"For fear somebody will spoil it with another hog story. I'm a little afraid of anything I can say. I would venture this, that the man Webster is a prophet. In his Plymouth address he hears receding into never returning distance the clank of chains and all the horrid din of slavery. It will come true." "Do you think so?" Abe asked. "Surely--there are so many of us who hate it. These Yankees hate it and they and their children are scattering all over the midlands. Their spirit will guide the West. The love of Liberty is the salt of their blood and the marrow of their bones. Liberty means freedom for all. Wait until these babies, coming out here by the wagon load, have grown to manhood. Slavery will have to reckon with them." "I hate it too," said Abe. "Down the Mississippi I have seen men and women sold like oxen. If I live I'm going to hit that thing on the head some day." "Do you still want to be a lawyer?" Kelso asked. "Yes, but sometimes I think I'd make a better blacksmith," said Abe. "I believe you'd do better with the hammer of argument." "If I had the education likely I would. I'm trying to make up my mind what's best for me." "No, you're trying to decide what is best for your friends and your country and for the reign of law and justice and liberty." "But I think every man acts from selfish motives," Abe insisted. Dr. Allen demurred as follows: "The other night you happened to remember that you had overcharged Mrs. Peters for a jug of molasses and after you had closed the store you walked three miles to return the money which belonged to her. Why did you do it?" "For a selfish motive," said Abe. "I believe honesty is the best policy." "Then you took that long walk just to advertise your honesty--to induce people to call you 'Honest Abe' as they have begun to do?" "I wouldn't want to put it that way," said Abe. "But that's the only way out," the Doctor insisted, "and we knowing ones would have to call you 'Sordid Abe.'" "There's a hidden Abe and you haven't got acquainted with him yet," Kelso interposed. "We have all caught a glimpse of him to-night. He's the Abe that loves honor and justice and humanity and their great temple of freedom that is growing up here in the new world. He loves them better than fame or fortune or life itself. I think it must have been that Abe whose voice sounded like a trumpet just now and who sent you off to Mrs. Peters with the money. You haven't the chance to know him that we have. Some day you two will get acquainted." "I don't know how to plead to that indictment," Abe answered. "It looks so serious I shall have to take counsel." At this moment there was a loud rap on the door. Mr. Kelso opened it and said: "Hello, Eli! Come in." A hairy faced, bow legged man, bent under a great pack, partly covered with bed ticking, stood in the doorway.