"Mac, they paid you off, didn't they, when they discharged you?"
"Yes."
"Then you must have some money. Give it to me."
The dentist heaved a shoulder uneasily.
"No, I don' want to."
"I've got to have that money. There's no more oil for the stove, and I must buy some more meal tickets to-night."
"Always after me about money," muttered the dentist; but he emptied his pockets for her, nevertheless.
"I — you've taken it all," he grumbled. "Better leave me something for car fare. It's going to rain."
"Pshaw! You can walk just as well as not. A big fellow like you 'fraid of a little walk; and it ain't going to rain."
Trina had lied again both as to the want of oil for the stove and the commutation ticket for the restaurant. But she knew by instinct that McTeague had money about him, and she did not intend to let it go out of the house. She listened intently until she was sure McTeague was gone. Then she hurriedly opened her trunk and hid the money in the chamois bag at the bottom.