THE SEARCH
By Grace Livingston HUG-Lutz
Copyright, 1619, by J. II- EIppineott Company
‘ Ruth knew in a general way
that Jesus Christ was the Savior
of the world, that His name
should be the remedy for evil;
but how to put it to them in sim
ple form, ah ! that was it. It was
Cameron's search for God, and
it seemed that all the world was
On the same search. But now to
day she had suddenly come on
some of the footprints of the Man
of Sorrow as lie toiled over the
mountains of earth searching for
lost humanity, and her own heart
echoed His love and sorrow for
the world. She cried out in her
helplessness for something to
give to these wistful people,
i Somehow the prayer must have
been answered, for the little con
gregation hung upon Iut words, •
and one old man with deep
creases in his forehead and kind
ly wrinkles around his eyes spoke
out in meeting and said:
"I like God. I like Him good.
I like Him all e time wi’ mee!
All c time. Ev’e where! Him
live in my house 1”
The tears sprang to her eyes
With answering sympathy. Here
in her little mission she lntd
found a brother soul seeking alt
er God. She had another swilt.
vision then of what the kinship
of the whole world meant, and
how Christ could love every
body.
After Sunday school was out
little Sarnia came stealing up to
her:
"Mine bruddcr die,” she said
Borrow fully.
"What? Tony? The pretty
fat baby? Oh, I’m so sorry!”
Maid Ruth putting her arm ten
derly around the little girl.
"Where is your mother? I must
go and see her.”
Down the w inding unkept road
they walked, the delicately
roared girl and the little Italian
drudge, to the hovel where the
family were housed, a lumhled
down affair of ancient stone,
tawdrily washed over in some
season past with scaling pink
whitewash. The noisy abode of
the family pig'was in front of
the house in the midst of a trim
little garden of cabbage, lettuce,
garlic, And tomatoes. Rut the
dirty swarming little house usu
ally so full of noise and good
cheer was tidy today, and no
guests hovered on the brief front
Stoop sipping from a friendly bot
tle, or playing the accordion.
There was not an accordion
heard in the community, for
there had been a funeral that
morning and every one was try
ing to be quiet out of respect for
the bereaved parents.
And there in the open door
way, in li is shirt sleeves.
Crouched low upon the step, sat
the head of the house, his
swarthy face bowed upon his
knees, a picture of utter despair,
and just beyond the mother’s
head *vas bowed upon her folded
arms on the window seat, and
thus they mourned in public si
lence before their little world.
Ruth's heart went out to the
two poor ignorant creatures in
their grief as she remembered
the little dark child with fhe
* brown curls and glorious eyes
who bad resembled one of
Raphael’s cherubs, and thought
how empty the mother’s arms
would be without him.
“Oh, Sanda, ted your mother
how sorry I am!” she said to the
little girl, for the mother could
not speak or understand English.
“Tell her not to mourn so terri
bly, dear. Tell her that, tb»* d»»r
baby is safe, and happy with
Jesus! Tell her she will go to
Him some day.”
Ami as the little girl interpret
ed her words, suddenly Ruth
knew that what she was speaking
Was truth, truth she might have
heard before but never recog
nised or realized till now.
The mother lifted her sorrow
ful face all tearswollen nfftl tried
1 ft pitiful smile, nodded to say
she understood, then dropped
sobbing again upon the window
sill. The father‘lifted a sad face,
not too sober, but blear eyed and
pitiful, too, in his hopelessness,
nodded as if lie accepted the fact
(die hud told, but i! gave him no
comfort, and then went back to
his own despair.
Ruth ti- aed away with ach
ing heart, praying: “Oh, God,
they need you! Come and emu
fort them. I don’t know how!”
Rut somehow, on her homeward
way she seemed to have met and
been greeted by her Savior.
It was so she received her bap
tism for the work that she was
to do.
The next, day permission came
for $>er to go to France, and she
entered upon tier brief training.
“Don’t you dread to have her
go!” asked a neighbor of Aunt
Rhoda.
“Oh, yes,” sighed the good
lady comfortably, “but then she
is going in good company, and
it isn’t as if all the best people
weren’t doing it. Of course, it
will be great experience for her,
and f wouldn’t want to keep her
out of it. She’ll meet a great
many nice people over there that
she might not have met if she had
stayed at home. Everybody, they
tell me, is at, work over there.
She’ll be likely to meet the no
bility. It isn’t as if we didn’t
have friends there, too, who will
be sure to invite her over week
ends. If she gets tired she ran
go to them, you know. And
really, 1 was glad to have some
thing come up to take her away
from that miserable little coun
try slum she has been so crazy
about. I was dreadfully afraid
she would catch something there
or else they would rob us and
murder us and kidnap her some
day.”
And that was the way things
presented themselves to Aunt
Rhoda!
CHAPTER xfx.
All day the shells had been
flying thick and fast. When
night settled down the fire was
so continuous that one could
trace the battle front by the re
flection in I he sky.
Cameron stood at his post un
der flic stars and cried out in his
soul for God. For days now
death had stalked them very
(dose. His comrades had fallen
all about him. There seemed to
be no chance for safety. And
where was God? Had lie no
part in all this hell on earth?
Did He not care? Would He not
be found? All his seeking and
praying and reading of the little
book seemed to have brought
God no nearer. He was going
out pretty soon, in the natural
order of the battle if things kept
on, out into theother life, wit li
on, out into the other life, with
had promised that if he would
believe, and if he would seek
with all his heart he would sure
ly find Him.
_ Once in a Y. M. C. A. hut on a
Sunday night a great tenor came
to entertain them, and sang al
most the very words that the
stranger hack in the states had
written in his little hook:
“If with all your hearts ye
truly seek Him ye shall ever
surely find him. Thus saitli vour
God!”
And ever since that song had
rung its wonderful melody down
deep in his heart he lmd been
seeking, seeking in all the ways
he knew, with a longing that
would not lie satisfied. And yet
he seemed to have found noth
ing.
So now as ho walked silently
beneath the stars, looking up, his
soul was crying out with- the
longing of despair to find a Sa
vior, the Christ of his soul. Amid
all the shudderiugs of the battle
rent. earth, the concussions of the
bursting shells, could even Cod
hear a soul’s low erv?
Suddenly out in the darkness
in front of him there flickered a
tiny light, only a speck of a glint
it was, the spark of a cigaret,
hut it was where it had no busi
ness to be, and it was Cameron’s
business to see that it was not
there. They had been given
strict orders that there must be
no lights and no sounds to give
away their position. Even
though his thoughts were with
the stars in his search for God,
his senses were keen and’ on the
alert, lie sprang instantly and
silently, appearing before the de
linquent like a miracle.
‘ Halt!” he said under his
breath, “Can that cigaret!”
“I guess you don't know who
I am!” swaggered a voice thick
and unnatural that yet had a fa
miliar sound.
“It makes no difference who
vou are, you can’t smoke on this
post while I’m on duty. Those
<ye my orders!” and with a
quick motion lit' caught the cig
aret from the loose lips and ex
tinguished it, grinding it into
the ground with his heel.
“I'll have you—e-e-co-mar
shalled for this!” stuttered the
angry officer, stepping hack un
steadily and raising his fist.
In disgust Cameron turned his
ba< k ami walked away. IIow
had Wainwright managed to
bring liquor with him to the
front 1 Something powerful and
condensed, no doubt, to steady
his nerves in battle. Wainwright
had ever been noted for bis cow
ardice. I Lis; breath was heavy
with it. How could a man want
to meet death in such a way?
lie turned to look again, and
Wainwright was walking un
steadily away across the line
whero they had been forbidden
to go, out into the open where
the shells were flying. Cameron
watched him for an instant with
mingled feelings. To think he
called himself a man, and dared
to boast of marrying such a wom
an as Ruth Macdonald. Well,
what if he did go into danger
and get killed! The world was
better off without him! Cam
eron’s heart was burning hot
within him. 11 is enemy was at
last within his power. No one
but himself had seen Wainwright
move off in that direction where
was certain death wi(,J n a few
minutes. It was no part of his
duty to stop him. lie was not
supposed to know he had been
drinking.
me wnisne or a sneii went
ricocheting through tile air and
Cameron dropped as he had been
taught to do, but lifted his eyes
in time to sec Wainwright throw
up his arms, drop on the edg'1 of
the hill, and disappear. The
shell plowed its way in a furrow
a few, feet away and Cameron
rose to his feet. Sharply, dis
tinctly, in a brief lull of the din
about him he heard his name
called. It sounded from down
the hill, a ery of distress, but it
did not sound like Wainwright’s
voice:
“Cameron! Come! Help!”
lie obeyed instantly, although,
strange to say, he hud n« thought
of its being Wainwright. He
crept cautiously out to the edge
of the hill and looked over. The
blare of the heavens made ob
jects below quite visible He
could see Wainwright huddled
as he had fallen. While he looked
the injured man lifted his head,
struggled to crawl feebly, but
fell back again. lie felt a sense
of relief that at last his enemy
was where he could do no more
harm. Then, through the dim
darkness he saw a figure coming
toward the prostrate form, and
stooping over to touch him. It
showed white against, the dark
ness and it paid nb heed to the
shell that suddenly whistled
overhead. It half lifted the head
of the fallen officer, and then
straightened up and looked to
ward Cameron; and again, al
though there was no sound audi
ble now in the din that the bat
tle was making, he felt himself
called.
A strange thrill of awe pos
sessed him. Was tlwvt the Christ
out there whom he had been
seeking? And v/lpit did he ex
pect of him ? To come out there
to his emomyf To the man who
had been in many ways the curse
of his young life?
Suddenly as he still hesitated
a verse from bis Testament which
had often come to his notice re
turned clearly to his irpnd :
“If thou bringest thy gift to
the altar, and tiiej’e remember
est that thy brother hath ought
against tlioe. leave there thy gift
before tin1 altar. First befrecon
eiled to thy brother, and then
come and offer thy ^$ift.”
Was this, then, \ynat was ro
quired of him? Hi*d Ids hate
toward Wainwright tan'll what
had hindered him from finding
Clod?
There was no time now to
argue that this man was not his
; brother. The may would be
killed certainly if he lay there
many minutes. The opportunity
would pass as quickly as it had
come. The Christ he sought was
out there expecting him to coma,
and he must lost no ftome in going
to Him. How gladly would he
have faced death to go to Hira!
But Wainwright! That was
different! Could it he this that
was required of him? Then hack
in his soul thgre echoed the
words: “If with all vonr heart
ye truly seek.’’ 8k)why he crept
forward over the brow of the
bill, and into the light, going to
ward that white figure above the
huddled dark one; creeping pain
fully, with bullets ripping up the
earth about him. lit was going
to the Christ, with all his heart
- yes, all his heart! Even if it
! meant putting by hi* enmity for
I ever! .
Somewhere on the wav he un
*
! derstood.
When he reached the fallen
! man ther* was no white figure
I there, but he wa.s net surprised
nor disappointed. The Christ,
was not there because he had
entered into his heurt. lie had
' found Him at last.
Back at the base hospital they
told Wainwright one day how
Cameron had crawled with him
foil his back, out from under the
i searchlights amid th* shells, and
into safety. ft was the only
thing that saved hb life, for if
he had lain long with the wound
he had got, there would have
been no chance for him. Wain
wright, when he heard it, lay
thoughtful for a long time, a
puzzled, half-sullen ■ look on his
face. He saw that everybody
considered Cameron a hero.
There was no getting away from
|that. the rest of his life. One
could not in decency be an
enemy of a man who had saved
one's life. Cameron had won out
in a final round. It would not
be good policy not to recognize
it. It would be entirely too un
popular. He must make friends
with him. It would be better to
patronize him than to be patron
ized by him. Perhaps also, down
in the depths of his fat selfish
heart there was a little bit of ’
gratitude mixed with it all. For
he did love life, and he was a
mortal coward.
Ho lie sent for Cameron one
day, and Cameron came, lie did
not want to come. He dreaded the
interview worse than anything
he had ever had to face before.
But he came. He came with the
same spirit he had gone out into
the shell-fire after Wainwright.
Because he felt that the Christ
asked it of him.
He stood stern and grave at
the foot of the little hospital cot
and listened while Wainwright
pompously thanked him, and told
him graciously that now that he
had saved his life he was going
to put aside all the old quarrels
ami be his friend. Cameron
smiled sadly. There was no bit
terness in his smile. Perhaps
just the least fringe of amuse
ment, but no hardness. lie even
took the bandaged hand that was
offered as a token that peace
had come between them who had
so long been at war. All the time
were ringing in his heart the
words: “With all your heart!
With all your heart!” He had
the Christ, what else mattered?
Homehow Wainwright felt that
he had not quite made the im-j
pression on this strong man that1
lie had hoped, and in an impulse
to be more than gracious he
reached his good hand under his
pillow and brought forth an en
velope.
When Corporal Cameron saw
the writing on that envelope he
went white under the tan of the
battlefield, but he stood still and
showed no other sign:
“When I get bat*k home I’m
going to be married” said the
complacent voice, “and my wife
and I will want you to come and
take dinner with us some day.
I guess you know who the girl
is. Hhe lives in Bryne Haven up
on tiie hill. Her name is Ruth
Macdonald. I’ve just had a let
ter from her. I’ll have to write
her how you saved my life. Hhe’ll
want to thank you, too.”
How could Cameron possibly
know that that envelope ad
dressed in Ruth Macdonald’s
precious handwriting contained
nothing but the briefest word of
thanks few an elaborate souvenir
that Wainwright had sent her
from France?
“ What’s the matter with Cam
mie?” iiis comrades asked one
another when he came back to his
company. “He looks as though
ho had lost his last friend. Did'
he care so much for that Wain
wright guy that he saved? I’m
sure ’I don’t see what he sees in
him. I wouldn’t hav-e taken the
trouble to go out after him,
would you?”
Cameron’s influence had been
felt quietly among his company.
In his presence the men refrained
from certain styles of conversa
tion, when he sat apart and read
his Testament, they hushed their
boist+rous talk, and lately some
had come to read with him. He
was generally conceded to uc
the bravest man in their com
pany, and when a fellow had to
die suddenly he liked Cameron to
hold him in his arms.
So far Cameron had not had a
scratch, and the men had come
to think he had a charmed life.
More than he knew he was be
loved of them all. More than
they knew their respect for him
wax deepening into a kind of
awe. They felt he had a power
with him that they understood
not. He was still the silent cor
poral. Ho talked not at all ol‘ his
new-found experience, vet it
| shone in his face in a mysterious
(To Be Continued Next Week)
Old Tradition.
- From the lx>s Angeles Times.
The late Mrs. George Gould hated di
] voree. At a Lakewood dinner party a
' young divorcee was admiring Mrs.
t Gould's splendid j( wels.
•‘Oh. that's your wedding ring, Isn't
,lt ?" she said. "How o'd fashioned it
looks. Tn the past they made them so
much wider than they do now.”
"In the past, you see." said Mrs.
Gould, “they expected them to last a
lifetime."
1
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