"You can't feel as distressed as you've made me feel. I still owe you the four hundred; and another hundred besides. That makes up the five. And the worst of all is, I can't pay you till Los Angeles. But here is the bag." "Do you hate me so much you've got to give it back?" Nick's eyes implored mercy from the court. "I'm more vexed than I can tell. This is beyond everything! Please take your bag at once." "I swore just now it was your bag. And it is." "Surely, it's hardly necessary for me to tell you I can't keep it?" She held the bag out to him, and when he would have none of it, forced the soft gold mesh into his hand. He let the thing drop, and at the instant of its fall Kate returned, hovering uncertainly. She supposed that Mrs. May's visitor had gone by this time, and had come to ask for a promised book. "Kate, there's been a mistake." Angela said. "This gold bag isn't mine after all, though they look so much alike. Please pick it up from the floor and give it to Mr. Hilliard." These tactics overmastered Nick. He could not let a woman, be she maid or mistress, grovel on the carpet in his presence. He dived for the bag, and, pale and troubled, handed it to Kate. "It seems this has got to be mine," he stammered. "But I don't want it. Will you take the thing? If you won't, it goes out of the window, sure as fate." "Oh, ma'am, what will I do?" cried Kate. "Why, it's a rale fortune! I--_must_ I let him throw it out the window? What all them jewels and gold would mean to me and Tim--the difference in our lives! If I won't have the bag some wicked tramp may find and sell it for drink." "Do as you choose. It has ceased to be my affair," said Angela. "Are you _sure_ you'd fling the bag away, sir, if I say no to it?" the Irish girl implored. "Dead sure." "Then--oh, I _must_ take it! I can't give it up to a tramp, when 'twould buy Tim and me a home. You must be a millionaire, sir, throwing away good money like that." "I've got more than I know what to do with, good or bad," said Nick, drowned in gloom. "Thank you very much for taking it. It's real kind of you. And it's a comfort to me the thing'll be of use to some one." He looked at Angela, but she would not see him. And without another word he effaced himself. "I suppose that snuffs me out," he muttered, dolefully, returning to his own car. Almost, he was minded to leave the train in Texas--to go on by another; or to return to New York and do what he could to forget the hard-hearted angel. But he did not leave the train. He went on doggedly. "I'm hanged if I give up," was his last thought. "It's no soft snap, but I'll make her forgive me before we're through." "You'll not be cross with me, ma'am because I couldn't be lettin' him throw away the beautiful bag?" Kate coaxed her mistress. "I seen he _would_ ha' done it. There was fire in his eyes."