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He was the junior curate at St. Lucy's Church in a street close by. In that street there was a young girl dying of consumption who was very lonely, and wanted a good deal of cheering and visiting. I used to see her as often as I could; but when my rheumatism cripples me I am helpless. I soon found out that Miss Neale knew how to comfort the sick, and I asked her to go to the poor girl.
The cowboy flushed and looked insulted. "If any one but you said thet to me he'd hev to eat it." "I beg your pardon, old man. But I'm surprised. It doesn't seem like you.... And then Lord! I'll miss you." "No more 'n I'll miss you, pard," replied Larry. Suddenly Neale had a happy thought. "Red, you go back to Slingerland's and help take care of Allie. I'd feel she was safer."
"Put young Neale on the job. If we ever survey a line through this awful place we'll owe it to him." The assistant, Baxter, told an Irishman standing by and smoking a short, black pipe to find Neale and give him the chief's orders. The Irishman, Casey by name, was raw-boned, red-faced, and hard- featured, a man inured to exposure and rough life.
"I daresay there's a certain amount of truth in that, occasionally. It would certainly explain some of the inexplicable things we all see happen in family life," he remarked. Marise started and cried out piercingly, "Neale, how can you say such things to me!"
From the opposite side, where the dance-hall opened, came a hum that seemed at once music and discordance, gaiety and wildness, with a strange, carrying undertone raw and violent. Hough led Neale across the room to where he could look into the dance-hall. Neale saw a mad, colorful flash and whirl of dancers. Hough whispered in Neale's ear: "Stanton throws the drunks out of here."
Then it is certainly to your interest to be on the winning side. What did Neale, and that other fellow Vail offer?" I sat looking at him steadily for a moment. That he was a shrewd, scheming villain I had no doubt, but the one question which controlled my answer was the thought of how I could best serve her.
"The last of Benton! ... Thank God!" he murmured, brokenly. Well he realized how Providence had watched over him there. And slowly the train moved out upon the dark, windy desert. It took Neale nearly forty-eight hours to reach the new camp Roaring City.
"Wal, I'm shore wishin' you-all good luck," he called, significantly. Neale shot a quick glance at Allie to see if the cowboy's good- humored double meaning had occurred to her. But apparently she had not heard. She seemed to be tiring. Her lips were parted and she panted. "Are you tired? Shall we go back?" he asked. "No I like it," she returned, slowly, as if the thought were strange to her.
Truly only one hope remained that the agile and daring Neale, with his eye of a mountaineer and his genius for estimating distance and grade, might run a line around the gorge. While waiting for Neale the engineers went over the maps and drawings again and again, with the earnestness of men who could not be beaten.
Thence to my Lord's lodgings; and were merry with the young ladies, who make a great story of their appearing before their mother the morning after we carried them, the last week, home so late; and that their mother took it very well, at least without any anger. She called Neale up to her, and sent for a priest, married presently, and went to bed.
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