“No? ...  Listen.  For just one kiss—­if I had to earn it so—­I would dig that roadbed out there, carry every tie and rail with my bare hands, drive every spike—­”

“Neale, you talk like a boy.  Something, indeed, has gone to your head.”

“Yes, indeed, it has.  It’s your face—­In the moonlight.”

She hid her blushes for a moment on his breast.

“I—­I want to be serious,” she whispered.  “I want to thank God for my good fortune.  To think of you and your work! ...  The future!  And you—­you only want kisses.”

“Well, since your future must be largely made up of kisses, suppose you begin your work—­right now.”

“Oh, you’re teasing!  Yet when you ask of me—­whatever you ask—­I have no mind—­no will.  Something drags at me...  I feel it now—­as I used to—­when you made me wade the brook.”

“Oh!  That’s my sweetest memory of you.  How it haunted me!”

They stood silent for a while.  Out in the moon—­blanched space the sentries trod monotonously.  A coyote yelped, sharp and wild.  The wind moaned low.  Suddenly Neale shook himself, as if awakening.

“Allie, it grows late.  We must say good night...  Today has been blessed.  I am grateful to the depths of my heart...  But I won’t let you go—­until my reward—­”

She raised her face, white and noble in the moonlight.

19

Neale slept in a tent, and when he was suddenly awakened it was bright daylight.  His ears vibrated to a piercing blast.  For an instant he could not distinguish the sound.  But when it ceased he knew it had been a ringing bugle-call.  Following that came the voices and movements of excited troopers.

He rolled from his blankets to get into boots and coat and rush out.  The troopers appeared all around him in hurried orderly action.  Neale asked a soldier what was up.

“Redskins, b’gorra—­before brikfast!” was the disgusted reply.

Neale thought of Allie and his heart contracted.  A swift glance on all sides, however, failed to see any evidence of attack on the camp.  He espied General Lodge and Colonel Dillon among a group before the engineers’ quarters.  Neale hurried up.

“Good morning, Neale,” said the chief, grimly.  “You’re back on the job, all right.”

And Colonel Dillon added, “A little action to celebrate your return, Neale!”

“What’s happened?” queried Neale, shortly.

“We just got a telegraph message:  ‘Big force—­Sioux.’  That’s all.  The operator says the wire was cut in the middle of the message.”

“Big force—­Sioux!” repeated Neale.  “Between here and Benton?”

“Of course.  We sent a scout on horseback down along the line.”

“Neale, you’ll find guns inside.  Help yourself,” said General Lodge.  “You’ll take breakfast with us in the cabin.  We don’t know what’s up yet.  But it looks bad for us—­having the women here.  This cabin is no fort.”