Larry hung his hat between his knees, despite the fact that these were trembling. Then he held out a coat-lapel with one hand and reached into an inner pocket with the other. “Here, Miss,” he said proudly, and laid the purse upon the table beside which she stood; after that he recovered his hat. She caught the purse up with another little cry--an inarticulate cry. Then she turned and walked swiftly to the yellow-shaded candelabrum on a second table at the farther end of the long room. Here she opened the purse, leaning down with her back toward him. It was fully a minute before she straightened and turned and came toward him once more, slowly, the bills in her hand. As she paused near him, something--a change in her carriage or her look--made him retreat a step. “Where did you find it?” she asked brusquely. “Not ten feet from where the wagon stood, Miss. It must ’a’ fell in turnin’.” She was silent a moment. Then, “So you knew where the wagon stood,” she commented. There was no attempt to hide the meaning in her voice. “I--I seen where you was,” stammered Larry, shifting from one foot to the other. “Indeed! You were present at the game, then?” “Yes, Miss. After the ladies and gents went I goes across to that side--ridin’. There she laid, big as life.” “I see.” She walked to and fro a few steps. After a little she paused in her walk and spoke again: “You know of the reward, I suppose?” “Oh, yes, Miss, but----” She interrupted him. Her eyes were angry, her slender figure was rigid, as if with some sudden resolution. “Why did you wait until now?” she demanded. “It’s after seven o’clock. You knew it was mine.” “When Jim told me about the advertisement I did, Miss, and I says to myself, ‘Wasn’t you a crazy not to guess whose it was?’ I says. But, you see, I was on the other side of the field most of the time.” “_Most_ of the time,” she repeated, a little sneeringly. “Were you near the wagon at all?” Her reference was plain. He rubbed at his chin with the back of a shaking hand. “Well, I--I held Miss Townsend’s team a bit,” he admitted huskily. “Oh, you did!” There was a triumphant ring in her voice. “Then I think you have impudence to dare to come to me. If you didn’t take the purse----” “No!” “--You picked it up knowing it belonged to me. And you held it until I offered a reward, instead of coming straight here to give it back. What is the difference between that and theft?” He made no reply, only stood, his back against the door, and stared at her. “I shall not pay you the reward,” she went on. “I found out something about you when you first came in. I counted the money there at that table”--she pointed to the other end of the room--“_and there weren’t seven bills in the purse_. Look!” she held six out to him. His jaw set. He stood upon both feet, bringing heel to heel, his arms at his side.