e Old World cruelty of his nature. She recognized the fact in utter
despair. She had not strength left to keep her eyes open.

After a while Allie grew conscious that Durade had left her. She felt
like a creature that had been fascinated by a deadly snake and then left
to itself; in the mean time she could do nothing but wait. Shudderingly,
mournfully, she resigned herself to the feeling that she must stay under
Durade's control until a dominance stronger than his should release her.
Neale seemed suddenly to have retreated far into the past, to have gone
out of the realm of her consciousness. And yet the sound of his voice,
the sight of his face, would make instantly that spirit of hers--his
spirit--to leap like a tigress in her defense. But where was Neale? The
habits of life were all powerful; and all her habits had been formed
under Durade's magnetic eye. Neale retreated and so did spirit, courage,
hope. Love remained, despairing, yet unquenchable.

Allie's resignation established a return to normal feelings. She ate and
grew stronger; she slept and was refreshed.

The caravan moved on about twenty-five miles a day. At the next camp
Allie tried walking again, to find her feet were bruised, her legs
cramped, and action awkward and painful. But she persevered, and the
tingling of revived circulation was like needles pricking her flesh. She
limped from one camp-fire to another; and all the rough men had a kind
word or question or glance for her. Allie did not believe they were all
honest men. Durade had employed a large force, and apparently he had
taken on every one who applied. Miners, hunters, scouts, and men of no
hall-mark except that of wildness composed the mixed caravan. It spoke
much for Durade that they were under control. Allie well remembered
hearing her mother say that he had a genius for drawing men to him and
managing them.

Once during her walk, when every one appeared busy, a big fellow with
hulking shoulders and bandaged head stepped beside her.

"Girl," he whispered, "if you want a knife slipped into Durade, tell him
about me!"

Allie recognized the whisper before she did the heated, red face with
its crooked nose and bold eyes and ugly mouth. Fresno! He must have
escaped from the Sioux and fallen in with Durade.

Allie shrunk from him. Durade, compared with this kind of ruffian, was a
haven of refuge. She passed on without a sign. But Fresno was safe from
her. This meeting made her aware of an