ather
wouldn't give him any of the money due, for fear the too scrupulous
attorney would give him a receipt in full for collecting. Finally, Mr.
Lincoln went away after yielding enough to say he might accept two
hundred and fifty dollars sometime in a pinch of some sort.

"The occasion was not long delayed--but it was not because of illness or
any special necessity in his own family. His young partner, 'Billy'
Herndon, had been carousing with several of his cronies in a saloon
around on Fourth Street, and the gang had broken mirrors, decanters and
other things in their drunken spree. The proprietor, tired of such work,
had had them all arrested.

"Mr. Lincoln, always alarmed when Billy failed to appear at the usual
hour in the morning, went in search of him, and found him and his
partners in distress, locked up in the calaboose. The others were
helpless, unable to pay or to promise to pay for any of the damages, so
it devolved on Mr. Lincoln to raise the whole two hundred and fifty
dollars the angry saloon keeper demanded.

"He came into our office out of breath and said sheepishly:

"'I reckon I can use that two-fifty now.'

"'Check or currency?' asked father.

"'Currency, if you've got it handy.'

"'Give Mr. Lincoln two hundred and fifty dollars,' father called to a
clerk in the office.

"There was a moment's pause, during which my father refrained from
asking any questions, and Mr. Lincoln was in no mood to give
information. As soon as the money was brought, the tall attorney seized
the bills and stalked out without counting it or saying anything but
'Thankee, Mr. Man,' and hurried diagonally across the square toward the
Court House, clutching the precious banknotes in his bony talons.

"Father saw him cross the street so fast that the tails of his long coat
stood out straight behind; then go up the Court House steps, two at a
time, and disappear.

"We learned afterward what he did with the money. Of course, Bill
Herndon was penitent and promised to mend his ways, and, of course, Mr.
Lincoln believed him. He took the money very much against his will, even
against his principles--thinking it might save his junior partner from
the drunkard's grave. But the heart of Abraham Lincoln was hoping
against hope."

CHAPTER XVI

HIS KINDNESS OF HEART

PUTTING TWO YOUNG BIRDS BACK IN THE NEST

Mr. Lincoln's tender-heartedness was the subject of much amusement among
his fellow attorneys. One day, while