"
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."
"I know it, boss! I know it!" said Jonas huskily, as he led the way to
the street. There, Enoch insisted on walking the three or four miles
home.
"All right," agreed Jonas, cheerfully. "I guess ghosteses don't mind
travel, and that's all I am, just a ghost.
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