A Boy Knight Part 21

They soon reached the rectory. "Good-bye, Frank, my good boy Frank," and the priest gave him a hand shake that almost made him yell.

"Good-bye, Father."

And when in later years Frank recalled that night, he marvelled that one small boy could have been both so sad and so happy.

Chapter VI

The Cost of Honor

The next morning at about ten, Father Boone was in his office at the Club, waiting for Mr. Roberts, who had phoned him asking for an appointment.

"This has been a crowded week," said the priest to himself. "On Monday morning I found the Club rooms a wreck. Since then, we have had a fire, Bill Daly's adventure and death, all the worry over the mystery and, thank G.o.d, its solution.

"All cleared up now. And out of it comes Frank Mulvy, pure gold. He had a hard ordeal, poor boy. I was certainly severe on him. But under the same circ.u.mstances, yes, I'd do the same again. What a _mirage_ life is!

We see or fancy we see, so many things that are not there."

Presently, Mr. Roberts was shown in, and after the usual greeting, he said, "I know you are busy, Father, and so I won't take up much of your time. You know I had intended putting William Daly through school, but that's off now."

"Yes," interrupted Father Boone, "he knows more now than all the colleges could impart."

"Say, Father Boone, do you know it's taken my breath away--the way you people look at things. You talk and feel about the other world as we do about this! Why, last night, everybody seemed to be right next door to G.o.d."

"That's our Faith," replied the priest. "It's our greatest treasure, the best thing we have in life. That is, for those of us who live up to it."

"It must be so, Father. I couldn't help but notice how happy that boy looked after the Sacraments. But, I came on another matter today.

William Daly is dead. What I was going to do for him I want to do for some other whom you will designate. Preferably, that young lad who was with you last night. But I leave it to you."

"G.o.d will bless you for that. But Frank Mulvy comes of a well-to-do family. He is one of the finest lads that G.o.d ever made. He intends going to college after finis.h.i.+ng at our high school. I have another boy, however, very deserving and very poor. If you will consent, I should like to designate him. His name is Edward Morgan."

"Edward Morgan it shall be," replied Mr. Roberts.

"Now, another thing, Father. I have told Mrs. Daly to have as nice a funeral as possible for her boy. That's not an act of kindness, but of justice. He saved my wife and child. I shudder when I think what life would be without them. All my money would be nothing, with them gone. Of course I shall take good care of Mr. Daly," he added.

"I am sure you are doing the part of a good and grateful man," said Father Boone.

"And another little thing, Father. We are close on to Christmas. I want to do something for you personally, for yourself, do you understand?"

"I thank you very much," said the priest, "but, really, I prefer to have you help some one else."

"No, it must be you, Father. I am set. I want to do something to please you, personally."

"O, you do! Well now, I'll tell you how you may do that. I have any number of poor people in the parish. Some need clothing, some food, some rent. Suppose you help me to help them?"

"I'll go the limit, Father, I have the money. You send me word how much you need, and you will have it."

"Not so fast, my good man. I only want you to help to a certain extent.

You know we have many poor. I could easily ask you for a large sum and not half supply our needs. Just how much do you wish to give?"

"How much do you want?"

"Well, I have at least thirty poor families on my list."

"Suppose, then," said Mr. Roberts, "that we make it a hundred dollars to each family. How would that suit?"

Father Boone felt like calling for help. Three thousand dollars! It almost toppled him over. "Suit!" he exclaimed, "why, it will be royal!

Rather, let me say, it will be very Christian, Christlike."

"It's done," said Mr. Roberts.

"I thank you," said Father Boone earnestly.

"I thank _you_," replied the millionaire. Then he continued: "I see you are doing a lot here for the boys. That is the best work I know of. If you turn out others like Frank and William, you ought to be blessed and thanked. I know your heart is with your boys. Can't I do something for the Club?"

They talked over the situation for some time, with the result that the Club was to get a new piano, new up-to-date billiard tables, a bowling alley, and six sets of boxing gloves. All these were to be delivered Christmas week.

As Mr. Roberts was leaving, the priest said, "It's my turn now to do something for you. I am going to ask you to do a little favor for yourself. I want you to kneel down every night before going to bed and say a prayer. It's not a long one, just this: 'O G.o.d, grant me the grace to see the light, and the courage to follow it.'"

"Why, that's easy," said Mr. Roberts. "I thought you were going to ask me something big."

"Well, for all you know, that may turn out to be the biggest thing you have ever done," replied Father Boone, as they clasped hands on parting.

Father Boone's thoughts just now had turned to the McCormack concert.

After the disturbance, he had sent the tickets to a priest down town, who had a boys' club in a poor section of the city. "But I don't know as it's too bad," he thought. "Those boys down there never get much of anything. I'll find some way to make it up. The boys won't suffer for my mistake, that's certain."

He phoned down to Carnegie Hall.

"Sold out," was the answer.

"I thought so," he reflected, not at all disappointed.

That afternoon while down town on business, he turned over 57th Street to Seventh Avenue and dropped into Carnegie Hall to see what other date McCormack was booked for. While he was making his inquiries, a man standing nearby approached him.

"Pardon, Father, you're from St. Leonard's? I am Mr. McCormack's manager; perhaps I can help you out." When he heard that ninety seats were wanted, he almost collapsed, "But your boys are little chaps, aren't they, Father, from nine to fifteen? Lads of that age don't take up much room. How would you like to have them seated on the stage?"

"Why, that's capital," exclaimed Father Boone.

"Well, I can manage that. We'll give them the first row on either side.

That will put them right close to McCormack while he's singing. I know how kids like to be near to what's going on."

So it was all arranged, and Father Boone returned home very happy. He had received that very morning a letter from one of the paris.h.i.+oners who always gave him something for the Club at Christmas. This time it was a check for $150.00. The tickets cost him $90.00. "With the rest," he mused, "I shall be able to give them a good time."

(II)

That evening the boys were rather subdued. Bill Daly's death had affected them greatly. To be playing with a lad on Monday, and to know he is dead on Friday, is a terrible shock to boys.