Page:Steadfast Heart.djvu/38

 “But the prisoner is only a child,” argued the minister. “Of course you’ll let me see him. It isn’t your idea that I have a file or rope ladder hidden under my coat, is it?”

Pilkinton scratched his head, but, much as he desired to raise further objections, magnify his responsibility, and display his high sense of duty, he could think of no adequate reason for refusal.

“Wa-al,” he consented, “I guess you kin see him. I’ll stand cluss by the door in case he tries to do you an injury.”

“Thank you,” said Trueman gravely. One of the chief reasons for the affection in which Rainbow held him was that he saw, appreciated, and was considerate of the foibles of others.

“And say,” Pilkinton added, “that there woman, his mother, died las’ night. He hain’t been notified.”

The pastor stepped past the iron door into the little cell, smiling, and cheerily bade the small prisoner good morning. With shrewd eyes he scrutinized Angus Burke’s face; saw dirt, freckles, dullness, apathy—a sort of animal terror—but not depravity, and he sighed.

“Do you remember me, Angus?” he asked.

Angus lifted dull, expressionless eyes and looked briefly at the face of the minister. After