This is my challenge, not yours. Just tell me the way and I’ll find it.”

“You couldn’t possibly find your way alone, you a stranger. I’ve been born and brought up climbing all over the place. I know every nook and cranny. If anybody can find the way in the dark, I can. I’ve camped up there since I was a kid!”

“But I can’t let you run this risk. It is my duty, not yours!” declared Alan with finality.

“Look here, man, don’t you know that the same thing that makes this a challenge to you makes it binding on me also? There’s a life to be saved up there, and we’re going to save it. Come on. We mustn’t lose a minute of daylight.”

“Yes,” said Father Devereaux, stepping into the light of the fire, his white hair like a halo around this sweet strong face, his fine eyes shining with something almost like exaltation. “Yes, both of you must go, of course, but you’ll have to put on good warm clothing before you start. This friend here is shaking with the cold, and can’t you see his feet are dripping wet? You couldn’t survive a mile in this storm like that. Lance, take him into the spare room and give him some good warm clothes, long woolen underwear, two pairs of wool stockings, high boots, you know what he needs, and you’ve plenty of them.”

“Why, I’ve a few things for sports out in my car,” said Alan, suddenly remembering. “I was prepared for winter sports.”

“Never mind those things!” said Lance sharply. “We haven’t time to wait to unpack the car. Leave it where it is till Bill Gates gets here. Dad, you’ll have him unload it and bring the things in, won’t you? Got your keys, man? Better leave them here. Where’s your medicine? In the car?”

“It’s right here in my pocket,” said Alan soberly, handing over his car keys. “I don’t know what to say to thank you all, and I feel like a criminal letting your son in for this awful climb—” Alan’s voice grew husky with feeling. “I’m Alan Monteith. Here’s my business card. Not that it matters of course, now.”

“That’s all right, son, don’t worry. This is a call of course. We’ll put you both in God’s hands.”

“And I’m Lance Devereaux,” said the other young man with a quick clasp of the stranger’s hand. “Come on now, we’ve got to doll up. Mother, you going to give us a cup of coffee to start on?”

“I’m making the coffee,” said Daryl quietly. “Mother’s gone up to the attic to get some more warm woolens.”

“Come on, then!” said Lance, starting toward the stairs.

“Take Mr. Monteith into the guest room,” said Daryl, coming forward and flinging open the door of the room that was all ready for Harold Warner, and her brother saw as he looked that the fire he had laid there was lit and the room was bright and warm. He flung his sister an inscrutable look and then gave her a blinding smile of appreciation that warmed her heart all during the hours that followed.

“Get those wet socks off, Alan,” said Lance, coming in with a rough Turkish towel, “and rub those ankles till they burn. It won’t do to start off on this expedition with cold feet. There.