Lo, Michael

But the coming of Mr. Endicott was a great event to the boy. He could scarcely sleep the night before the expected arrival.

It was just before the evening meal that the through train from New York reached the station. Michael had been given the privilege of going down to meet his benefactor.

Tall and straight and handsome he stood upon the platform as the train rushed into the town, his cheeks glowing from excitement, his eyes bright with anticipation, his cap in his hand, and the last rays of the setting sun glowing in his golden hair, giving a touch like a halo round his head. When Endicott saw him he exclaimed mentally over his strength and manly beauty, and more than one weary tourist leaned from the open car window and gazed, for there was ever something strange and strong and compelling about Michael that reminded one of the beauty of an angel.