THE STEADFAST HEART
of bitterness. “Nobody cared how finely he lived; nobody gave a thought to the splendid fight he has made. He was still Angus Burke—to be looked at askance. He was still—oh, he would always have been—” she hesitated for a word—“tolerated, if this hadn’t happened. They couldn’t see, and didn’t want to see. Nobody cared—until he saved their money…. And now he’s a hero. Everything’s forgotten because he brought back their nasty hoarded pennies and nickels and dollars.”
And so it was. The verdict of the post office was in Angus’s favor. There were many versions, as there were many people. Indeed it is doubtful if any citizen of Rainbow knew exactly what had happened—except that their savings had been preserved for them, and that Angus Burke had done it. Since the tale had first spread from Gene Goff’s lips while yet Angus was in pursuit of the Judge it had been enlarged, garbled, distorted—but the one fact stood out distinct and admirable in every telling—the money was safe…. And so Angus Burke came into his own at last, not through greatness of soul; not through fineness under trials; not because of the splendidness of his accomplishment, but because eight out of ten residents of the town were not the poorer because of his decision and promptness and readiness. He was
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