An old man with long, white hair flowing from beneath his
wide-brimmed hat, sat near the door holding one of Mrs. Wentz's
children on his knee. His face was deep-lined and serious; but
kindness shone from his mild blue eyes.

"Mr. Wells, this is my brother James. He is a preacher, and has come
in place of the man you expected from Williamsburg."

The old minister arose, and extended his hand, gazing earnestly at
the new-comer meanwhile. Evidently he approved of what he saw in his
quick scrutiny of the other's face, for his lips were wreathed with
a smile of welcome.

"Mr. Downs, I am glad to meet you, and to know you will go with me.
I thank God I shall take into the wilderness one who is young enough
to carry on the work when my days are done."

"I will make it my duty to help you in whatsoever way lies in my
power," answered Jim, earnestly.

"We have a great work before us. I have heard many scoffers who
claim that it is worse than folly to try to teach these fierce
savages Christianity; but I know it can be done, and my heart is in
the work. I have no fear; yet I would not conceal from you, young
man, that the danger of going among these hostile Indians must be
great."

"I will not hesitate because of that. My sympathy is with the
redman. I have had an opportunity of studying Indian nature and
believe the race inherently noble. He has been driven to make war,