again.

"Once more. Come, I've another toast for you. You'll drink this one I
know."

He lifted his cup and rose a little unsteadily. Nance stood with
uplifted cup watching him.

"As the poet sings," he began with a bow to the old woman:

"France has her lily, England the rose,
Everybody knows where the shamrock grows--
Scotland has her thistle flowerin' on the hill,
But the American Emblem--is a One Dollar Bill!"

He broke into a boisterous laugh.

"How's that, old girl?"

"That's bully, stranger!"

He lifted high his cup.

"We drink to the Almighty Dollar!"

"To the Almighty Dollar!" Nance echoed, clinking her cup against his.

He drained it while she again emptied hers over her shoulder.

"By golly, you're all right, old girl. You're a good fellow!" he cried
jovially.

"Yeah--have another?" she urged.

She filled his cup and placed it on his side of the table. His eye had
rested on the gold. He ignored the invitation, lifted a handful of gold
and dropped it with musical clinking into the plate.

"Blood marks--tommyrot!" he sneered.

"Yeah--tommyrot!" she echoed. "That's what I say, too!"

Jim wagged his head sagely:

"Now you're talking sense, old girl!"

He leaned across the table and pointed his finger straight into her
face.

"And don't you forget what I'm tellin' ye tonight--get money, get
money!"

He stopped suddenly and a sneer curled his lips.

"Oh I Get it `fairly'--get it `squarely'--but whatever you do--by
God!--GET IT!"

His uplifted hand crashed downward and gripped the gold. His fingers
slowly relaxed and the coin clinked into the plate.

Nance watched him eagerly.

"Yeah, that's it--get it," she breathed slowly.

Jim lifted his drooping eyes to hers.

"If you've GOT it, you're a god--you can do no wrong. Nobody's goin' to
ask you HOW you got it; all they want to know is HAVE you got it!"

"Yeah, nobody's goin' to ask you HOW you got it," Nance repeated, "they
just want to know HAVE you got it! Yeah--yeah!"

"You bet!"

Jim's head sank in the first stupor of liquor and he dropped into the
chair.

The old woman leaned eagerly over the plate of gold and clutched the
coin with growing avarice. Her fingers opened and closed like a bird
of prey. She touched it lovingly and held it in her hands a long time
watching Jim's nodding head with furtive glances. She dropped a handful
of coin into the plate and watched its effect on the drooping head.