“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 to seek Durade.

“He has a bad gang,” she added.  “They might kill you.  And do you—­ you think I’d—­ever be—­able to live longer without you?”

Whereupon Neale forgot all about Durade and vengeance, and everything but the nearness and sweetness of this girl.

“When shall we get married?” he asked, presently.

This simple question caused Allie to avert her face, and just at that moment there came a knock on the door.  Allie made a startled movement.

“Come in,” called Neale.

It was his chief who entered.  General Lodge’s face wore the smile that softened it.  Then it showed surprise.

“Neale, you’re transfigured!”

Neale’s laugh rang out.  “Behold cause—­even for that,” he replied, indicating the blushing Allie.

“Son, I didn’t have to play my trump card to fetch you back to work,” said the general.

“If you only had!” exclaimed Neale.

Allie got up, shyly and with difficulty disengaged her hand from Neale’s.

“You—­you must want to talk,” she said, and then she fled.

“A wonderful girl, Neale.  We’re all in love with her,” declared the chief.  “She dropped down on us one night—­asked for protection and you.  She does not talk much.  All we know is that she is the girl you saved back in the hills and has been kept a prisoner.  Here she hides, by day and night.  She will not talk.  But we know she fears some one.”

“Yes, indeed she does,” replied Neale, seriously.  And then briefly he told General Lodge Allie’s story as related by her.

“Well!” ejaculated the chief.  “If that doesn’t beat me! ...  What are you going to do?”

“I’ll keep her close.  Surely she will be safe here—­hidden—­with the soldiers about.”

“Of course.  But you can never tell what’s going to happen.  If she could be gotten to Omaha—­now—­”