The rest is detail.  The trip determined on, preparations were hastened.  A month before the date of starting J.W. had time for no more than a hurried visit to Delafield, to say good-by to the home folk and to the preacher whom he had come to think of as Timothy might have thought of Paul.  Then he had something else to say to Jeannette.  His prospects were becoming so promising that he could ask her a very definite question, and he dared to hope for a definite answer.

Jeannette, troubled at the thought of his long absence in strange lands, consoled herself by her promise, which was his promise also.  As soon as he came home again they would be married.  Brother Drury should officiate, assisted by “the Rev. Martin Luther Shenk, brother of the charming bride,” as J.W. put it.

Walter Drury was not his usual alert self, J.W. thought, and it hurt him to see his much-loved friend touched even a little by the years.  But the pastor brightened up, and grew visibly better as J.W. told him all his plans.

“Just think, Mr. Drury,” he said with animation, “I’m to be a missionary, after all.  Once long ago I remember you suggested I might go to China and see for myself the difference between their religion and ours; and now I’m going to China.  Who knows, maybe I’ll see Joe Carbrook at his work.  And then I’m to go all over the East, to preach the gospel of better tools.”  Then he became thoughtful.  “Don’t you think that’s almost as good as the gospel of better bodies—­Joe’s gospel?”

“Surely, I do,” said the pastor, “if you and Joe preach in the same spirit, knowing that China won’t be saved even by hospitals and modern hardware.  They help.  But remember our understanding; you have your chance now to see the religions of the East.  Going right among the people, as you will, you can find out more in a week than the average tourist ever discovers.  I’ll give you the names of some people who will gladly help you.  And we shall want a full report when you come back.  God bless you, J.W.”

It was a tired preacher who went to bed that night.  This new adventure of his boy’s; what would it mean to the Experiment?  He had done his best to keep that long-ago pledge to himself.  Not always had the project been easy; he could not control all its circumstances, but in the main it had gone well.

And now J.W. was in the last stage of the Experiment Walter Drury had contrived to shape its larger conditions, with the help of many friendly but unsuspecting conspirators.  This tour in the interest of better tools was due mainly to his initiative.  But he could do nothing more.  The event was now out of his hands.  The relaxed tension made him realize that his nerves were shaky, and he had a sense of great depression.  But before he went to bed he pulled himself together long enough to write to five missionaries, including Joe Carbrook, whose fields were on or near the route J.W. would travel.  He had told J.W. that he would let these men know of his coming, but he did more.  To each one he said a word of appeal.  “Don’t argue much with this boy of mine; I want him to see it without too many second-hand opinions.  Explain all you please, and let him get as near as he can to the people you are dealing with.  If, as I hope, he gets a glimpse of the work’s inner meaning, I shall be satisfied.”