"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."

"Yes, he would have done it," Angela echoed. "I'm not cross with you,
though I hoped you would refuse. I'd no right to dictate when it meant
your sacrificing a lot of money--a hundred pounds at least, which would go
begging unless you accepted."

"A hundred pounds!" the girl stammered. "Oh, I didn't know the bag was
worth the half of that! Will I give it back to the gentleman?"