yet for her sake who had been called away from them. Sometimes
he had to forget that he was a boy and look ahead and think like a man.

"Austin, we hear you are going to your father. We are glad of it, but, boy,
take the advice of a friend of your father's, do not follow his footsteps.
He is a good fellow and we like him, but he would have been a better man to
his family if he never had learned to drink. It would never do you any
good," said Pete Dykes one day.

Pete was one of his father's cronies, and this advice surprized Austin.

"Pete is right in that. You are better off if you never learn to drink,"
said Sam Phipps, Pete's companion.

"I have that settled and mean to stay by my decision," answered Austin
while his eyes rested on the two men in pity.

At last the day came to start, and everything was ready for the journey.
They would be at least a day and a night on the way, and would have to
change in the heart of a great city, but Austin was certain that by
following his uncle's careful directions they would get along all right.
They started to the station early so that they should have time to stop and
speak to the neighbors who would be at their gates to bid the children
farewell. The eyes of the neighborhood were upon the children, and many