I've seen it prosper
and grow big. And I've shared in the prosperity by seeing that my own
interests got their rights along with the rest. I'm where I can look
back. And I can't see where the reputation of being a saint who cut off
his own fingers for a sacrifice would help me get endorsers at the bank
or find friends I could borrow money from. Harlan, boy, I'm an old man.
I can't live much longer. A little reputation of some kind or another
will live after me. I want you to know the right of it. And the only way
for you to find out is to be what I have been. Hearing about it won't
inform you. I want you to meet the men and play the game. I want you to
realize that when I say I've done the best I could, I'm telling you the
truth. Harlan, stand up here with me. Give me your hand. Say that you'll
stand by the old man in this one thing--the biggest he ever has asked of
you. It's a matter between the Thorntons, boy!"
There had been an appeal in his voice that was near wistfulness. And
while he talked the wisdom that had come from the mouth of a child that
evening threaded its own quaint appeal into the argument of the
grandfather.
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