Allie's thrill of emotion spent itself in a shudder of realization.
Calmly and chivalrously these two strangers had taken a stand against
her enemies and with a few cool words and actions had accepted whatever
might betide.

"I must tell you--oh, I must!" she whispered, with her hand on Hough's
arm. "I heard you send for Neale and Larry King... It made my heart
stop!... Neale--Warren Neale is my sweetheart. See, I wear his ring!...
Reddy King is my dearest friend--my brother!..."

Hough bent low to peer into Allie's face--to see her ring. Then he
turned to Ancliffe.

"How things work out!... I always suspected what was wrong with Neale.
Now I know--after seeing his girl."

"By Jove!" exclaimed Ancliffe.

"Well, I'll block Durade's gang. Will you save the girl?"

"Assuredly," answered the imperturbable Englishman. "Where shall I take
her?"

"Where CAN she be safe? The troop camp? No, too far,... Aha! take her to
Stanton. Tell Stanton the truth. Stanton will hide her. Then find Neale
and King."

Hough turned to Allie. "I'm glad you spoke--about Neale," he said, and
there was a curious softness in his voice. "I owe him a great deal.
I like him... Ancliffe will get you out of here--and safely back to
Neale."

Allie knew somehow--from something in his tone, his presence--that he
would never leave this gloomy inclosure. She heard Ancliffe ripping a
board off the wall or fence, and that sound seemed alarmingly loud. The
voices no longer were heard behind the canvas house. The wind whipped
through the bare framework. Somewhere at a distance were music and
revelry. Benton's night roar had begun. Over all seemed to hang a
menacing and ponderous darkness.

Suddenly a light appeared moving slowly from the most obscure corner of
the space, perhaps fifty paces distant.

Hough drew Allie closer to Ancliffe. "Get behind me," he whispered.

A sharp ripping and splitting of wood told of Ancliffe's progress; also
it located the fugitives for Durade's gang. The light vanished; quick
voices rasped out; then stealthy feet padded over the boards.

Allie saw or imagined she saw gliding forms black against the pale
gloom. She was so close to Ancliffe that he touched her as he worked.
Turning, she beheld a ray of light through an aperture he had made.

Suddenly the gloom split to a reddish flare. It revealed dark forms. A
gun cracked. Allie heard the heavy thud of a bullet against the wall.
Then Hough shot. His derringer made