“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.

“Hello, Mr. Kelso,” the bearded man answered.  “The poor vandering Jew has gome back ag’in—­hey?  I tink I haf to take de hump off my back before I gits in.”

Staggering beneath his load he let it down to the ground.

“Bring in your Trojan horse and mind you do not let out its four and twenty warriors until morning.  I’ll have some bread and milk for you in a minute.  Gentlemen, this is my friend Eli—­a wandering pioneer of trade.”

“I haf a vonderful line o’ goods—­vonderful! vonderful!” said Eli, gesturing with both hands.  “Silk an’ satin!  De flowers o’ de prairie, de birds o’ de air could not show you colors like dem.  You vill fall in love.  If I do not let you have dem you vill break your hearts.  An’ I have here one instrument dot make all kinds o’ music.”

“First supper—­then open your Trojan horse,” said Kelso.

“First I must show my goods,” Eli insisted, “ant I’ll bet you take dem all—­everyt’ing vat I have in dot pack an’ you pay my price an’ you t’ank me say ‘Eli, vat you have to drink?’”

“I’ll bet you four bits I don’t,” said Kelso.

“You are my frient; I vould not take your money like dot so easy.  No!  It vould not be right.  These are Scotch goods, gentlemen—­so rare an’ beautiful—­not’ing like dem in de world.”