After a time he took the little ring from his pocket. He moved near the edge of the platform. He lifted the frail, little token of eternal love to his lips and held it there a moment. Then he reached his long arm out over the foaming water and with a groan let the ring fall into the depths of the smoothly flowing Sangamon.
As if loath to leave the place he turned back from the doorway and, leaning against the wall, looked out into the darkness. Shortly after he had done so, someone touched him gently on the arm. With a great start he cried: "Ann! Ann!"
A small figure drew back slightly and a voice said: "I've been lookin' fer you, Abry Linkhorn. You're worse than a bee to run down."
The man hesitated a second, then he held out his hand and said, "Howdy, partner. What did you want with me?"
"I've been numerous in bar hunts as you've heard tell, but I haven't never gone to no berryin', so help me God, but the berryin' of your Ann. And I wouldn't have gone for no one else's 'ceptin' it was you."
"I wish it had been," the man said.
"Maybe so, but since I was thar and you wasn't thar and I heard something that made me pestiferous glad I went, I thought you would like to hear about it."
"You are kind to think of me. What could have made you feel glad?"
"It made me feel glad to learn that God's not—not a damn fool."
"How did you learn this?"