“It is hard to know that the sweet little voice is silent on earth, but he can hear you—he is a-hearin’ you this minute; he hears the language of your sperit as you vow to ondo the past so fur as you can—to go on in the futer and work for the poor, as he wanted to.
“You can’t go agin these strong desires of your little pardner, Martin—you’ve got to hear to ’em. He is your pardner now jest as much as he ever wuz, and more, only he has gone over the deep waters into another country to tend to the interests of the firm there. It is a country where the Right is always done, where things that are wrong here are made right—he will help you, Martin. He wanted to work for the poor; why not let him?”
He lifted his white face, tears a-streamin’ down it, but as my meanin’ dawned on him his mean grew a little mite brighter.
Sez I, “He is a-workin’ now for ’em.” Sez I, “I see in the new look in your eyes the divine work of your pardner.
“He is helpin’ you this minute to think softer thoughts. He is helpin’ you to remember that you are to spend your money and his—for you told him that it belonged to you both equally—in helpin’ the poor, in helpin’ to surround their lives with safeguards,” sez I, a-wantin’ to strike while the iron wuz hot.
“You are a-goin’ to git some fenders right off, Martin.”
“Order five hundred of them right off—send for a thousand of them.”
“No,” sez I, “Martin, be megum. You’ve got to be megum in fenders as well as any other goodness. Why order a thousand fenders for one hundred cars?
“But,” sez I, “Martin, I will send for ’em.” And I did, that very day, not knowin’ but he would be some like Pharaoh, and his heart would be hardened before night. I told his secretary within a hour, and he ordered ’em before sundown on my word. Oh, they think high on me—all on ’em! He dassent refuse to take my orders.
But I’d no need to have worried—no, indeed! I felt ashamed to think I had let my mind sally back to that old Egyptian Pharaoh.