“Then--then,” the old man groaned--“then I can't take your money.” “But you'll have to,” Nelson smiled, sadly. “I can _make_ you do it. I'll give you no other recourse. I shall simply instruct the bank in the morning to place it to your credit and charge it to my account. If you don't draw it out, neither you nor I will get the benefit of it, for I shall never touch it again.” Taking his hat, Nelson moved towards the door, followed by the tottering, faintly protesting old man. And as he was leaving the last words the visitor heard were: “I can't take it, sir. I can't take money from you, as bad as I need it. I can't--I can't!” When Nelson Floyd reached the hotel it was eleven o'clock. He found Pole seated in the dark at an open window, his coat and shoes off. He was smoking. “Well, here you are,” was the mountaineer's greeting. “I was sorter sleepy, but I wanted to hear what you done, so I run down an' got me a nickel cigar. Then I've put in my time watchin' the folks in the street. I'll be dadblasted ef thar ain't as many night-hawks on the wing now as thar was jest after supper.” Nelson threw off his coat and hat and sat down and recounted briefly all that had taken place at Floyd's, Pole smoking thoughtfully the while. When Nelson ceased speaking Pole rose and began to undress. “So the blamed old codger talked like he wasn't goin' to draw the money, eh?” he said. “Well, that sorter upsets me; I can't exactly make it out, Nelson. I'll have to think that over. It ain't what I expected him to do. I thought he'd pounce on it like a duck on a June-bug. No, that's quar, I tell you--powerful quar!” They had been in bed perhaps two hours and Floyd was asleep, when something waked him and he lay still, listening. Then, looking through the darkness, he saw Pole sitting on the edge of his bed, his feet on the floor. “It ain't no use,” Floyd heard him muttering; “I can't sleep--thar ain't no good in tryin'.” “What's the reason you can't sleep?” Floyd asked, suddenly. “Oh!” Pole exclaimed, “I didn't know you was awake. I heard you breathin' deep an' natural jest a minute ago.” “But why can't you sleep?” Floyd repeated. “I don't know, Nelson,” Pole answered, sheepishly. “Don't you bother. Turn over an' git yore rest. I reckon I'm studyin' too much. Thar's nothin' on earth that will keep a feller awake like studyin'. I hain't closed my eyes. I've been lyin' here wonderin' an' wonderin' why that old cuss didn't want to take that money.” “Why, he simply didn't feel like accepting it from a--a stranger and a man he had treated coldly, and perhaps too severely, on a former meeting. You see, he felt unworthy--”