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Updated: June 18, 2025
In one place beaver had damned the stream, forming a small lake, and here cranes and other aquatic birds had congregated. Neale saw beaver at work, and deer on the hillside. "It's been three months," he soliloquized, as he paused at the ford which Allie had so bravely and weakly tried to cross at his bidding. "Three months! So much can have happened. But Slingerland is safe from Indians.
"She might hev a fatal hurt, all the same," suggested King. "No!" exclaimed Neale. "That blood's from some one else most likely her murdered mother.... Red, run for some water. Fetch it in your hat. Slingerland, ride after the troops." Slingerland rose and mounted his horse. "Wal, I've an idee. Let's take the girl to my cabin. Thet's not fur from hyar. It's a long ride to the camp.
"I reckon we'll see then where she's hurt," muttered Red King. Evidently Neale thought the same, for he was plainly afraid to place her on her back. "Slingerland, she's not such a little girl," he said, irrelevantly. Then he slipped his hands under her arms again. Suddenly he felt something wet and warm and sticky. He pulled a hand out. It was blood-stained. "Aw!" exclaimed Red.
"You'll need to buy rifles an' shells, thet's all," said Slingerland. "I've hosses an' outfit over at the work-camp, an' I've been huntin' east of thar. Come on, we'll go to a store. Thet train's goin' back soon." "Wal, I come in on thet train an' now I'm leavin' on it," drawled Larry. "Shore is funny. Without even lookin' over this heah Benton."
"Neale, let me tell them," she begged. "Go ahead. Make a strong story. Larry always had leanings toward gold-strikes." And that night, after supper, when the log fire had begun to blaze, and all were comfortable before it, Allie glanced demurely at Larry and said: "Reddy, if you had known that I was heiress to great wealth, would you have proposed to me?" Slingerland roared.
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, spillin' 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!
"Suppose you take us on one of your buffalo-hunts." Slingerland grasped at straws. "Wal, now, thet ain't a bad idee. I can use you," he replied, eagerly. "But it's hard an' dangerous work. We git chased by redskins often. An' you'd hev to ride. I reckon, Neale, you're good enough on a hoss. But our cowboy friend hyar, he can't ride, as I recollect your old argyments."
You're strange hyar, an' thet story will hang over you.... Lass, with all due respect to your father, I reckon you'd better come back to me an' Neale." "Did he tell you to say that?" she whispered, tremulously. "Lord, no!" ejaculated Slingerland. "Does he care for me still?" "Lass, he's dyin' fer you an' I never spoke a truer word."
Slingerland saw Allie Lee married to Neale by that minister of God whose prayer had followed the joining of the rails. And to the old trapper had fallen the joy and the honor of giving the bride away and of receiving her kiss, as though he had been her father.
Next day, without acquainting Slingerland or Larry with his purpose, Neale rode down the valley trail. He expected the road to cross the old St. Vrain and Laramie Trail, but if it did cross he could not find the place. It was easy to lose bearings in these hills.
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