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 taining power that He is willing to give to every man who can muster the manhood to receive the gift.”

Jamie leaned over and kissed the Bee Master on the forehead once.

“That’s for the little Scout who sent you a truck load of love.”

Then he kissed him again and added whimsically: “And that’s for Jamie. He’s brought you the same amount.”

The Bee Master held Jamie’s hands very tight for a minute and then, in barely a whisper, he said: “Thank God that you’ve learned to lay hold on the promise of the Master. I am thankful that you have learned to accept His gifts, and I believe, too, that you have learned enough of life and enough of love in my house and in my garden that you will be ready to accept any gift which love and confidence may bring to you.”

Jamie went out wondering what that meant. The next day he learned. The call came early from the hospital. The Bee Master had found that beautiful crossing that the little Scout had so understandingly described. With his hands folded on his breast, in his sleep, he had answered the call so lightly given that the nurse found him as she had left him. His instructions had been that his remains were to be shipped immediately to an address he gave in the East. He wanted to be laid for his final sleep beside the two Marys, the one he had loved and married, and the one to whom their love had given life. All three of them were gone now, and Jamie put it into the next