osity, sympathy.

Allie instinctively trusted the voice and then consciously trusted the
man. "Oh, sir, I am--distressed--ill from fright!" she faltered. "If I
only dared--"

"You dare tell me," he interrupted, swiftly. "Be quick. Are you here
willingly with this man?"

"Oh no!"

"What then?"

"Oh, sir--you do not think--I--"

"I knew you were good, innocent--the moment I laid eyes on you,... Who
are you?"

"Allie Lee. My father is Allison Lee."

"Whew!" The gambler whistled softly and, turning, glanced at the door,
then beckoned Ancliffe. The Englishman arose. In the adjoining rooms
sounds of strife were abating.

"Ancliffe, this girl is Allie Lee--daughter of Allison Lee--a big man
of the U.P.R.... Something terribly wrong here." And he whispered to
Ancliffe.

Allie became aware of the Englishman's scrutiny, doubtful, sad, yet kind
and curious. Indeed these men had heard of her.

"Hough, you must be mistaken," he said.

Allie felt a sudden rush of emotion. Her opportunity had come. "I am
Allie Lee. My mother ran off with Durade--to California. He used her as
a lure to draw men to his gambling-hells--as he uses me now... Two years
ago we escaped--started east with a caravan. The Indians attacked us. I
crawled under a rock--escaped the massacre. I--"

"Never mind all your story," interrupted Hough. "We haven't time for
that. I believe you... You are held a close prisoner?"

"Oh yes--locked and barred. I never get out. I have been threatened
so--that until now I feared to tell anyone. But Durade--he is going mad.
I--I can bear it no longer."

"Miss Lee, you shall not bear it," declared Ancliffe. "We'll take you
out of here."

"How?" queried Hough, shortly.

Ancliffe was for walking right out with her, but Hough shook his head.

"Listen," began Allie, hurriedly. "He would kill me the instant I tried
to escape. He loved my mother. He does not believe she is dead. He lives
only to be revenged upon her... He has a desperate gang here. Fresno,
Mull, Stitt, Black, Grist, Dayss, a greaser called Mex, and others--all
the worst of bad men. You cannot get me out of here alive except by some
trick."

"How about bringing the troops?"

"Durade would kill me the first thing."

"Could we steal you out at night?"

"I don't see how. They are awake all night. I am barred in, watched
... Better work on Durade's weakness. Gold! He's mad for gold. When the
fever's on him he might gamble me away--or sell me for