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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Any use to take to the hills?" queried Horn, sharply. "I reckon not. You've no hosses. You'd be tracked down. Hurry along. Thet's best.... An' say, I see you've a young girl hyar. I can take her up behind me." "Allie, climb up behind him," said Horn, motioning to the girl. "I'll stay with mother," she replied. "Go child go!" entreated Mrs. Durade. Others urged her, but she shook her head.
The white of her throat and neck mantled red as she exposed them, intentionally, for the gaze of men. Her beauty was to be used as had been her mother's. But there would be some one who would understand, some one to pity and help her. She had not long to meditate and wait. She heard the heavy steps and voices of men entering the room next hers. Presently Durade called her.
"I want some of my friends to watch the game," replied Hough. "But I don't allow that red-headed cowboy gun-fighter to come into my place." "That is regrettable, for you will make an exception this time ... Durade, you don't stand well in Benton. I do." The Spaniard's eyes glittered. "You insinuate SENOR " "Yes," interposed Hough, and his cold, deliberate voice dominated the explosive Durade.
Soon it developed that Hough, by his spirit and skill, was driving his opponents, inciting their passion for play, working upon their feelings. Durade seemed the weakest gambler, though he had the best luck. Good luck balanced his excited play. The two other gamblers pitted themselves against Hough. The shadows of evening had begun to darken the room when Durade called for lights.
It was a tight squeeze, or else some one held him back. There came a crashing of wood; Ancliffe's body whirled in the aperture and he struggled violently. Allie heard hissing, sibilant Spanish utterances. She stood petrified, certain that Durade had attacked Ancliffe. Suddenly the Englishman crashed through, drawing a supple, twisting, slender man with him.
Allie heard the familiar sing-song calls to the oxen. Soon all was bustle about her, and this fully awakened her. In a moment or more she must expect to be face to face with Durade. What should she tell him? How much should she let him know? Not one word about her mother! He would be less afraid of her if he found out that the mother was dead. Durade had always feared Allie's mother.
This appeared to be the signal for Durade's men to break loose into a mad scramble for the gold. Durade began to scream and rush forward. Allie felt herself drawn backward, along the wall, through her door. It was not so dark in there. She distinguished Hough and Ancliffe. The latter closed the door. Hough whispered to Allie, though the din in the other room made such caution needless.
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.
A lot of wild men, all crazy for gold. Gold that only a few could find and none could keep! ... I pray every night to live to get back home." Mrs. Durade had no reply; she gazed away over the ridges toward the east with a haunting shadow in her eyes. Just then a rifle-shot sounded from up in the ravine. The men paused in their tasks and looked at one another.
They gathered around a table to play faro. Then Durade called for drinks. This startled Allie and she hastened to comply with his demand. When she lifted her eyes and met the glances of these men she had a strange feeling that somehow recalled the California days. Her legs were weak under her; a hot anger labored under her breast; she had to drag her reluctant feet across the room.
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