THE STEADFAST HEART
Angus shook his head and fright enlarged his eyes.
“Lick me,” he said.
Trueman was amazed, but even in his amazement he was quick to see the terror his question had aroused.
“You mustn’t be frightened,” he said. “No one will hurt you…. Did you kill Sheriff Bates, Angus?”
“Yes,” said the boy stolidly.
Trueman was shocked. The boy seemed brazen—to have no appreciation of the enormity of the act of depriving a human being of life.
“Why did you shoot him? How came you to do such a thing?”
“He was a robber,” Angus said, and as the memory of those terrifying hours returned to him his face became ghastly and color left his lips. “He was a robber and he come after Dad’s money, and Ma said shoot and I shot.”
“What?” exclaimed Trueman. “What’s that?”
Angus made an effort to explain, but his vagueness, the impossibility of his explanation only confused Trueman.
“Your mother told you to shoot?” he asked. “Why did she do that?”
“The robber come to the door and pounded like that.” Angus illustrated and trembled.
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