un of it--the pleasure of
seeing a girl wade a brook, innocently immodest, suddenly ceased for
Neale. There was something else. He had only meant to tease; he was
going to carry her; he started back. And then he halted. There was a
strange earnestness in Allie's face--a deliberateness in her intent, out
of all proportion to the exigency of the moment. It was as if she must
cross that brook. But she kept halting. "Come on!" Neale called. And she
moved again. Every time this happened she seemed to be compelled to go
on. When she got into the swift water, nearly to her knees, then she
might well have faltered. Yet she did not falter. All at once Neale
discovered that she was weak. She did not have the strength to come
on. It was that which made her slip and halt. What then made her try so
bravely? How strange that she tried at all! Stranger than all was her
peculiar attitude toward the task--earnest, sober, grave, forced.

Neale was suddenly seized with surprise and remorse. That which actuated
this girl Allie was merely the sound of his voice--the answer to his
demand. He plunged in and reached her just as she was slipping. He
carried her back to the side from which she had started. It cost him
an effort not to hold her close. Whatever she was--orphan or waif, left
alone in the world by a murdering band of Sioux--an unfortunate girl to
be cared for, succored, pitied--none of these considerations accounted
for the change that his power over her had wrought in him.

"You're not strong," he said, as he put her down.

"Was that it?" she asked, with just a touch of wonder. "I used to
wade--anywhere."

He spoke little on the way back up the brook, for he hesitated to tell
her that he must return to his camp so as to be ready for important work
on the morrow, and not until they were almost at the cabin did he make
up his mind. She received the intelligence in silence, and upon reaching
the cabin she went to her room.

Neale helped Larry and Slingerland with the task of preparing a meal
that all looked forward to having Allie share with them. However, when
Slingerland called her there was no response.

Neale found her sunk in the old, hopeless, staring, brooding mood. He
tried patience at first, and gentleness, but without avail. She would
not come with him. The meal was eaten without her. Later Neale almost
compelled her to take a little food. He felt discouraged again. Time had
flown all too swiftly, and there was Larry c