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Updated: May 18, 2025
A rude cabin with a red-stone chimney and clay-chinked cracks between the logs, stuffed to bursting with furs and pelts and horns and traps, marked the home of the trapper. "Wal, we're hyar," sung out Slingerland, and in the cheery tones there was something which told that the place was indeed home to him. "Shore is a likely-lookin' camp," drawled Red, throwing his bridle.
From appearances Neale concluded that she had made little use of the things he had brought her. He was conscious of something akin to impatience. He was not sure what he did feel. The situation had subtly changed and grown, all in that brief talk with Slingerland. Neale slowly walked out toward the brook, where he expected to find her.
"Been heah a long time, thet cabin." "Me an' my pard was the first white men in these hyar hills," replied Slingerland. "He's gone now." Then he turned to Neale. "Son, you must be tired. Thet was a ways to carry a girl nigh onto dead.... Look how white! Hand her down to me." The girl's hands slipped nervelessly and limply from their hold upon Neale.
'Slingerland, I want you! he kept yellin' at me. An' I said, 'So it 'pears, but what fer? Then he told me he was goin' after the gold thet Horn had buried along the old Laramie Trail. Wal, I took my outfit, an' we rode back into the hills. You remember them. Wal, we found the gold, easy enough, an' we packed it back to Roarin' City. Thar Neale sent me off on a train to fetch the gold to you.
They was from Californy." "Wal, I'll be lookin' fer men with thet Californy brand," drawled King, and in his slow, easy, cool speech there was a note deadly and terrible. Neale slowly ceased his sobbing. "My nerve's gone," he said, shakily. "No. It jest broke you all up to see Slingerland. An' it shore did me, too," replied Larry. "It's hard, but " Slingerland could not finish his thought.
"Allie's gone home back to whar she belongs to come into her own. Thank God! An' you why this day turns you back to whar you was once.... Allie owes her life to you an' her father's life. Think, son, of these hyar times how much wuss it might hev been." Neale's sense of thankfulness was unutterable. Passively he went with Slingerland, silent and gentle.
"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.
The next time Neale looked back the Sioux had split up; some were riding hard after Brush and Pat; the majority were pursuing the other three hunters, cutting the while a little to the right, for Slingerland was working round toward the work-train. Neale saw the smoke of the engine and then the train. It seemed far away. And he was sure the Indians were gaining. What incomparable riders!
The Texan always packed his heavy gun, and certainly no Western men would mistake his quality. These visitors were civil enough, asked for a little tobacco, and showed no sign of evil intent. "Way off the beaten track up hyar," said one. "Yes. I'm a trapper," replied Slingerland. "Whar do you hail from?" "Ogden. We're packin' east." "Much travel on the trail?" "Right smart fer wild country.
But Neale did not see any humor in Slingerland's perplexity or in the cowboy's facetiousness. It was the girl's serious condition that worried him, not her future comfort. "Run out thar!" called Slingerland, sharply. Neale, who was the nearest to the door, bolted outside, to see the girl sitting up, her hair disheveled, her manner wild in the extreme.
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