It was near the close of his sermon that he began to gather a certain strength that had been painfully lacking at the beginning.
He closed the Bible and, stepping out at the side of the desk, faced his people and began to talk to them about the remarkable scene of the week before.
"Our brother," somehow the words sounded a little strange coming from his lips, "passed away this morning.

I have not yet had time to learn all his history.

He had one sister living in Chicago.

I have written her and have not yet received an answer.

His little girl is with us and will remain for the time." He paused and looked over the house.