don't be sentimental. Religion is not a matter of sentiment;
it's a matter of principle."

The face of the younger man changed now. But instead of becoming

fixed and graven, it seemed to melt into life by the heat of
an inward fire. His nostrils quivered with quick breath,
his lips were curled. "Principle!" he said. "You mean
principal--and
interest too. Well, sir, you know best whether that is religion
or not.
But if it is, count me out, please. Tom saved me from going to
the devil,
six years ago; and I'll be damned if I don't help him to the best
of
my ability now."

John Weightman looked at his son steadily. "Harold," he said at
last,
"you know I dislike violent language, and it never has any
influence with me. If I could honestly approve of this
proposition of yours, I'd let you have the money; but I can't;
it's extravagant and useless. But you have your Christmas check
for
a thousand dollars coming to you to-morrow. You can use it as
you please.
I never interfere with your private affairs."

"Thank you," said Harold. "Thank you very much! But there's
another