mind. A day more or less--what was that?...
But they were somehow strange about you. Then Mrs. Dillon told me how
the chief had been disappointed in you--how he had needed you--how he
must have you back."

"Good Lord! Getting me back would have been easy enough if they had only
told me!" exclaimed Neale, impatiently.

"Dear, maybe that was just it. I suspect General Lodge cared enough
for you to want you to come back to your job for your sake--for his
sake--for sake of the railroad. And not for me."

"Aha!" breathed Neale, softly. "I wonder!... Allie, how cheap, how
little I felt awhile ago, when he talked to me. I never was so ashamed
in my life. He called me.... But that's over.... You said Durade had
you. Allie, that scares me to death."

"It scares me, too," she replied. "For I'm in more danger hidden here
than when he had me."

"Oh no! How can that be?"

"He would kill me for running away," she shuddered, paling. "But while
I was with him, obedient--I don't think he would have done me harm. I'm
more afraid now than when I was his prisoner."

"I'll take a bunch of soldiers and go after Durade," said Neale, grimly.

"No. Don't do that. Let him alone. Just get me away safely, far out of
his reach."

"But, Allie, that's not possible now," declared Neale, "I'm certainly
not going to lose sight of you, now I've got you again. And I must go
back to work. I promised."

"I can stay here--or go along with you to other camps, and be careful to
veil myself and hide."

"But that's not safe--not the best plan," protested Neale. Then he gave
a start; his face darkened. "I'll put Larry King on Durade's trail."

"Oh no, Neale! Don't do that! Please don't do that! Larry would kill
him."

"I rather guess Larry would. And why not?"

"I don't want Durade killed. It would be dreadful. He never hurt me. Let
him alone. After all, he seems to be the only father I ever knew. Oh, I
don't care for him. I despise him.... But let him live.... He will soon
forget me. He is mad to gamble. This railroad of gold is a rich stake
for him. He will not last long, nor will any of his kind."

Neale shook his head doubtfully. "It doesn't seem wise to me--letting
him go.... Allie, does he use his right name--Durade?"

"No."

"What does he look like? You described him once to me, but I've
forgotten."

Allie resolutely refused to tell him and once more entreated Neale to
let well enough alone, to keep her hidden from the mob, and not