' abbot this heah place of Slingerland's draws on
a fellar," admitted Larry, resignedly.

Allie did not long stay embarrassed by their sallies.

"Neale, tell me--"

"See heah, Allie, if you call me Reddy an' him only Neale--why he's
a-goin' to pitch into me," interrupted Larry, with twinkling eyes. "An'
he's shore a bad customer when he's r'iled."

"Only Neale? What does he mean?" inquired Allie.

"Beyond human conjecture," replied Neale, laughing.

"Wal, don't you know his front name?" asked Larry.

"Neale. I call him that," she replied.

"Haw! Haw! But it ain't thet."

"Allie, my name is Warren," said Neale. "You've forgotten."

"Oh!... Well, it's always been Neale--and always will be."

Larry rose and stretched his long arms for the pipe on the rude stone
chimney.

"Slingerland," he drawled, "these heah young people need to find out who
they are. An' I reckon we'd do wal to go out an' smoke an' talk."

The trapper came forth from the shadows, and as he filled his pipe his
keen, bright gaze shifted from the task to his friends.

"It's good to see you an' hyar you," he said. "I was a youngster once I
missed--but thet's no matter.... Live while you may!... Larry, come with
me. I've got a trap to set yit."

Allie flashed a glance at them.

"It's not so. You never set traps after dark."

"Wal, child, any excuse is better 'n none. Neale wouldn't never git to
hyar you say all thet sweet talk as is comin' to him--if two old fools
hung round."

"Slingerland, I've throwed a gun for less 'n thet," drawled Larry.
"Aboot the fool part I ain't shore, but I was twenty-five yesterday--an'
I'm sixteen to-day."

They lit their pipes with red embers scraped from the fire, and with
wise nods at Neale and Allie passed out into the dark.

Allie's eyes were upon Neale, with shy, eloquent intent, and directly
the others had departed she changed her seat to one close to Neale; she
nestled against his shoulder, her face to the fire.

"They thought we wanted to make love, didn't they?" she said, dreamily.

"I guess they did," replied Neale.

He was intensely fascinated. Did she want him to make love to her? A
look at her face was enough to rebuke him for the thought. The shadows
from the flickering fire played over her.

"Tell me all about yourself," she said. "Then about your work."

Neale told all that he thought would interest her about his youth in the
East with a widowed mother, the home that was broken up a