The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1913-02-15

|
but they would drag him lower. He
had faint realization of his power
less condition for he was in the clutch
of drink, and almost within the fingers
of passion. Three pictures flashed be-
fore his mind, his mothers face, his
| little sisters and the countenance of
Chester Davis.
| "If Chester were only near him, all
would be well. In his anguish he
whispered prayer to his angel
guardian, and his very soul cried out
for the strong guiding hand of his
friend. A glass of liquor was pushed
toward him, but he refused to touch
it. His companions surrounded him,
bent upon this new sport of forcing
him to drink
"As the afternoon drew into even
ing, Chester Davis grew restless and
quit his bed. A variety of thoughts
harrassed him. Naughton's words
came back to him with telling force,
and his friends face constantly flashed
before his eyes. He could not &C
count for it. Unable to bear the strain
any longer, he went down the hall to
Franks room and knocked. There
was no response, so he pushed open
the door. The place was empty.
Chester went back to his room
troubled and unsatisfied. Where is
Naughton? he asked himself; and
something seemed to say to him: he
is in trouble, and needs your help.
He could not drive this from his mind,
and his own name Davis, Davis
ratified against his poor tired brain
insistently.
Davis arose from his chair and
muttered: If this does not cease Til
go mad Flinging up the window, he
plunged his feverish face into the cool
night air, as eagerly as subscribed
traveller dips his brow into cooling
stream. A shower of sleet drove
against him and he hastily withdrew,
closing the window. His mind had
formed plan, he would seek Frank.
But where? And the answer came, in
the gilded cafes he had learned to
love-
Davis hurried into his coat and
hat, and went out into the bowling
wind and cutting sleet. His head
pounded fiercely and his body shook
with intermittent fever. He swung
on a car and in ten minutes alighted
at South Square. Instinctively he
turned into Fay Street and entered
Lees cafe.
"A scene met his eyes that will
linger forever in his memory. Frank
Naughton, leaning heavily against a
table, was fighting off his crowd of
tormentors. A faint stream of blood
trickled down his face, and his left
hand, held before him in defence, was
cut and bleeding. In a flash Davis was
beside him, scattering the jewellers
to right and left. He flung an arm
around his friend and before the
stupefied men could realize the situa-
ton he hurried Frank into the street.
They took cab and drove into the
night"
Father Dome stopped. A shower of
sleet dashed itself to death against the
window. The younger priest arose
from his chair with fresh fervor
kindled in his soul. His heart was
lightened, touched by the self-sacrfic-
ing element in the pastors narrative.
After all it was worth while to try for
such prize. But what was the out
come? Did Chester's sacrifice bear
fruit? And this telepathy? Surely
Divine Providence works through
| oh ND oil IN
wisely for it's own end.
Father Langtry looked at the pastor,
whose gaze was intently fixed upon a
picture at the other end of the room.
The younger priest spoke:
"And what of Naughton; was Davis
sacrifice of no avail?"
ct was. Chester Davis is now a
prominent physician. Davis is not his
proper name"
"But what of Naughton?" Father
Langtry insisted.
"Naughton is priest of God, trying
to do His work faithfully. There is a
photograph of them"
He flashed a sheet of light on a
large picture that hung over the
mantel. Father Langtry drew in his
breath sharply, for he knew them. One
was picture of DR.. Baker; and the
other of him-him whom he loved
Father Doone.
The little clock on the pastors desk
chimed seven, the sound of the last
stroke reverberating through the quiet
room, and fainting to mere echo
The elder priest arose and placed his
hand upon his assistants shoulder.
ut is time for you to visit Mr.
Porter. Goodbye, Father; God give
you success.