"No, father, you are mistaken. I am here, father—your only son, Matt. Please open the door."
"You are fooling me! Didn't you fool me about Matt only last week and throw a pail of water on me, and call me Crazy Will? Go away, I say!"
"No, father, I will not go away! You must open the door! You must! I have been hunting for you so long—ever since mother died and you disappeared, and now that I have found you, we shall never separate again. Open the door; do, please."
These words, spoken with an intensity which cannot be described, had the necessary effect upon the poor, weak-minded man inside of the garret room. Matt heard him move slowly toward the door, and then heard the key turn in the lock. The next instant the door opened, and the boy sprang into the room and caught his father around the neck.
"Oh, father, don't you know me?" he cried, with deep emotion. "It is Matt, your only son!"
He looked his father steadily in the eyes, the tears meanwhile coursing freely down his cheeks. Mr. Lincoln returned the gaze for a moment, then the wild look died out of his eyes, and his breast heaved and he gave a deep sob.
"Matt! Matt! It is really you! My son! my son!"
