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Neale seemed to come into another world--a paradise. His eyes doubtedthe exquisite azure blue--the fleecy cloud--the golden sunshine.
There was a warm, wet cheek pressed close to his, bright chestnutstrands of hair over his face, tight little hands clutching his breast.He scarcely breathed while he realized that Allie Lee lived. Then hefelt so weak that he could hardly move.
"Allie--you're not dead?" he whispered.
With a start she raised her head. It was absolutely the face of AllieLee.
"I'm the livest girl you ever saw," she replied, with a little low laughof joy.
"Allie--then you're actually alive--safe--here!" he exclaimed, in wildassurance.
"Yes--yes.... With you again! Isn't it glorious? But, oh! I gave you ashock. You frightened me so. Neale, are you well?"
"I wasn't--but I am now."
He trembled as he gazed at her. Yes, it was Allie's face--incomparable,unforgettable. She might have been a little thin and strained. But timeand whatever she had endured had only enhanced her loveliness. No harmhad befallen her--that was written in the white glow of her face, inthe violet eyes, dark and beautiful, with the brave soul shining throughtheir haunting shadows, in the perfect lips, tremulous and tender withlove.
"Neale, they told me you gave up your work--were going to the bad," shesaid, with an eloquence of distress changing her voice and expression.
"Yes. Allie Lee, I loved you so well--that after I lost you--I cared fornothing."
"You gave up--"
"Allie," he interrupted, passionately, "don't talk of ME!... You haven'tkissed me!"
Allie blushed. "I haven't?... That's all you know!"
"Have you?"
"Yes I have--I have.... I was afraid I'd strangled you!"
"I never felt it. I lost all sense of feeling.... Kiss me now! Proveyou're alive and love me still!"
And then presently, when Neale caught his breath again, it was towhisper, "Precious Allie!"
"Am I alive? Do I love you?" she whispered, her eyes like purple stars,her face flooded with a dark rose color.
"I'm forced to believe it, but you must prove it often," he replied.Then he drew her to a seat beside him. "I've had many dreams of you, yetnot one like this.... How is it you are alive? By what Providence?... Ishall pray to Providence all my life. How do you come to be here? Tellme, quick."
She leaned close against him. "That's easy," she replied. "Only sometimeI want to tell you all--everything.... Do you remember the four ruffianswho visited Slingerland's cabin one day when we were all there? Well,they came back one day, the first time Slingerland ever left mealone. They fired the cabin and carried me off. Then they fought amongthemselves. Two were killed. I made up my mind to get on a horse andrun. Just as I was ready I spied Indians riding down. I had to shoot theruffian Frank. But I didn't kill him. Then I got on a horse and triedto ride away. The Indians captured me--took me to their camp. Therean Indian girl freed me--led me away at night. I found a trail andwalked--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 beDurade."
"Durade!" echoed Neale, intensely.
"Yes. He was traveling east. He treated me well, but threatened me. Whenwe reached the construction camp, somewhere back there, he started hisgambling-place. One night I escaped. I walked all that night--all thenext day. And I was about ready to drop when I found this camp. It wasnight again. I saw the lights. They took me in. Mrs. Dillon and theother women were so kind, so good to me. I told them very little aboutmyself. I only wanted to be hidden here and have them send for you. Thenthey 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 ofwaiting.... But now--"
"Allie," burst out Neale, "they never told me a word about you--nevergave me a hint. They sent for me to come back to my job. I could havecome a day sooner--the day Campbell found me.... Oh!"
"I know they did not find you at once. And I learned yesterday they hadlocated 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 howthe chief had been disappointed in you--how he had needed you--how hemust have you back."
"Good Lord! Getting me back would have been easy enough if they had onlytold me!" exclaimed Neale, impatiently.
"Dear, maybe that was just it. I suspect General Lodge cared enoughfor you to want you to come back to your job for your sake--for hissake--for sake of the railroad. And not for me."
"Aha!" breathed Neale, softly. "I wonder!... Allie, how cheap, howlittle I felt awhile ago, when he talked to me. I never was so ashamedin my life. He called me.... But that's over.... You said Durade hadyou. Allie, that scares me to death."
"It scares me, too," she replied. "For I'm in more danger hidden herethan when he had me."
"Oh no! How can that be?"
"He would kill me for running away," she shuddered, paling. "But whileI was with him, obedient--I don't think he would have done me harm. I'mmore 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 ofhis reach."
"But, Allie, that's not possible now," declared Neale, "I'm certainlynot going to lose sight of you, now I've got you again. And I must goback to work. I promised."
"I can stay here--or go along with you to other camps, and be careful toveil myself and hide."
"But that's not safe--not the best plan," protested Neale. Then he gavea 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 killhim."
"I rather guess Larry would. And why not?"
"I don't want Durade killed. It would be dreadful. He never hurt me. Lethim alone. After all, he seems to be the only father I ever knew. Oh, Idon't care for him. I despise him.... But let him live.... He will soonforget me. He is mad to gamble. This railroad of gold is a rich stakefor him. He will not last long, nor will any of his kind."
Neale shook his head doubtfully. "It doesn't seem wise to me--lettinghim go.... Allie, does he use his right name--Durade?"
"No."
"What does he look like? You described him once to me, but I'veforgotten."
Allie resolutely refused to tell him and once more entreated Neale tolet well enough alone, to keep her hidden from the mob, and not to seekDurade.
"He has a bad gang," she added. "They might kill you. And do you--youthink I'd--ever be--able to live longer without you?"
Whereupon Neale forgot all about Durade and vengeance, and everythingbut 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 thatmoment 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 thatsoftened 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 fromNeale'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 thechief. "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 savedback in the hills and has been kept a prisoner. Here she hides, by dayand night. She will not talk. But we know she fears some one."
"Yes, indeed she does," replied Neale, seriously. And then briefly hetold General Lodge Allie's story as related by her.
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"Well!" ejaculated the chief. "If that doesn't beat me!... What are yougoing to do?"
"I'll keep her close. Surely she will be safe here--hidden--with thesoldiers about."
"Of course. But you can never tell what's going to happen. If she couldbe gotten to Omaha--now--"
"No--no," replied Neale, almost violently. He could not bear the thoughtof parting with Allie, now just when he had found her. Then the chief'ssuggestion had reminded Neale of the possibility of Allie's fathermaterializing. And the idea was attended by a vague dread.
"I appreciate how you feel. Don't worry about it, Neale."
"What's this snag the engineers are up against?" queried Neale, abruptlychanging the subject.
"We're stuck. It's an engineering problem that I hope--and expect you tosolve."
"Who ran this survey in the first place?"
"It's Baxter's work--with the men he had under him then," replied thechief. "Somebody blundered. His later surveys make over one hundred feetgrade to the mile. That won't do. We've got to get down to ninety feet.Baxter's stuck. The new surveyor is floundering. Oh, it's bad business.Neale... I don't sleep of nights."
"No wonder," returned Neale, and he felt suddenly the fiery grip of hisold state of mind toward all the engineering obstacles. "I'm going outto look over the ground."
"I'll send Baxter and some of the men with you."
"No, thanks," replied Neale. "I'd rather--take up my job all alone outthere."
The chief's acquiescence was silent and eloquent.
Neale strode outdoors. The color of things, the feel of wind, the soundsof men and horses all about him, had remarkably changed, just as hehimself had incalculably changed; General Lodge had said--transfigured!
He walked down to the construction line and went among the idle men andthe strings of cars, the piles of rails and the piles of ties. He seemedto absorb in them again. Then he walked down the loose, unspiked ties towhere they ended, and so on along the graded road-bed to the point wherehis quick eyes recognized the trouble. They swiftly took in what hadbeen done and what had been attempted. How much needless work begun andcompleted in the building of the railroad! He clambered around in thesand, up and down the ravine, over the rocks, along the stream for halfa mile, and it was laborious work. But how good to pant and sweat oncemore! He retraced his steps. Then he climbed the long slope of the hill.The wind up there blew him a welcome, and the sting and taste of dustwere sweet. His steps was swift. And then again he loitered, with keen,roving glance studying the lay of the ground. Neale's was the deductivemethod of arriving at conclusions. Today he was inspired. And at lengththere blazed suddenly his solution to the problem.
Then he gazed over the rolling hills with contemplative and dreamyvision. They were beautiful, strong, changeless--and he divined now howthey might have helped him if he had only looked with seeing eyes.
Late that afternoon, tired and dusty, he tramped into the big officeroom. General Lodge was pacing the floor, chewing at his cigar; Baxtersat over blueprint papers, and his face was weary; Colonel Dillon,Campbell, and several other young men were there.
Neale saw that his manner of entrance, or the look of him, or bothtogether, struck these men singularly. He laughed.
"It was great--going back to my job!" he exclaimed.
Baxter sat up. General Lodge threw away his cigar with an action thatsuggested a sudden vitalizing of a weary but indomitable spirit.
"Did you find the snag we've struck?" asked Baxter, slowly.
"No," replied Neale.
"Aha! Well, I'll have to take you out tomorrow and show you."
The chief's keen eyes began to shine as they studied Neale.
"No, couldn't find any snag, Baxter, old boy... and the reason isbecause there's no snag to find."
Baxter stared and his worn face reddened. "Boy, somethin's gone to yourhead," he retorted.
"Wal, I should smile, as Larry would say."
Baxter pounded the table. "Neale, it's no smiling matter," he saidharshly. "You come back here, your eye and mind--fresh, but even so, itcan't be you make light of this difficulty. You can't--you can't--"
"But I do!" cried Neale, his manner subtly changing.
Baxter got up. His shaking hand rustled a paper he held. "I know you--ofold. You've tormented me often. You're a boy... But here--this--thisthing has stumped me. I've had no one to help... and I'm gettingold--this damned railroad has made me old. If--if you saw a wayout--tell me--"
Baxter faltered. Indeed he had aged. Neale saw the growth of the greatrailroad with its problems in the face and voice of the old engineer.
"Listen," said Neale, swiftly. "A half-mile down from where you struckyour snag we'll change the course of that stream... We'll change theline--set a compound curve by intersections--and we'll get much lessthan a ninety-foot grade to the mile."
Then he turned to General Lodge. "Chief, Baxter had so many problems--somuch on his mind--that he couldn't think... The work will go ontomorrow."
"But, Neale, you went out without any instrument," protested the chief.
"I didn't need one."
"Son, are you sure? This has been a stumper. What you say--seems toogood--too--"
"Am I sure?" cried Neale, gaily. "Look at Baxter's face!"
Indeed, one look at the old engineer was confirmation enough.
Neale was made much of that night. The chief and his engineers, theofficers and their wives, all vied with one another in their effortsto celebrate Neale's return to work. The dinner party was merry, yetearnest, too. Baxter made a speech, his fine old face alight withgladness as he extolled youth and genius and the inspiring power ofbright eyes. Neale had to answer. His voice was deep and full as he saidthat Providence had returned him to his work and to a happiness hehad believed lost. He denied the genius attributed to him, but not theinspiring power of bright eyes. And he paid a fine tribute to Baxter.
Through all this gaiety and earnestness Allie's lips were mute, andher cheeks flushed and paled by turns. It was an ordeal for her, bothconfusing and poignant. At last she and Neale got away alone to thecabin room where they had met earlier in the day.
They stood at the open window, close together, hands locked, gazingout over the quiet valley. The moon was full, and broad belts of silverlight lay in strong contrast to black shadows. The hour was late. Thesentries paced their beats.
Allie stirred and lifted her face to Neale's. "What they said about youmakes me almost as happy as to see you again," she said.
"They said! Who? What?" asked Neale, dreamily.
"Oh, I heard, I remember!... For instance, Mr. Baxter said you hadgenius."
"He was just eulogizing me," replied Neale. "What he said about yourbright eyes was more to the point, I think."
"It's sweet to believe I could inspire you. But I know--and youknow--that if I had not been here you would have seen through theengineering problem just the same... Now, be honest."
"Yes, I would," replied Neale, frankly. "Though perhaps not so swiftly.I could see through stone today."
"And that proves your worth. Your duty it always has been--to stand byyour chief. Oh, I love him!... He seems so much younger today. You haveencouraged them all... Oh, dear Neale, there is something noble in whatyou can do for him. Can't you see it?"
"Yes, Allie, indeed I do."
"Promise me--never to fail him again."
"I promise."
"No matter what happens to me. I am alive, safe, well... and I'm yours.But something might happen--you can never tell, and I don't referparticularly to Durade and his gang. I mean, life and everything isuncertain out here. So promise me, no matter what happens, that you'llstand by your work."
"I promise that, too," replied Neale, huskily. "But you frighten me. Youfear--for yourself?"
"No, I don't," she protested.
"Fate could not be so brutal--to take you from me. Anyway, I'll notthink of it."
"Do not. Nor will I... I wouldn't have asked you--only this night hassho
wn me your opportunity. I'm so proud--so proud. You'll be great someday."
"Well, if you're so proud--if you think I'm so wonderful--why haven'tyou rewarded me for that little job today?"
"Reward you!... How?"
"How do you suppose?"
She was pale, eloquent, grave. But he was low-voiced, gay, intense.
"Dear Neale--what--what can I do?... I have nothing... so big a thing asyou did today!"
"Child! You can kiss me."
Allie's sweet gravity changed. She smiled. "I shore can, as Larry usedto say. That's my privilege. But you spoke of a reward. My kisses--theyare yours--and as many as the--the grains of sand out there. But theyare not reward."
"No?... Listen. For just one kiss--if I had to earn it so--I would digthat 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 mygood fortune. To think of you and your work!... The future! And you--youonly want kisses."
"Well, since your future must be largely made up of kisses, suppose youbegin your work--right now."
"Oh, you're teasing! Yet when you ask of me--whatever you ask--I haveno mind--no will. Something drags at me... I feel it now--as I usedto--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 thesentries trod monotonously. A coyote yelped, sharp and wild. The windmoaned 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--untilmy reward--"
She raised her face, white and noble in the moonlight.