"I have always believed in foreign missions," said Christy, "but when they took you out of the country I found it hard to keep my faith. And now—" he stopped abruptly.
"It was a mighty good day for me when I went," said Jim Perry. "I have got a good deal out of living these past three years."
There was no mistaking the ring in his voice.
"You have snug quarters here," said Perry. "They tell me that you are a prosperous man of affairs."
"I am getting on," said Christy, modestly, "I have some turn, I think, for making money."
"We out in China," said Jim, with a chuckle, "haven't any; it is the last thing we can do. Our strong point is spending. We claim that nobody on earth can surpass us in that. We will invest for you if you like. By the way—" He plunged his hand into his pocket and brought out a flat strip of cardboard which he proceeded to fit together into a money box.
"There!" he said, setting it up gravely on the corner of the mantelpiece. "You will kindly contribute."
"What is it?" asked Christy, regarding the small object distrustfully, very much as if it were a dynamite bomb.
"We are trying," explained Jim, "to raise a special Christmas offering for missions. Along with the rest of her Christmas giving, the church is asked to give to those who have never learned what Christmas is."
There was a slight pause.
"Could anything," Jim asked, "be more acceptable to Him in whose name our festival is kept?"
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