There were many of his parishioners in the streets, and several of the women broke into bitter weeping as he passed, and many of the men imprecated the boy who was bringing white lines of sorrow into his father's hair.
"This is the logical end of his lawless bringing up," said one.
The father went on: "Tell me, my boy--tell me the truth--did you strike to kill?
Was murder in your heart ?" Harold did not reply.

The minister laid a broad, gentle hand on his son's shoulder.

"Tell me, Harold." "No; I struck to hurt him.

He was striking me; I struck back," the boy sullenly answered.
The father sighed with relief.

"I believe you, Harold.