"Tell me," he said, with gentle voice and touch--"tell me your name.

Allie--what?"

"Didn't you ever know?" she asked.

"You said Allie. That was all."

He feared this call to her memory, yet he wanted to put her to a test.

Her eyes dilated--the light shaded; they grew sad, dark, humid gulfs of thought. But the old, somber veil, the insane, brooding stare, did not return.

"Allie what?" he repeated.

Then the tears came, softening and dimming the pain. "Allie Lee," she said.

9

Slingerland appeared younger to Neale. The burden of loneliness did not weigh upon him, and the habit of silence had been broken. Neale guessed why, and was actually jealous.

"Wal, it's beyond my calculatin'," the trapper said, out by the spring, where Neale followed him. "She jest changed thet's all. Not so much at first, though she sparked up after I give her your ring. I reckon it come little by little. An' one day, why, the cabin was full of sunshine!... Since then I've seen how she's growed an' brightened.

Workin', runnin' after me--an' always watchin' fer you. Allie's changed to what she is now. Onct, fur back, I recollect she said she had you to live fer. Mebbe thet's the secret. Anyhow, she loves you as I never seen any man loved.... An', son, I reckon you oughter be somewhars near the kingdom of heaven!"

Neale stole oil by himself and walked in the twilight. The air was warm and sultry, full of fragrance and the low chirp of crickets. Within his breast was a full uneasy sensation of imminent catastrophe. Something was rising in him--great--terrible--precious. It bewildered him to try to think of himself, of his strange emotions, when his mind seemed to hold only Allie.

What then had happened? After a long absence up in the mountains he had returned to Slingerland's valley home, and to the little girl he had rescued and left there. He had left her frail, sick-minded, silent, somber, a pale victim to a horrible memory. He had found her an amazing contrast to what she had been in the past. She had grown strong, active, swift. She was as lovely as a wild rose. No dream of his idle fancy, but a fact! Then last--stirring him even as he tried to clarify and arrange this magic, this mystery--had come the unbelievable, the momentous and dazzling a.s.surance that she loved him. It was so plain that it seemed unreal. While near her he saw it, yet could not believe his eyes; he felt it, but doubted his sensibilities. But now, away from the distraction of her presence and with Slingerland's eloquent words ringing in his ears, he realized the truth. Love of him had saved the girl's mind and had made her beautiful and wonderful. He had heard of the infinite transforming power of love; here in Allie Lee was its manifestation. Whether or not he deserved such a blessing was not the question. It was his, and he felt unutterably grateful and swore he would be worthy of this great gift.

Darkness had set in when Neale returned to the cabin, the interior of which was lighted by blazing sticks in a huge stone fireplace.

Slingerland was in the shadow, busy as usual, but laughing at some sally of Larry's. The cowboy and Allie, however, were in plain sight. Neale needed only one look at Larry to divine what had come over that young man. Allie appeared perplexed.

"He objects to my calling him Mr. King and even Larry," she said.

Larry suddenly looked sheepish.

"Allie, this cowboy is a bad fellow with guns, ropes, horses--and I suspect with girls," replied Neale, severely.

"Neale, he doesn't look bad," she rejoined. "You're fooling me.... He wants me to call him Reddy."

"Ahuh!" grunted Neale. He laughed grimly at himself, for again he had felt a pang of jealousy. He knew what to expect from Larry or any other young man who ever had the wonderful good luck to get near Allie Lee.

"All right, call him Reddy," he went on. "I guess I can allow my future wife so much familiarity with my pard."

This confused Allie out of her sweet gravity, and she blushed.

"Sh.o.r.e you're mighty kind," drawled Larry, recovering. "More 'n I reckoned on from a fellar who's sh.o.r.e lost his haid."

"I've lost more 'n that," retorted Neale, "and I'm afraid a certain wild young cowboy I know has lost as much."

"Wal, I reckon somethin' abbot this heah place of Slingerland's draws on a fellar," admitted Larry, resignedly.

Allie did not long stay embarra.s.sed by their sallies.

"Neale, tell me--"

"See heah, Allie, if you call me Reddy an' him only Neale--why he's a-goin' to pitch into me," interrupted Larry, with twinkling eyes. "An'

he's sh.o.r.e a bad customer when he's r'iled."

"Only Neale? What does he mean?" inquired Allie.

"Beyond human conjecture," replied Neale, laughing.

"Wal, don't you know his front name?" asked Larry.

"Neale. I call him that," she replied.

"Haw! Haw! But it ain't thet."

"Allie, my name is Warren," said Neale. "You've forgotten."

"Oh!... Well, it's always been Neale--and always will be."

Larry rose and stretched his long arms for the pipe on the rude stone chimney.

"Slingerland," he drawled, "these heah young people need to find out who they are. An' I reckon we'd do wal to go out an' smoke an' talk."

The trapper came forth from the shadows, and as he filled his pipe his keen, bright gaze shifted from the task to his friends.

"It's good to see you an' hyar you," he said. "I was a youngster once I missed--but thet's no matter.... Live while you may!... Larry, come with me. I've got a trap to set yit."

Allie flashed a glance at them.

"It's not so. You never set traps after dark."

"Wal, child, any excuse is better 'n none. Neale wouldn't never git to hyar you say all thet sweet talk as is comin' to him--if two old fools hung round."

"Slingerland, I've throwed a gun for less 'n thet," drawled Larry.

"Aboot the fool part I ain't sh.o.r.e, but I was twenty-five yesterday--an'

I'm sixteen to-day."

They lit their pipes with red embers sc.r.a.ped from the fire, and with wise nods at Neale and Allie pa.s.sed out into the dark.

Allie's eyes were upon Neale, with shy, eloquent intent, and directly the others had departed she changed her seat to one close to Neale; she nestled against his shoulder, her face to the fire.

"They thought we wanted to make love, didn't they?" she said, dreamily.

"I guess they did," replied Neale.

He was intensely fascinated. Did she want him to make love to her? A look at her face was enough to rebuke him for the thought. The shadows from the flickering fire played over her.