re by Abe, and thinks, like you and Sarah, that the boy
will make somethin' some day. Well, I hope he will--can't tell."

Mr. Jones's store was the popular resort of Gentryville. Says one of the
old pioneers, Dougherty: "Lincoln drove a team, and sold goods for
Jones. Jones told me that Lincoln read all of his books, and I remember
the History of the United States as one. Jones afterward said to me that
Lincoln would make a great man one of these days--had said so long
before to other people, and so as far back as 1828 and 1829."

The store was full of men and boys when Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and
Waubeno arrived. Dennis Hanks was there, and the Grigsbys. Josiah
Crawford, who had made Abraham pull fodder for three days for allowing a
book that he had lent him to get wet one rainy night, was seated on a
barrel. His nose was very long, and he had a high forehead, and wide
look across the forehead. He looked very wise and thought himself a
Solomon.

The men and boys all seemed to be glad to see the Tunker, and they
greeted Waubeno kindly, though curiously, and plied him with civil
questions about Black Hawk.

There was to be a debate that evening, and Mr. Jones called the men to
order, and each one mounted a barrel and lit his pipe--or all except
Abraham and Waubeno, who did not smoke, but who stood near each other,
almost side by side.

"Abraham," said Thomas Lincoln, "you'll have to argue the p'int for the
Indian well to-night, or--there he is!"--pointing to Waubeno--"he'll
answer ye."

The debate went slowly at first, then grew exciting. When Abraham
Lincoln's turn came to speak, all the store grew still. The subject of
the debate was, as Thomas Lincoln had said: "Which has the greater cause
for complaint, the Indian or the negro?"

Abraham Lincoln claimed the Indian was more wronged than the negro, and
his homely face glowed as with a strange fire as he pictured the red
man's wrongs. He towered above the men like a giant, and moved his arms
as though they possessed some invisible power.

Waubeno fixed his eyes on him, and felt the force and thrust of his
every word.

"If I were a negro," said Lincoln, "I would hope that some redeemer and
deliverer would arise, like Moses of old. But if I were an Indian, what
would I have to hope for, if I fell under the avarice of the white man?
Let the past answer that."

"Let the heavens answer that," said Waubeno, "or let their gates be ever
closed."

Thomas Lincoln