was about what Rosie was. The Colonies all had laws, barring out
undesirables and such, even if a steamer would have taken her, which
none of them would. "I'll tell you what I'd do," said Doc. "I'd give
five hundred dollars to a labor-ship captain, put her aboard at night,
and leave it to him to land her in one of those islands where they eat
you for dinner."

"I couldn't do that," I said.

"Too fond of your money, eh?" he sneers.

"Oh, Doc," I answered, "I'd give everything I possess, lock, stock and
barrel--and ten years of my life thrown in--to be decently quit of her."

He smiled a bit incredulous. "Suppose an angel came down from heaven and
took you at your word," he says. "The next day you'd be beating Mr.
Angel out of his price--you know you would, and screaming worse than she
does at being held to your bargain."

"Perhaps I would, Doc," I agreed, his manner of speaking somehow making
it feel very real; "it's hard to begin without a dollar and nothing but
the clothes you stand in. But downstairs in my safe I have two thousand
dollars in hard cash, American money, which the angel could take and
welcome."

"That's a lot of money," he says, wondering like, "but it would be worth
it to you, wouldn't it?"

"My God, yes," I says, rather regretting I told him about the safe, for
there was a shine in his eyes and a calculating look I didn't like.

"And you wouldn't bilk the angel when he handed in his bill?" he went
on.

"Oh, hell, Doc," I said, "what's the use of talking of angels? I've just
got to grin and bear it."

"But you'd pay, wouldn't you?" he persisted.

I said yes, just to stop his pestering; and after a couple of drinks off
of the sideboard he went away. That evening I locked myself in the
store, took the money out of the safe, and carried it up to the attic
where I hid it under an old mattress. I smeared a little varnish around
the combination lock with a rag, and next day I looked for finger marks,
but there weren't none. Yet I was still suspicious, and the money stayed
in the attic. Doc was too bright a man to have left home without a
reason.

Things went on as usual for a long time--business middling, Doc rounding
up the bars, Rosie raising Cain occasionally, or snarling and muttering
in the hammock just as the humor took her. It was the damnedest life for
a man to lead, just pigging it and worse every day, with no order and
anything--a can of meat for lunch, a can of meat for dinner, and