A novel with a strong religious flavor, a sugar-coated parable. Mother and Son wait outside the prison, during the death hour of the family black sheep. Then they go off together, to give the next month to the service of God, righting the wrongs where possible -- done by the dead man. At the close of the period, the supposedly dead man appears, having escaped the just sentence, and they flee with him, now penitent, leaving a trail of good behind them. As years go on, John Rathbone Oliver continues to write as the greatest living psychologist with no knowledge whatever of women: This sustains that lack.