SOMETIME later Danny Orlis propped up on one elbow and turned over to look toward his cousin who was lying in the bed next to him. Danny couldn't see him very well, but he could hear his deep, unnatural breathing. The nurse had given Larry a hypo, and he was still asleep.
Danny shuddered involuntarily. The worst of it, he realized for the first time, was that it was his fault. He had been the only Christian close to Larry to try to win him to Christ. Oh, he had talked with him a couple of times, had asked him to go to Sunday school, had even prayed for him now and then. But he hadn't really, seriously tried to win Larry for Christ. If he had, his cousin wouldn't be in the trouble he was in now, and perhaps Joe wouldn't be lying up there fighting for his life.
The young woodsman rolled over on his stomach and, burying his head in his pillow, began to pray, asking God to forgive him for not trying harder to win Larry to Him. He was still praying when he finally drifted off to sleep. The next morning when he awoke, Larry was already awake, tossing restlessly in bed.
"Hi," Danny said cheerfully.
Larry turned toward him and sat up. "They're coming back to question me, Danny," he said, his voice sounding dull and far away. "They're going to send me to the reform school."
Danny turned toward the window so his cousin couldn't see his face, and Glen picked up the Bible that was lying on the stand beside his bed and began to thumb the pages.
Finally a nurse came in.
"How's Joe?" Danny asked quickly.
A shadow crossed her face. "He regained consciousness for a few minutes a little while ago," she said. With that she cranked up the heads of their beds. "After a wash, the girl will be along with your breakfast."
By the time the boys finished eating, Clarence, the county sheriff, and the state trooper came into the room. Larry looked up at them quickly and turned away.
"We want to find out what happened last night," the sheriff said gently. "And we want to know how you came to be up on the mountain in the first place."
Slowly Danny and Glen told the officers what had happened. Larry lay there listening, but he did not speak. Danny saw that he was twisting one corner of the sheet into a tight little knot and was biting his lip.
"If it hadn't been for Larry knowing how to work the radio in the wrecked plane, we wouldn't have been able to let anyone know where we were," Danny said hopefully.
"If it hadn't been for Larry," Clarence replied, "you wouldn't have been up there in the first place."
Up until that time the men had acted as though Larry hadn't even been in the room. Now they turned to him.
"I believe we'll want to take your story alone, son," the sheriff said softly. "I understand the other two boys are being released, so we'll just wait until after they dress and leave."
Silently Danny and Glen got into their clothes and then said good-bye to Larry.
It was late that afternoon when Uncle Claude finally brought Larry home from the hospital. Danny was sitting in the living room when the family car pulled into the driveway, and Larry got out and began to hobble up the steps on a pair of new crutches. The old defiant, self-reliant grin was on his lips as he stopped and opened the front door.
"How did you make out?" Danny asked him.
"How do you think I made out?" he asked, his smile broadening. "Just like I always do—on the top of the pile."
Danny tried to get a chance to talk with Larry about Christ that night, but his cousin wouldn't even listen to him.
"You can go for that stuff if you want to," Larry snapped, "but I don't need it. I can take care of myself."
Then, before Danny had a chance to say anything more, he picked up his crutches and hobbled into the other room.
Danny and Glen called the hospital after supper and found that Joe was a little better. Then they went down to the basement to Danny's room to pray.
"You know," the young woodsman said a couple of hours later, "it certainly makes a difference having a Christian friend to share things with."
"Just think," Glen replied, "there are a lot of Christian kids all over the country who have to stand alone, who don't even have one Christian friend to run around with."
Danny got to school early the next morning and was in the room before anyone else, except the teacher. The little packet of tracts lay heavily in his pocket. It had all seemed so easy as he worked it out the night before, but now that the time had come for him to pass them out, he could feel the color rising in his cheeks.
With a prayer in his heart Danny went up to the teacher.
"Do you suppose I could put one of these on each desk?" he asked, handing her one of the tracts.
She read it rapidly.
"I'm sorry, Danny," she said, shaking her head, "but I can't let you. Of course, if you want to give them to your friends before school and between classes, that's another matter."
Danny gulped. Give tracts to the guys right to their faces and risk being laughed at? Maybe he could slip out and put them in the kids' coats as they hung in the hall or put them in their books when no one was looking. Certainly he could give them out that way. And it would do just as much good too. There wasn't any need of making a fool of himself. And yet, a vague uneasiness swept over him. And when Larry came hobbling into the room, a sharp sword of remorse was plunged into his heart.
Quietly he bowed his head and prayed, O God, give me the courage to do the things I know You would have me to do.
He had decided exactly how he was going to begin talking to Larry and some of the other guys and what he was going to say, but midway in the second period the superintendent came into the room and got Larry.
Danny's heart leaped into his throat as he saw the grim look on the superintendent's face. A moment later Clarence Gray went striding down the hall in the direction of the superintendent's office.