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Updated: June 1, 2025
We'll have to " "Listen!" exclaimed Ancliffe, holding up his hand. There appeared to be noise all around, but mostly on the other side of the looming canvas house, behind which was the alleyway that led to Durade's hall. Gleams of light flashed through the gloom. Durade's high, quick voice mingled with hoarser and deeper tones.
No man could tell why he has spared her, but I tell you he will not spare her long. Don't ever forget Hough or Ancliffe or that terrible cowboy. Ancliffe's death was beautiful. I am cold. It's hard to write. All is darkening. I hear the moan of wind. Forgive me! Neale, the difference between me and Allie Lee is a good man's love. Men are blind to woman's agony.
Allie crawled backward and she could see Hough still standing in front. It seemed that he swayed. Then as she rose further her view was cut off. Although she had not looked around, she was aware of a dimly lighted storeroom. Outside the shots had ceased. She heard something heavy fall suddenly; then a patter of quick, light footsteps. Ancliffe essayed to get through the opening feet first.
Always afterward, then, he would think of Beauty Stanton with a grateful heart. She was to be the instrument of his salvation. Hough and Ancliffe had died to save Allie Lee from the vile clutch of Benton; but to Beauty Stanton, the woman of ill-fame, had been given the power. She gloried in it. Allie Lee was safely hidden in her house.
Neale heard the same narrative from the lips of Ancliffe, and it differed only in the essential details of the cowboy's consummate coolness. Ancliffe, who was an eye-witness of the encounter, declared that drink or passion or bravado had no part in determining Larry's conduct. Ancliffe talked at length about the cowboy. Evidently he had been struck with Larry's singular manner and look and action.
Ancliffe had been seen, and not much time could elapse before her whereabouts would be discovered. But Allie bore up bravely. She was in the thick of grim and bloody and horrible reality. Those brave men, strangers to her, had looked into her face, questioned her, then had died for her. It was all so unbelievable. In another room, close to her, lay Ancliffe, dead.
My father is Allison Lee." "Whew!" The gambler whistled softly and, turning, glanced at the door, then beckoned Ancliffe. The Englishman arose. In the adjoining rooms sounds of strife were abating. "Ancliffe, this girl is Allie Lee daughter of Allison Lee a big man of the U.P.R. ... Something terribly wrong here." And he whispered to Ancliffe.
I have been threatened so that until now I feared to tell anyone. But Durade he is going mad. I I can bear it no longer." "Miss Lee, you shall not bear it," declared Ancliffe. "We'll take you out of here." "How?" queried Hough, shortly. Ancliffe was for walking right out with her, but Hough shook his head. "Listen," began Allie, hurriedly. "He would kill me the instant I tried to escape.
Hissing like a snake, Durade stood still, momentarily held back by a fear that quickly gave place to insane rage. "Shoot him!" said Ancliffe, with a coolness which proved his foresight. One of Hough's friends swung a cane, smashing a lamp; then with like swift action he broke the other lamp, instantly plunging the room into darkness.
"I'm glad you spoke about Neale," he said, and there was a curious softness in his voice. "I owe him a great deal. I like him ... Ancliffe will get you out of here and safely back to Neale." Allie knew somehow from something in his tone, his presence that he would never leave this gloomy inclosure. She heard Ancliffe ripping a board off the wall or fence, and that sound seemed alarmingly loud.
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