It was a little after three o'clock in the morning when Jonas located him. Enoch was leaning against the wall watching the roulette table.
"Good evening, boss," said Jonas.
Enoch looked round at him. "That you, Jonas? I haven't touched a card or a dollar this evening, Jonas."
Jonas, who had already ascertained this from the owner of the gambling house, nodded.
"Have you had your supper yet, boss?"
Enoch hesitated, thinking heavily. "Why, no, Jonas, I guess not." Then he added irritably, "A man must rest, Jonas. I can't slave all the time."
"Sure!" returned the colored man, holding his trembling hands behind him. "But how come you to think this was rest, boss? You better come back now and let me fix you a bite to eat."
"Jonas, what's the use? Who on earth but you cares what I do? What's the use?"
"Miss Diana Allen," said Jonas softly, "she told Mr. Abbott this noon, at lunch, that you was one of the great men of this country and that he was a lucky dog to spend all his time with you."
Enoch stood, his arms folded on his chest, his massive head bowed.
Finally he said, "All right, old man, I'll try again. But I'm lonely,
Jonas, lonely beyond words, and all the greatness in the world, Jonas,
can't fill an empty heart."