THE STEADFAST HEART
“You know ’s well as I do,” said Jake, resorting to his warlike tones. “It’s ’cause these here hymn-singin’, prayer-lettin’ folks in Rainbow won’t let him. ’Cause the kids pick on him.”
Bishwhang bristled. “They better not when I’m around.”
“It ’ud fix things so Angus was better able to stick up for himself in the world,” said Jake, reasoning the matter out.
“Jake,” Angus’s voice was anxious. “Will this school learn me that? Will they learn me to—stick up for myself?”
"“I calc’late so.”
“I got to stand up for myself, ain’t I?”
“Bet your life.”
Here was corroboration. It appeared that to go away would really be standing up for himself—but there was still some doubt. The matter of self-respect and of taking his own part in the matter of life was not exactly clear to him—and he felt he must know for certain. He turned it over and over in his mind until he saw a way out—a way to determine finally: he would go to his original source of knowledge, to a sure authority on the abstruse subject—to the person who first set the idea to moving in his brain. He would ask her. Abruptly he turned, and, hatless, left the shop. Bishwhang and Jake watched him in astonishment.
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