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Richard Falkner, the chairman of the committee, will make the report, and at their request, will speak for a few moments on the subject." As Dick arose from his place in the rear of the stage and stepped forward, the saloon keeper turned to his companion, and in a loud whisper said, "Say, aint he that bum printer of Udell's?"

He loved Amy dearly; had loved her almost from the moment she came into George Udell's printing office three years ago; loved her in spite of the difference in their position, when he was only a tramp and she was the favored daughter of wealth; when he was an unbeliever and she was a worker in the church; loved her when he saw her losing her hold on the higher life and drifting with the current; loved her when she left home, and as he thought, honor behind.

"Indeed, I am glad." "Glad?" "Yes, that you feel as I do." "Truly," she said, ignoring his reply, "you do remind me of someone I have seen somewhere. Oh, I know; it's that tramp printer of Mr. Udell's, I Why, what is the matter, Mr. Falkner? Are you sick? Let me call someone." "No, no," gasped Dick. "I'll be all right in a moment. It's my heart. Please don't worry."

"That Printer of Udell's" was written almost entirely in the late hours of the night and the very early hours of the morning. Great demands were being made on the author's time in the way of requests for officiating and speaking at public and civic functions in addition to the now heavy requirements of his church.

His soul was on fire for his church to do a larger work and, with the hope of arousing his people, he conceived the idea of writing "That Printer of Udell's," planning to read the story, by installments, on special evenings of successive weeks, to his congregation. Pittsburg was made the principal scene and the church of the story was the kind of church he wanted his Pittsburg charge to be.

It is enough for us to know that Udell's engagement was put off no longer, and that he spent the evening at the Wilson home, where the heart of Clara's mother was made glad by the announcement she had long wished to hear. "Law sakes," snapped the old lady; "I do hope you'll be happy. Goodness knows you ought to be; you've waited long enough."

"Where you goin'?" came next from his companion. "Nowhere," just as short. "Folks livin'?" "No." "How long been dead?" "Since I was a little fellow." "Ain't you got no relations?" "Don't want any if they're like an aunt of mine." Uncle Bobbie nodded in sympathy. "How'd you happen to strike this place?" Dick told him in three words, "Lookin' for work." "Udell's a mighty fine fellow."

"How did you make out at Horn & Udell's? Never mind, I'm coming in for a minute; can I?" "Please do. I need you." A moment later Ella bounced in, fresh as to blouse, pink as to cheeks, her whole appearance a testimony to the revivifying effects of a warm bath, a brief nap, clean clothes. "Dear child, you look tired. I'm not going to stay. You get dressed and I'll meet you for dinner.

All that day the incident persisted in forcing itself upon his mind, and that night, after the younger members of the family had retired, and he and Mrs Goodrich were alone, he laid aside his evening paper and asked, "What was Amy doing at Udell's place today?" "She went to have some calling cards printed. Why, what made you ask?" "Oh nothing.

God never ordained that men should be saved by reading rooms and such." "I believe I know just the man we want," said Uncle Bobbie, turning to the young people, when the deacon had at last subsided into an attitude of sullen protest. "Who?" asked one of the young ladies, with the hint of a laugh in her eyes, as she looked at their stand-by. "That printer of Udell's.