THE STEADFAST HEART
rate Trueman made no hypocritical excuses. He met the issue squarely and flunked it honestly.
“I calc’late I can arrange things for the time being,” said Wilkins. “There’s a spare room back of mine. Maybe it’s a risk—my associating with such a person—but I guess he won’t muss up my morals to speak of…. That’ll serve for the present.”
Trueman’s face spoke his gratitude…. Wilkins laid his hand on Angus’s arm. “Sonny,” he said, “how’d you like to come and bunk with me for a spell? Don’t need to if you got other plans…. You’ll be as welcome as a sliver in a finger.”
The boy’s dull eyes scrutinized the man’s face. What he saw appeared to satisfy him—if, indeed, he were looking for anything. He made no verbal response, but got to his feet ready to follow. There were no thanks, no exhibition of gratitude, no comprehension. Probably he was unacquainted with the emotion of gratitude, for he had known scant use for it….
“Wilkins,” said Craig Browning, as they walked down the hill through straggling, staring loungers, showing the first sign of embarrassment of lack of self-assurance the editor ever had discovered in the young attorney, “er—this is going to cost you money…. No reason for
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