Jonah saw them plainly.
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF SARAH JAMES, Aged Eighty-five.
A fresh burst of grief announced that Dad had deciphered the lettering.
"Sam!" he cried bitterly.

"Me old fren' Sam! To think of bringing him here without letting me know! The besh fren' I ever had." Here sobs choked his utterance.

He stooped and examined the shining marble slab again, lurching from one side to the other with incessant motion.
"An' not a flowersh onsh grave!" he cried.

"Sam was awf'ly fond flowersh." "Get away 'ome, or the Johns'll pinch yer," said Jonah.
Dad stopped and stared at him with a glimmering of reason in his fuddled brain.
"I know yoush," he cried, with a cunning leer.

"An' I know your fren' there.