He enjoyed talking with the other passengers. The speed at
which they traveled seemed a miracle. It had taken the boys a month to
make the trip downstream by flatboat. They were returning upstream in
little more than a week. They were standing together by the rail when
the cabins of Rockport, perched on a high wooded bluff, came into view.
"It sure was good of your pa to give me this chance," said Abe. "I've
seen some sights I wish I hadn't, but the trip has done me good. Sort of
stretched my eyes and ears! Stretched me all over--inside, I mean." He
laughed. "I don't need any stretching on the outside."
Allen looked at his tall friend. They had been together most of the
time. They had talked with the same people, visited the same places,
seen the same sights. Already Allen was beginning to forget them. Now
that he was almost home, it was as if he had never been away. But Abe
seemed different. Somehow he had changed.
"I can't figure it out," Allen told him. "You don't seem the same."
"Maybe I'm not," said Abe. "I keep thinking about some of the things I
saw."
13
[Illustration]
The Lincolns were leaving Pigeon Creek.
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