ough why you should want to think about a thing like
me I don't see. And I used to despise a crook as much as any one! and a
coward still more! And now I'm both a crook and a coward."

I knew his cowardice was merely on Nellie's account. George Taylor was
no coward in the ordinary sense of the word, nor was he a crook. I rose
and paced up and down the room. He watched me listlessly; it was plain
that he felt no confidence whatever in my being able to help him. After
a time he spoke.

"It's no use, Ros," he said. "Don't worry your head about me; I ain't
worth it. If there was any way out, any way at all, I'd have sighted it
long ago. There ain't. Take my advice and leave me. You don't want to be
mixed up with an embezzler."

I turned on him, impatiently. "I have been mixed up, as you call it,
with one before," I said, sharply. "Is my own family record so clean
that I need to pretend--there, George! don't be an idiot. Let me think."

The clock chimed ten. I stopped in my walk and turned to him.

"George," I said, "tell me this: If you had the money to buy back these
bonds belonging to the bank you would be all right, wouldn't you? If you
had it in your hands by to-morrow morning, I mean."

"Yes; IF I had it--but I haven't."

"You could send the money to the brokers and--"

"Send! I wouldn't send; I'd go myself and fetch the bonds back with me.
Once I had them in that safe again I--"

"And you would not take any more risks, even if the market dropped and
they had to sell out your account? Even if you lost every cent of your
investment?"

The fierce earnestness of his answer satisfied even me. "What do you
think I am?" he demanded. "Investment be hanged! It's my name as an
honest man that I care about. Once let me get that back again and I'll
face the poorhouse. Yes, and I'll tell Nellie the truth, all except that
I was a thief; I can't tell her that. But I will tell her that I haven't
got a cent except my salary. Then if she wants to give me up, all right.
I'll bear it as best I can. Or, if she doesn't, and I lose my job here,
I'll get another one somewhere else; I'll work at anything. She and I
can wait and . . . But what is the use of talking like this? I've been
over every inch of the ground a thousand times. There ain't a ray of
light anywhere. The examiner will be here, the bonds will be missing,
and I--I'll be in jail, or in hell, one or the other."

"No, you won't," I said, firmly.

"I won't! Why not?"