Beth Norvell

"Yes," he returned, stepping past, and emptying his pockets on the

white coverlet of the bed. "There is the money."

She glanced at the pile doubtfully.

"What money?"

"Why, yours, of course. The money you told me Albrecht owed you."

She turned, somewhat embarrassed, her eyes upon his surprised face.

"Do you mean that was all you got?" she questioned finally. "Did he

send nothing for the others? Did n't you know he was equally in debt

to every member of the company?"

With these words the entire situation dawned upon him for the first

time. He had been thinking only about Miss Norvell, and had permitted

the rascally manager to escape with the greater portion of his stolen

goods. The realization of how easily he had been tricked angered him,

his face darkening. She read the truth as quickly, and, before he

found speech in explanation, had swept the little pile of loose bills

into her lap.

"Wait here a moment, please," she exclaimed quickly; "I shall be right

back."

He remained as bidden, wondering dimly as to her purpose, yet her brief

absence yielded but little opportunity for thought. He met her at the

door with an indignantly suspicious question: "What have you been doing? Surely, you have n't given all that money

away?"

The girl smiled, a gleam of defiance visible in the uplifted eyes.

"Every cent of it. Why, what else could I do? They actually have

nothing, and must get back to Denver or starve."

For an instant he completely lost his self-control.

"Why did n't you tell me first?" he asked sharply. "Did you suppose I

collected my own money, and could therefore meet your expenses?"

He never forgot the expression which swept instantly into her face--the

quick indignation that leaped from the depths of those dark eyes.

"I was not aware I had ever requested any help from Mr. Winston," she

returned clearly, her slight form held erect. "Your following after

Albrecht was entirely voluntary, but I naturally presumed the money you

brought back belonged to me. You said it did, and hence I supposed it

could be disposed of at my own discretion."

"You have exhibited none."

"That would seem to depend entirely upon the point of view. Until I

request your aid, however, your criticism is not desired."

Both voice and manner were so cold that they were equivalent to

dismissal, but Winston hesitated, already beginning to regret the

bitter harshness of his speech. Beneath his steady gaze her cheeks

flamed hotly.