“Get out!” said Bunk “You don’t mean it! Well, come to think of it, it was just about the only thing he could do.”
“But he was sincere, I have no doubt of that. He acknowledged that he was satisfied I didn’t shoot his dog, even before Cooper received the letter from Davis.”
“The letter? What letter?”
“Oh, I forgot you didn’t know about that. Spotty, having gone to work in Belford and decided that he’d right likely never come back here, wrote Chipper Cooper, owning up to the shooting of Silver Tongue. In fact, he rejoiced in it and wanted Barker to know that he did it.”
“Oh, say, Roddy, some of the fellers ’round here who tried to smirch you must have felt pretty cheap and sheepish when they heard that.”
“Without exception they have acknowledged their mistake, and I have found them a pretty decent bunch, after all. They’re all good friends with me now. They’re just waiting to see you get out, in order to give you a rousing reception.”
Bunk was silent for several moments, the look of doubt upon his face giving way to one of growing satisfaction and happiness. Presently he spoke again.
“Rod, do you remember what you told me about the feller who had strength enough to be decent and stick to it in spite of everything, finally comin’ out on top of the heap? I didn’t believe it then, but now I kinder guess you was right. I was discouraged and didn’t cal’late ’twas any use for me to try to be decent, but I tell you right now that I’m goin’ to turn over a new leaf, stop wastin’ my time loafin’, and try to do something worth doin’.”
“Bunk,” returned Rodney, “when you get out you’ll find the whole town thinks that you have already done something worth doing.”
THE END