"When would you want it?" asked the shopman.

"To-morrow morning by ten o'clock at latest."

"Oh, impossible!"

"I don't know much about that word," said Nick. "We've cut it out of the
dictionary up my way. Offer your men what they want to do night work, and
I guess they'll name a price."

After all, even in a smart jewellery shop they do not sell a gold bag
every day; and a point was stretched to gratify the purchaser, who had a
way which made people glad to please him.

He went back to his hotel, feeling guilty but happy. "She's going to have
a gold bag, anyhow," he thought. "I don't believe she'll ever know the
difference." And Nick began to rejoice that the old bag would never be
found. It would be splendid to know that she was using a thing _he_ had
given her. If the other bag did turn up, the police would let him know.
That was arranged; and he would manage somehow.

"Only to think," he said to himself, "a year ago I might have been as wild
to do this deal as I am now, but I couldn't have run to it. This is the
first real fun I've got out of my money. Mighty good thing money
is--though I used not to know it mattered. Dollars, even if I'd a million,
could never put me in the same class with an angel. But they give me a
chance to travel with her, and that'll be something to remember."

For Nick had found the angel of his dreams, and had recognized her at