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 uncle an interest and importance that Mr. Newt's somewhat insignificant personality might otherwise have failed to inspire. The child had heard about hell. A most unpleasant place where wicked people went to when they died. But his uncle, with his twinkling eyes and his merry laugh, was not his idea of a bad man.

"Is uncle very, very wicked?" he once demanded of his aunt.

"No; he's not wicked," replied his aunt, assuming a judicial tone. "Better than nine men out of ten that I've ever come across."

"Then why has he got to go to hell?"

"He needn't, if he didn't want to," replied his aunt. "That's the awful thing about it. If he'd only believe, he could be saved."

"Believe what?" inquired Anthony John.

"Oh, I haven't got time to go into all that now," replied his aunt. She was having trouble with the kitchen stove. "Believe what he's told."

"Who told him?"

"Everybody," explained his aunt. "I've told him myself till I'm sick and tired of it. Don't ask so many questions. You're getting as bad as he is."

It worried him, the thought of his uncle going to