a horse and run.  Just as I was ready I spied Indians riding down.  I had to shoot the ruffian Frank.  But I didn’t kill him.  Then I got on a horse and tried to ride away.  The Indians captured me—­ took me to their camp.  There an Indian girl freed me—­led me away at night.  I found a trail and walked—­oh, nights and days it seemed.  Then I fell in with a caravan.  I thought I was saved.  But the leader of that caravan turned out to be Durade.”

“Durade!” echoed Neale, intensely.

“Yes.  He was traveling east.  He treated me well, but threatened me.  When we reached the construction camp, somewhere back there, he started his gambling-place.  One night I escaped.  I walked all that night—­all the next day.  And I was about ready to drop when I found this camp.  It was night again.  I saw the lights.  They took me in.  Mrs. Dillon and the other women were so kind, so good to me.  I told them very little about myself.  I only wanted to be hidden here and have them send for you.  Then they brought General Lodge, your chief, to see me.  He was kind, too.  He promised to get you here.  It has been a whole terrible week of waiting....  But now—­”

“Allie,” burst out Neale, “they never told me a word about you—­ never gave me a hint.  They sent for me to come back to my job.  I could have come a day sooner—­the day Campbell found me....  Oh!”

“I know they did not find you at once.  And I learned yesterday they had located you.  That eased my 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.”