"I see what you mean, my boy. You mean it would be terrible for him to
be in that far land, and away from that Friend we know and love best."
The lad looked at his father through his tears, and nodded his head, and
for some moments there was silence between them. If the truth must be
told, Doctor Dunn felt himself keenly rebuked by his little son's words.
Amid the multitude of his responsibilities, the responsibility for his
sons' best friend he had hardly realised.
"I am glad that you spoke of it, Rob; I am glad that you spoke of it.
Something will be done. It is not, after all, in our hands. Still, we
must stand ready to help. Good-night, my boy. And remember, it is always
good to hurry back to our best Friend, if ever we get away from Him."
The boy put his arms around his father's neck and kissed him good-night;
then, kissing him again, he whispered: "Thank you, Daddy."
And from the relief in his tone the father recognised that upon him the
lad had laid all the burden of his solicitude for his friend.
Later in the evening, when his elder son came home, the father called
him in, and frankly gave him the substance of the conversation of the
earlier part of the evening.
Jack laughed somewhat uneasily. "Oh, Rob is an awfully religious little
beggar; painfully so, I think, sometimes--you know what I mean, Sir," he
added, noticing the look on his father's face.
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