It was unusual for a company to volunteer a settlement of this kind; it was still more unusual for the indemnity to be refused. Nancy declined, by letter, first; then the manager asked her to call at the office. She did not come. He took pains to hunt her up at the house of her friends in town. He might have delegated the call, but he chose to make it in person, and was struck by an added dignity, a finer beauty in the saddened face of the girl whom he remembered as a bit of a rustic coquette. He went over the business with her. She was perfectly intelligent in the matter; there had been no misunderstanding. Why then would she not take what belonged to her? Companies were not in the habit of paying claims that were claims of sentiment. “I have made no claim,” said Nancy. “But you have one. You inherited one. We do not propose to rob”-- She put out her hand with a gesture of appeal. “My father had no claim. He never made one, nor meant to make one. I am the best judge of what belongs to me. I don't want this money, and I will never take one cent of it. But there is a claim you can settle, if you are hunting up claims. It won't cost you anything,” she faltered, as if some unguarded impulse had hurried her into a subject that she hardly knew how to go on with. She moved her chair back a little from the light. “There was one of your watchmen, on the Glenn's Ferry beat, who lost his place on account of those breaks coming one after another”-- “Yes,” said the manager; “there were several that did. Which man do you refer to?” The name, she thought, was Travis. Then, blushing, she spoke out courageously:-- “It was Mr. Travis. He was discharged just after the big break. You thought it was his carelessness, but it was not. I am the only one that can say so, and I know it. You lost the best watchman you ever had on the ditch when you took his name off your pay-roll. He worked for more than just his money's worth, and it hurt him to lose that place.” “Are you aware that he made the worst record of any man on the line?” “I don't care what his record was; he kept a good watch. It's no concern of mine to say so,” she said. Trembling and red and white, the tears shining in her honest eyes, she persisted: “He had his reasons for never explaining, and they were nothing to be ashamed of. I think you might believe me!” “I do,” said the manager, willing to spare her. “I will attend to the case of Mr. Travis when I see him. I do not think he has left the country. In fact, he was inquiring about you only the other day, in the office, and he seemed very much concerned to hear of your--of the loss you have suffered. Shall I say that you spoke a good word for him?” “You need not do that,” she answered with spirit. “He knows whether he kept watch. But you may say that I ask, as a favor, that he will answer all your questions; and you need not be afraid to question him.”