When the word was passed around town of Abe Lincoln's bad luck there was much talk. What would he do? There seemed to be just two alternatives, to skin out and leave it all, as the men had done who bought the store, and his partner Berry before them, had done, or to settle down to a lifetime of struggle and pay the debt. Everybody believed Abe Lincoln thoroughly honest, but here was a test that seemed beyond the powers of human endurance. The night the store was closed, Abe Lincoln did not come home to supper. "Where is Abe Lincoln?" the Rutledges asked. Nobody knew. Ann slipped away to the post-office. It was closed. She rattled the door and called his name at the latch-hole but received no answer. Day was drawing to a close, but she made an excuse to go to the mill, and with a little basket on her arm she hurried down the sloping road. Twilight shades were falling over the weather-stained log building which seemed to be drawing itself into the shadows of the trees on the opposite bank of the river. The big, stone wheel was silent, but the waters falling over the dam gave out the sound of something alive. Quietly she approached the wide mill doors which stood open. On the threshold she looked carefully in. For a moment the deeper gloom of the inside blinded her. Then the big, white millstone took shape, and the door, opening onto the river platform. Through this a pale light filtered. Taking a step farther in, she looked again toward some dark outlines which she was sure were not those of pillar or prop, outlines which took the form of a tall, shadowy giant standing against the doorway and looking out upon the river in the falling darkness. She crossed the mill rapidly and softly, and, approaching the tall shadowy figure, touched the giant of the gloom on the arm and said, "Abraham Lincoln." He turned about quickly. "Ann--Ann Rutledge--what are you doing here?" "I have been looking for you." "Why?" "You did not come to supper." "I often go without supper." "I heard of your trouble. I wanted to find you and to help you. You found me in the cellar--and helped me." "And what can you do--what can anyone do for me?" and he turned again to the river. "Look at the darkness. Only _that_ for me." "But light always follows darkness, Abraham. God has planned it so. Sometimes the night is very dark, and very long, but morning comes. It is always so." He was silent and they stood together in the gloom.