"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."
"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?"
"It's too late. There would only be a scene. He'd refuse to take the thing."
Kate looked relieved. "Then I'll just try and sell it in the first big city where we're stopping ma'am," she said, with a happy sigh. "You tould me a black cat brought luck!"