Higgins waited.
“Pilot,” Pat whispered, with a knowing little wink, “I want you to fix it for me.”
“To fix it, Pat?”
“Sure, you know what I mean, Pilot,” Pat replied. “I want you to fix it for me.”
“Pat,” said Higgins, “I can’t fix it for you.”
“Then,” said the dying man, in amazement, “what the hell did you come here for?”
“To show you,” Higgins answered, gently, “how you can fix it.”
“Me fix it?”
Higgins explained, then, the scheme of redemption, according to his creed–the atonement and salvation by faith. The man listened–and nodded comprehendingly–and listened, still with amazement–all the time nodding his understanding. “Uh-huh!” he muttered, when the preacher had done, as one who says, I see! He said no other word before he died. Just, “Uh-huh!”–to express enlightenment. And when, later, it came time for him to die, he still held tight to Higgins’s finger, muttering, now and again, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh!”–like a man to whom has come some great astounding revelation.