"Mis’er Marriott," Koerner began presently, "I been an oldt man. I been an hones’ man; py Gott! I vork hardt efery day. I haf blenty troubles. I t’ink ven I lose dot damned oldt leg, I t’ink, vell, maybe I get some rest now bretty soon. I say to dot oldt leg: ’You bin achin’ mit der rheumatiz all dose year, now you haf to kvit, py Gott!’ I t’ink I get some rest, I get some dose damages, den maybe I take der oldt voman undt dose childer undt I go out to der oldt gountry; I go back to Chairmany, undt I haf some peace dere. Vell--dot’s been a long time, Mis’er Marriott; dot law, he’s a damn humpug; he’s bin fer der railroadt gompany; he’s not been fer der boor man. Der boor man, he’s got no show. Dot’s been a long time. Maybe, by undt by I die--dot case, he’s still go on, huh?"
The old man looked at Marriott quizzically.
"Vell, I gan’t go out to der oldt gountry now any more. I haf more drouble--dot poy Archie--vell, he bin in drouble too, and now my girl, dot Gusta--"
A tear was rolling down Koerner’s cheek. Marriott could not answer him just then; he did not dare to look; he could scarcely bear to think of this old man, with his dream of going home to the Fatherland--and all his disappointments. Suddenly, the spring had receded again; the air was chill, the sun lost its warmth, the sky took on the pale, cold glitter of the days he thought were gone. He could hear Koerner’s lips puffing at his pipe. Suddenly, a suspicion came to him.
"Mr. Koerner," he asked, "why aren’t you smoking?"
"Vell--dot’s all right. I hain’t--chust got der tobacco."
The truth flashed on Marriott; this was deprivation--when a man could not get tobacco! He thought an instant; then he drew out his case of cigarettes, took them, broke their papers and seizing Koerner’s hand said:
"Here, here’s a pipeful, anyway; this’ll do till I can send you some."
And he poured the tobacco into Koerner’s bare palm. The old man took the tobacco, pressed it into the bowl of his pipe, Marriott struck a match, Koerner lighted his pipe, and sat a few moments in the comfort of smoking again.
"Dot’s bretty goodt," he said presently. He smoked on. After a while he turned to Marriott with his old shrewd, humorous glance, his blue eyes twinkled, his white brows twitched.