"I won't howl about that," said he. "I'll wire. And I can get another
train by and by--when I want it," he added under his breath. Then he let
the carriage drive away.




IX

THE LAST ACT OF THE GOLD BAG COMEDY


"May I go out, ma'am, and see what they'll be givin' me for the gold bag?"
Kate asked, when the unpacking--for a few days--was done at a Los Angeles
hotel.

This was a sore subject with Angela. She believed that she disliked the
bag; but also she disliked having it go out of her life beyond recall.
"Think of the money he spent, and the trouble he took!" something seemed
to moan in her mind. But with an impersonal air she gave Kate permission,
dismissing the past as represented by the Hilliard incident, and plunging
into the joy of arranging future motor-cars and trains--a future which was
to concern her, and Kate, and Kate's cat alone, not Mr. Hilliard.

A singularly sympathetic and apparently intelligent hotel clerk not only
advised a motor for sightseeing in the neighbourhood, but recommended one
owned and invented by a friend. It was a "clipper," he said; could do
anything but climb trees or jump brooks, and might be hired by Mrs. May,
at a reasonable price, for a day, a week, a month, a year. Angela felt