“Well, boys, it’s gittin’ late—­good-night!”

Sonora was the first to make a movement towards the door.

“Come on, boys,” he growled in his deep bass voice; “don’t you intend to let a lady go to bed?”

One by one the men filed through the door which Nick held open for them; but when all but himself had left, the devoted little barkeeper turned to the Girl with a look full of meaning, and whispered: 

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Me?  Oh, no, Nick!” And with a “Good-night, all!  Good-night, Sonora, an’ thank you!  Good-night, Nick!” the Girl closed the door upon them.  The last that she heard from them was the muffled ejaculation: 

“Oh, Lordy, we’ll never git down to Cloudy to-night!”

Now the Girl slid the bolts and stood with her back against the door as if to take extra precautions to bar out any intrusion, and with eyes that blazed she yelled out: 

“Come out o’ that, now!  Step out there, Mr. Johnson!”

Slowly the road agent parted the curtains and came forward in an attitude of dejection.

“You came here to rob me,” at once began the Girl, but her anger made it impossible for her to continue.

“I didn’t,” denied the road agent, quietly, his countenance reflecting how deeply hurt he was by her words.

“You lie!” insisted the Girl, beside herself with rage.

“I don’t—­”

“You do!”

“I admit that every circumstance points to—­”

“Stop!  Don’t you give me any more o’ that Webster Unabridged.  You git to cases.  If you didn’t come here to steal you came to The Polka to rob it, didn’t you?”

Johnson, his eyes lowered, was forced to admit that such were his intentions, adding swiftly: 

“But when I knew about you—­” He broke off and took a step towards her.

“Wait!  Wait!  Wait where you are!  Don’t you take a step further or I’ll—­” She made a significant gesture towards her bosom, and then, laughing harshly, went on denouncingly:  “A road agent!  A road agent!  Well, ain’t it my luck!  Wouldn’t anybody know to look at me that a gentleman wouldn’t fall my way!  A road agent!  A road agent!” And again she laughed bitterly before going on:  “But now you can git—­git, you thief, you imposer on a decent woman!  I ought to have tol’ ’em all, but I wa’n’t goin’ to be the joke o’ the world with you behind the curtains an’ me eatin’ charlotte rusks an’ lemming turnovers an’ a-polkyin’ with a road agent!  But now you can git—­git, do you hear me?”

Johnson heard her to the end with bowed head; and so scathing had been her denunciations of his actions that the fact that pride alone kept her from breaking down completely escaped his notice.  With his eyes still downcast be said in painful fragments: