man; now he was rapidly
striding toward her.

"It's a white gal!" she heard him shout.

Others ran forward as she staggered to meet them.

"I'm alone--I'm--lost!" she faltered.

"A white gal in Injun dress," said another.

And then kind hands were outstretched to her.

"I'm--running--away... Indians!" panted Allie.

"Whar?" asked the lean old scout.

"Over the ridges--miles--twenty miles--more. They had me. I got--away...
four--three days ago."

The group around Allie opened to admit another man.

"Who's this--who's this?" called a quick voice, soft and liquid, yet
with a quality of steel in it.

Allie had heard that voice. She saw a tall man in long black coat and
wide black hat and flowered vest and flowing tie. Her heart contracted.

"ALLIE!" rang the voice.

She looked up to see a dark, handsome face--a Spanish face with almond
eyes, sloe-black and magnetic--a face that suddenly blazed.

She recognized the man with whom her mother had run away--the man she
had long believed her father--the adventurer Durade! Then she fainted.

14

Allie recovered to find herself lying in a canvas-covered wagon, and
being worked over by several sympathetic women. She did not see Durade.
But she knew she had not been mistaken. The wagon was rolling along as
fast as oxen could travel. Evidently the caravan had been alarmed by the
proximity of the Sioux and was making as much progress as possible.

Allie did not answer many questions. She drank thirstily, but she was
too exhausted to eat.

"Whose caravan?" was the only query she made.

"Durade's," replied one woman, and it was evident from the way she spoke
that this was a man of consequence.

As Allie lay there, slowly succumbing to weariness and drowsiness, she
thought of the irony of fate that had let her escape the Sioux only
to fall into the hands of Durade. Still, there was hope. Durade was
traveling toward the east. Out there somewhere he would meet Neale, and
then blood would be spilled. She had always regarded Durade strangely,
wondering that in spite of his kindness to her she could not really care
for him. She understood now and hated him passionately. And if there was
any one she feared it was Durade. Allie lost herself in the past,
seeing the stream of mixed humanity that passed through Durade's
gambling-halls. No doubt he was on his way, first to search for her
mother, and secondly, to profit by the building of the railroad. But he
would ne