He shook Two-Bits' paw, looking up earnestly into his face, while the blushing became more furious.
"Marvelous are the ways of Providence!" he boomed. "Let us give thanks."
He doffed his hat, and still clinging to Two-Bits' hand, lowered his head.
"Almighty Father, whose blessings are diverse and manifold, we, brothers of the flesh, give our thanks to Thee for bringing about this reunion on earth. We realize, oh Lord, that these mundane moments are but brief forerunners of greater joys that are to come, that they are but passing pleasures; but joy here below is a rare thing and from this valley of tears and sin we lift our hearts and our voices in thanks that such blessings have been visited upon us by Thy blessed magnanimity!"
He lifted his head and honest tears showed behind his spectacles.
"And now, brother,"—in a brusk, business-like manner, "you, too, will be interested in this article which I was about to demonstrate to the congregation."
He replaced his hat with a dead punk, held the pen aloft in gesture, drew a pad of paper from one of his sagging pockets and continued:
"Made of India rubber, combined in a secret process with Belgian talc and Swedish, water-proof shellac, this pen will withstand the acid action of the strongest inks. It is self-filling, durable, compact, artistic in design. The clip prevents its falling from the pocket and consequent loss.
"The point is of the finest, specially selected California, eighteen carat gold. It was designed by that peerless inventor, Thomas Edison. Its every feature, from the safety shank to the velvet tip, is covered by patents granted by the authority of this great republic!
"It does not leak!"—shaking it vigorously. "It does not fail to flow. It does not scratch or prick. Follow me closely, men; watch every move."