down the center aisle and paused before the platform, on which was a table and chair. For a long time he stood with one hand on the table. Then he said:
"It's beautiful, Douglas! Beautiful! A chapel for me! Built by a young man that has faith in me. Wonderful! And built with such free-hearted care! For me to preach in! Why, a minister of a great metropolis might well envy me such a gift!"
He paused again, turning the lantern so that the tapestried colors of the walls again flashed forth.
"Stained glass!" half whispered the old man. "Already it has the air of a church. Douglas, we'll consecrate it now."
He knelt before the platform and Douglas bowed his head.
"O God, my Father and my Shepherd," said Fowler, "You have led my wandering steps to this fragrant evidence of a young man's heart. How beautiful it is, O God, and how holy, You know. Help me to keep it so, Heavenly Father, and help me to make Lost Chief find it so. And, O God, put Your great arm about this young man and keep it there until he realizes that it is Your arm supporting him. I thank You, O Everlasting Mercy, for leading me to this resting-place for my soul. Amen."
And it seemed to Douglas, bowing his head in the dusk, that the chapel itself was listening in a brooding peace.
After a moment, the old man rose and led the way out the door, which Douglas locked, then turned the key over to the preacher.
"It's yours, now," he said with a little, embarrassed laugh. "I'm only the guard."
Fowler put the key carefully into his pocket. "If
