"I started to bring it to you," went on Magee, glancing over his shoulder at Max. "I was all aglow with romance, and battle, and all that sort of thing. I pictured the thrill of handing you the thing you had asked. I ran up-stairs. At the head of the stairs--I saw her." The light died in her eyes. Reproach entered there. "Yes," continued Magee, "your knight errant lost his nerve. He ceased to run on schedule. She, too, asked me for that package of money." "And you gave it to her," said the girl scornfully. "Oh, no," answered Magee quickly. "Not so bad as that. I simply sat down on the steps and thought. I got cautious. I decided to wait until to-day. I--I did wait." He paused. The girl strode on, looking straight ahead. Mr. Magee thought of adding that he had felt it might be dangerous to place a package so voraciously desired in her frail hands. He decided he'd better not, on second thought. "I know," he said, "what you think. I'm a fine specimen of a man to send on a hunt like that. A weak-kneed mollycoddle who passes into a state of coma at the crucial moment. But--I'm going to give you that package yet." The girl turned her head. Mr. Magee saw that her eyes were misty with tears. "You're playing with me," she said brokenly. "I might have known. And I trusted you. You're in the game with the others--and I thought you weren't. I staked my whole chance of success on you--now you're making sport of me. You never intended to give me that money--you don't intend to now." "On my word," cried Magee, "I do intend to give it to you. The minute we get back to the inn. I have it safe in my room." "Give it to her," said the girl bitterly. "Why don't you give it to her?" Oh, the perversity of women! "It's you I want to give it to," replied Magee warmly. "I don't know what was the matter with me last night. I was a fool. You don't believe in me, I know--" Her face was cold and expressionless. "And I wanted to believe in you--so much," she said. "Why did you want to?" cried Magee. "Why?" She plodded on through the snow. "You must believe," he pleaded. "I don't know what all this is about--on my word of honor. But I want to give you that money, and I will--the minute we get back to the inn. Will you believe then? Will you?" "I hate you," said the girl simply. She should not have said that. As far back as he could remember, such opposition had stirred Mr. Magee to wild deeds. He opened his mouth and words flowed forth. What were the words? "I love you! I love you! Ever since that moment in the station I have loved you! I love you!" Faintly he heard himself saying it over and over. By the gods, he was proposing! Inanely, in words of one syllable, as the butcher's boy might have told his love to the second kitchen maid. "I love you," he continued. Idiot!