nd her hand thrust out to the man, who was
bareheaded now, and who looked very much as though he held the wealth of
the world when he clasped only 'Tana's fingers.

"Oh, it is you, is it?" she asked, with a rather lame attempt at careless
speech. "I thought you had forgotten to say good-by to me."

"You knew better," he contradicted. "You knew--you know now it wasn't
because I forgot."

He looked at her moodily from under his dark brows, and noticed the color
flutter over her cheek and throat in an adorable way. She had drawn her
hand from him, and it rested on the window--a slim brown hand, with a
curious ring on one finger--two tiny snakes whose jeweled heads formed the
central point of attraction.

"You said you would not wear that again. If it's a hoodoo, as you thought,
why not throw it away?" he asked.

"Oh--I've changed my mind. I need to wear it so that I will be reminded of
something--something important as a hoodoo," she said, with a strange,
bitter smile.

"Give it back to me, 'Tana," he urged. "I will--No--Max will have
something much prettier for you. And listen, my girl. You are going away;
don't ever come back; forget everything here but the money that will be
yours for the claim. Do you understand me? Forget all I said to you
when--you know. I had no right to say it; I must have been drunk. I--I
lied, anyway."

"Oh, you lied, did you?" she asked, cynically, and her hands were clasped
closely, so close the ring must have hurt her. He noticed it, and kept his
eyes on her hand as he continued, doggedly:

"Yes. You see, little girl, I thought I'd own up before you left, so you
wouldn't be wasting any good time in being sorry about the folks back
here. It wasn't square for me to trouble you as I did. And--I lied. I came
down to say that."

"You needn't have troubled yourself," she said, curtly. "But I see you can
tell lies. I never would have believed it if I hadn't heard you. But I
guess, after all, I will give you the ring. You might want it to give to
some one else--perhaps your wife."

The bell was ringing and the wheels began slowly to revolve. She pulled
the circlet from her finger and almost flung it at him.

"'Tana!" and all of keen appeal was in his voice and his eyes, "little
girl--good-by!"

But she turned away her head. Her hand, however, reached out and the spray
of autumn leaves fluttered to his feet where the ring lay.

Then the rumble of the moving train sounded through the val