THE YOUNG Angel sat looking down upon the earth. He was one of Heaven’s youngest and least experienced Angels. His robes were spotless, his wings bright and shining. Beside him sat an older Angel.

“I love all of them, down there in the world,” the young Angel spoke. His voice was clear and sweet, but somehow it lacked a certain quality.

“All of them?” asked the older Angel.

“Yes, every one,” he replied.

“Wait,” the older Angel said, and then took the other by the hand and flew with him closer to the earth, and then down, down, deeper into its vibrations; until there loomed before them a darkened alley.

In the shadows a figure lurked, cap pulled down, coat collar turned up hiding his face. As a man started to pass the alley, the lurking one raised his arm and struck the other on the head with something hard and heavy, knocking him to the sidewalk; then robbing him of his purse, he faded back in the shadows and was gone.

There was something odd in the sprawling attitude of the man left lying there. The young Angel drew near, looked closely, and said,

“He’s dead!”

They followed the course of the murderer; followed him in his fruitless efforts to escape the law. When finally they