by Grey, Zane
"Some of thim laughed at him; some of thim stared. But Lee wuz dead in earnest an' growin' more excited ivery min nit. I heerd him mutter low: 'My Gawd! it can't be! Her child! ... In a gamblin' hell! But that face! ... Ah! where else could I expect the child of such a mother?'
"An' Lee went closer to where the gurl was waitin'. His party follered an' I follered too.... Jest whin the moosic sthopped an' the gurl looked up; thin she seen Lee. Roight out he sthepped away from the crowd. He wuz whiter 'n a ghost.
An' the gurl she seemed paralyzed. Sthrange it wor to see how she an' him looked alike thin.
"The crowd seen somethin' amiss, an' went quiet, starin' an' nudgin'....
Gineral, dom' me if the gurl's face didn't blaze. I niver seen the loike. An' she sthepped an' come straight fer Lee. An' whin she sthopped she wuz close enough to touch him. Her eyes wor great burnin' holes an' her face shone somethin' wonderful.
"Lee put up a shakin' hand.
"'Gurl,' he sez, 'did yez iver hear of Allison Lee?'
"An' all her seemed to lift.
"'He is my father!' she cried. 'I am Allie Lee!'
"Ah! thin that crowd wuz split up by a mon wot hurried through. He wuz a greaser; one of thim dandies on dress an' diamonds; a handsome, wicked-lookin' gambler. Seein' the gurl, he snarled, 'Go back there!' an' he pointed. She niver even looked at him.
"Some wan back of me sez thot's Durade. Wal, it was! An' sudden he seen who the gurl wuz watchin'; Lee.
"Thot Durade turned green an' wild-eyed an' stiff. But thot couldn't hould a candle to Lee. Shure he turned into a fiend. He bit out a Spanish name, nothin' loike Durade.
"An' loike a hissin' snake Durade sez, 'Allison Lee!'
"Thin there wuz a dead-lock between thim two men, wid the crowd waitin' fer hell to pay. Life-long inimies, sez I, to meself, an' I hed the whole story.
"Durade began to limber up. Any man what knows a greaser would have been lookin' fer blood. 'She; wint; back; to yez!' panted Durade.
"'No; thief; Spanish dog! I have not seen her for nineteen years,' sez Lee.
"The gurl spoke up: 'Mother is dead! Killed by Injuns!'
"Thin Lee cried out, 'Did she leave HIM?'
"'Yes, she did,' sez the gurl. 'She wuz goin' back. Home! Takin' me home. But the caravan wuz attacked by Injuns. An' all but me wor massacred."
"Durade cut short the gurl's spache. If I iver seen a reptoile it wuz thin.
"'Lee, they both left me,' he hisses. 'I tracked them. I lost the mother, but caught the daughter.'
"Thin thot Durade lost his spache fer a minnit, foamin' at the mouth wid rage.
If yez niver seen a greaser mad thin yez niver seen the rale thin'. His face changed yaller an' ould an' wrinkled, wid spots of red. His lip curled up loike a wolf's, an' his eyes; they wint down to little black points of hell's fire. He wuz crazy.
"'Look at her!' he yelled. 'Allie Lee! Flesh an' blood yez can't deny! Her baby!
... An' she's been my slave; my dog to beat an' kick! She's been through Benton!
A toy fer the riff-raff of the camps! ... She's as vile an' black an' lost as her treacherous mother!'
"Allison Lee shrunk under thot shame. But the gurl! Lord! she niver looked wot she was painted by thot devil. She stood white an' still, like an angel above judgment.
"Durade drew one of thim little derringers. An' sudden he hild it on Lee, hissin' now in his greaser talk. I niver seen sich hellish joy on a human face.
Murder was nothin' to thot look.
"Jist thin I seen Neale an' Slingerland, an', by Gawd! I thought I'd drop. They seemed to loom up. The girl screamed wild-loike an' she swayed about to fall.
Neale leaped in front of Lee.
"'Durade!' he spit out, an' dom' me if I didn't expect to see the roof fly off."
McDermott wiped his moist face and tipped his empty glass to his lips, and swallowed hard. His light-blue eyes held a glint.
"Gineral," he went on, "yez know Neale. How big he is! Wot nerve he's got! There niver wor a mon his equal on the U. P. 'ceptin' Casey.... But me, nor any wan, nor yez, either, ever seen Neale loike he wuz thin. He niver hesitated an inch, but wint roight fer Durade. Any dom' fool, even a crazy greaser, would hev seen his finish in Neale. Durade changed quick from hot to cold. An' he shot Neale.
"Neale laughed. Funny ringin' sort of laugh, full of thot same joy Durade hed sung out to Lee. Hate an' love of blood it wor. Yez would hev thought Neale felt wonderful happy to sthop a bullet.
"Thin his hand shot out an' grabbed Durade.... He jerked him off his feet an' swung him round. The little derringer flew, an' Sandy McDermott wuz the mon who picked it up. It'll be Neale's whin I see him.... Durade jabbered fer help. But no wan come. Thot big trapper Slingerland stood there with two guns, an' shure he looked bad. Neale slung Durade around, spillinl some fellars who didn't dodge quick, an' thin he jerked him up backwards.
"An' Durade come up with a long knife in the one hand he had free.
"Neale yelled, 'Lee, take the gurl out!'
"I seen thin she hed fainted in Lee's arms. He lifted her; moved away; an' thin I seen no more of thim.
"Durade made wild an' wicked lunges at Neale, only to be jerked off his balance.
I heerd the bones crack in the arm Neale held. The greaser screamed. Sudden he wuz turned agin, an' swung backwards so thot Neale grabbed the other arm; the wan wot held the knife. It wuz a child in the grasp of a giant. Neale shure looked beautiful, I niver wished so much in me loife fer Casey as thin. He would hev enjoyed thot foight, fer he bragged of his friendship fer Neale. An'; "
"Go on, man, end your story!" ordered the general, breathlessly.
"Wal, b'gorra, there wuz more crackin' of bones, an' sich screams as I niver heerd from a mon. Tumble, blood-curdlin'! ... Neale held both Durade's hands an' wuz squeezin' thot knife-handle so the greaser couldn't let go.
"Thin Neale drew out thot hand of Durade's; the wan wot held the knife; an' made
Durade jab himself, low down! ... My Gawd! how thot jenteel Spaniard howled! I seen the blade go in an' come out red. Thin Slingerland tore thim apart, an' the greaser fell. He warn't killed. Mebbe he ain't goin' to croak. But he'll shure hev to l'ave Roarin' City, an he'll shure be a cripple fer loife."
McDermott looked at the empty glass.
"That's all, Gineral. An' if it's jist the same to yez I'll hev another drink."
Chapter 32
The mere sight of Warren Neale had transformed life for Allie Lee. The shame of being forced to meet degraded men, the pain from Durade's blows, the dread that every hour he would do the worst by her or kill her, the sudden and amazing recognition between her and her father; these became dwarfed and blurred in the presence of the glorious truth that Neale was there.
She had recognized him with reeling senses and through darkening eyes. She had seen him leap before her father to confront that glittering-eyed Durade. She had neither fear for him nor pity for the Spaniard.
Sensations of falling, of being carried, of the light and dust and noise of the street, of men around her, of rooms and the murmur of voices, of being worked over and spoken to by a kindly woman, of swallowing what was put to her mouth, of answering questions, of letting other clothes be put upon her; she was as if in a trance, aware of all going on about her, but with consciousness riveted upon one stunning fact; his presence. When she was left alone this state gradually wore away, and there remained a throbbing, quivering suspense of love.
Her despair had ended. The spirit that had upheld her through all the long, dark hours had reached its fulfilment.
She lay on a couch in a small room curtained off from another, the latter large and light, and from which came a sound of low voices. She heard the quick tread of men; a door opened.
"Lee, I congratulate you. A narrow escape!" exclaimed a deep voice, with something sharp, authoritative in it.
"General Lodge, it was indeed a narrow shave for me," replied another voice, low and husky.
&n
bsp; Allie slowly sat up, with the dreamy waiting abstraction less strong. Her father, Allison Lee, and General Lodge, Neale's old chief, were there in the other room.
"Neale almost killed Durade! Broke him! Cut him all up!" said the general, with agitation. "I had it from McDermott, one of my spikers; a reliable man.... Neale was shot; perhaps cut, too.... But he doesn't seem to know it."
Allie sprang up, transfixed and thrilling.
"Neale almost killed; him!" echoed Allison Lee, hoarsely. Then followed a sound of a chair falling.
"Indeed, Allison, it's true," broke in a strange voice. "The street's full of men; all talking; all stirred up."
Other men entered the room.
"Is Neale here?" queried General Lodge, sharply.
"They're trying to hold him up; in the office. The boys want to pat him on the back.... Durade was not liked," replied some one.
"Is Neale badly hurt?"
"I don't know. He looked it. He was all bloody."
"Colonel Dillon, did you see Neale?" went on the sharp, eager voice.
"Yes. He seemed dazed; wild. Probably badly hurt. Yet he moved steadily. No one could stop him," answered another strange voice.
"Ah! here comes McDermott!" exclaimed General Lodge. Allie's ears throbbed to a slow, shuffling, heavy tread. Her consciousness received the fact of Neale's injury, but her heart refused to accept it as perilous. God could not mock her faith by a last catastrophe.
"Sandy; you've seen Neale?"
Allie loved this sharp, keen voice for its note of dread. "Shure. B'gorra, yez couldn't hilp seein' him. He's as big as a hill an' his shirt's as red as
Casey's red wan. I wint to give him the little gun wot Durade pulled on him.
Dom' me! he looked roight at me an' niver seen me," replied the Irishman.
"Lee, you will see Neale?" queried General Lodge. There was a silence.
"No," presently came a cold reply. "It is not necessary. He saved me; injury perhaps. I am grateful. I'll reward him."
"How?" rang General Lodge's voice.
"Gold, of course. Neale was a gambler. Probably he had a grudge against this
Durade.... I need not meet Neale, it seems, I am somewhat; overwrought. I wish to spare myself further excitement."
"Lee; listen!" returned General Lodge, violently. "Neale is a splendid young man; the nerviest, best engineer I ever knew. I predicted great things for him.
They have come true."
"That doesn't interest me."
"You'll hear it, anyhow. He saved the life of this girl who has turned out to be your daughter. He took care of her. He loved her; was engaged to marry her....
Then he lost her. And after that he was half mad. It nearly ruined him."
"I do not credit that. It was gambling, drink; and bad women that ruined him."
"No!"
"But, pardon me, General. If; as you intimate; there was an attachment between him and my unfortunate child, would he have become an associate of gamblers and vicious women?"
"He would not. The nature of his fury, the retribution he visited upon this damned Spaniard, prove the manner of man he is."
"Wild indeed. But hardly from a sense of loyalty. These camps breed blood-spillers. I heard you say that."
"You'll hear me say something more, presently," retorted the other, with heat scarcely controlled. "But we're wasting time. I don't insist that you see Neale.
That's your affair. It seems to me the least you could do would be to thank him.
I certainly advise you not to offer him gold. I do insist, however, that you let him see the girl!"
"No!"
"But, man.... Say, McDermott, go fetch Neale in here."
Allie Lee heard all this strange talk with consternation. An irresistible magnet drew her toward those curtains, which she grasped with trembling hands, ready, but not able, to part them and enter the room. It seemed that in there was a friend of Neale's whom she was going to love, and an enemy whom she was going to hate. As for Neale seeing her; at once; only death could rob her of that.
"General Lodge, I have no sympathy for Neale," came the cold voice of Allison
Lee.
There was no reply. Some one coughed. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and a hum of distant voices.
"You forget," continued Lee, "what happened not many hours ago when your train was saved by that dare-devil Casey; the little book held tight in his locked teeth; the letter meant for this Neale from one of Benton's camp-women.... Your engineer read enough. You heard. I heard.... A letter from a dying woman. She accused Neale of striking her; of killing her.... She said she was dying, but she loved him.... Do you remember that, General Lodge?"
"Yes, alas! ... Lee, I don't deny that. But; "
"There are no buts."
"Lee, you're hard, hard as steel. Appearances seem against Neale. I don't seek to extenuate them. But I know men. Neale might have fallen; it seems he must have. These are terrible times. In anger or drink Neale might have struck this woman.... But kill her; No!"
A gleam pierced Allie Lee's dark bewilderment. They meant Beauty Stanton, that beautiful, fair woman with such a white, soft bosom and such sad eyes; she whom
Larry King had shot. What a tangle of fates and lives! She could tell them why
Beauty Stanton was dying. Then other words, like springing fire, caught Allie's thought, and a sickening ripple of anguish convulsed her. They believed Beauty
Stanton had loved Neale; had; Allie would have died before admitting that last thought to her consciousness. For a second the room turned black. Her hold on the curtains kept her from falling. With frantic and terrible earnestness; the old dominance Neale had acquired over her; she clung to the one truth that mattered. She loved Neale; belonged to him; and he was there! That they were about to meet again was as strange and wonderful a thing as had ever happened.
What had she not endured? What must he have gone through? The fiery, stinging nature of her new and sudden pain she could not realize.
Again the strong speech became distinct to her.
"... You'll stay here; and you, Dillon.... Don't any one leave this room.... Lee, you can leave, if you want. But we'll see Neale, and so will Allie Lee."
Allie spread the curtains and stood there. No one saw her. All the men faced the door through which sounded slow, heavy tread of boots. An Irishman entered. Then a tall man. Allie's troubled soul suddenly calmed. She saw Neale.
Slowly he advanced a few steps. Another man entered, and Allie knew him by his buckskin garb. Neale turned, his face in the light. And a poignant cry leaped up from Allie's heart to be checked on her lips. Was this her young and hopeful and splendid lover? She recognized him, yet now did not know him. He stood bareheaded, and her swift, all-embracing glance saw the gray over his temples, and the eyes that looked out from across the border of a dark hell, and face white as death and twitching with spent passion.
"Mr.; Lee," he panted, very low, and the bloody patch on his shirt heaved with his breath, "my only; regret; is; I didn't; think to make; Durade; tell the truth....
He lied.... He wanted to; revenge himself; on Allie's mother; through Allie....
What he said; about Allie; was a lie; as black as his heart. He meant evil; for her.
But; somehow she was saved. He was a tiger; playing; and he waited; too long. You must realize; her innocence; and understand. God has watched over Allie Lee! It was not luck; nor accident. But innocence! ... Hough died to save her! Then
Ancliffe! Then my old friend; Larry King! These men; broken; gone to hell; out here; felt an innocence that made them; mad; as I have just been.... That is proof; if you need it.... Men of ruined lives; could not rise; and die; as they did; victims of a false impression; of innocence.... They knew!"
Neale's voice sank to a whisper, his eyes intent to read belief in the cold face of Allison Lee.
"I thank you, Neale, for your service to me and your defense of her," he said.
"What can I do for y
ou?"
"Sir; I; I; "
"Can I reward you in any way?"
The gray burned out of Neale's face. "I ask; nothing; except that you believe me."
Lee did not grant this, nor was there any softening of his cold face.
"I would like to ask you a few questions," he said. "General Lodge here informed me that you saved my; my daughter's life long ago.... Can you tell me what became of her mother?"
"She was in the caravan; massacred by Sioux," replied Neale. "I saw her buried.
Her grave is not so many miles from here."
Then a tremor changed Allison Lee's expression. He turned away an instant: his hand closed tight; he bit his lips. This evidence of feeling in him relaxed the stony scrutiny of the watchers, and they shifted uneasily on their feet.
Allie stood watching; waiting, with her heart at her lips.
"Where did you take my daughter?" queried Lee, presently.
"To the home of a trapper. My friend; Slingerland," replied Neale, indicating the buckskin-clad figure. "She lived there; slowly recovering. You don't know that she lost her mind; for a while. But she recovered.... And during an absence of
Slingerland's; she was taken away."
"Were you and she; sweethearts?"
"Yes."
"And engaged to marry?"
"Of course," replied Neale, dreamily.
"That cannot be now."
"I understand. I didn't expect; I didn't think...."
Allie Lee had believed many times that her heart was breaking, but now she knew it had never broken till then. Why did he not turn to see her waiting there; stricken motionless and voiceless, wild to give the lie to those cold, strange words?
"Then, Neale; if you will not accept anything from me, let us terminate this painful interview," said Allison Lee.
"I'm sorry. I only wanted to tell you; and ask to see; Allie; a moment," replied
Neale.
"No. It might cause a breakdown. I don't want to risk anything that might prevent my taking the next train with her."
"Going to take her; back East?" asked Neale, as if talking to himself.
"Certainly."
"Then; I; won't see her!" Neale murmured, dazedly.
At this juncture General Lodge stepped out. His face was dark, his mouth stern.