The U. P. Trail Part 42

"It seemed--so much to me," faltered Neale.

"Why did you not look at that as you have looked at so many physical difficulties--the running of a survey, for instance?"

"I--I guess I have a yellow streak."

"Why didn't you come to me?" went on the chief. Evidently he had been disappointed in Neale.

"I might have come--only Larry, my friend--he got into it, and I was afraid he'd kill somebody," replied Neale.

"That cowboy--he was a great fellow, but gone wrong. He shot one of the bosses--Smith."

"Yes, I know. Did--did Smith die?"

"No, but he'll never be any more good for the U. P. R., that's certain.... Where is your friend now?"

"I left him in Benton."

"Benton!" exclaimed the chief, bitterly. "I am responsible for Benton.

This great work of my life is a h.e.l.l on wheels, moving on and on....

Your cowboy friend has no doubt found his place--and his match--in Benton."

"Larry has broken loose from me--from any last restraint."

"Neale, what have you been doing?"

And at that Neale dropped his head.

"Idling in the camps--drifting from one place to the next--drinking, gambling, eh?"

"I'm ashamed to say, sir, that of late I have been doing just those things," replied Neale, and he raised his gaze to his chief's.

"But you haven't been a.s.sociating with those camp women!" exclaimed General Lodge, with his piercing eyes dark on Neale.

"No!" cried Neale. The speech had hurt him.

"I'm glad to hear that--gladder than you can guess. I was afraid--But no matter.... What you did do is bad enough. You ought to be ashamed. A young man with your intelligence, your nerve, your gifts! I have not had a single man whose chances compared with yours. If you had stuck you'd be at the head of my engineer corps right now. Baxter is played out.

Boone is ill. Henney had to take charge of the shops in Omaha.... And you, with fortune and fame awaiting you, throw up your job to become a b.u.m... to drink and gamble away your life in these rotten camps!"

General Lodge's scorn flayed Neale.

"Sir, you may not know I--I lost some one--very dear to me. After that I didn't seem to care." Neale turned to the window. He was ashamed of what blurred his eyes. "If it hadn't been for that--I'd never have failed you."

The chief strode to Neale and put a hand on his shoulder. "Son, I believe you. Maybe I've been a little hard. Let's forget it." His tone softened and there was a close pressure of his hand. "The thing is now--will you come back on the job?"

"Baxter's note--Campbell said they'd struck a snag here. You mean help them get by that?"

"Snag! I guess it is a snag. It bids fair to make all our labor and millions of dollars--wasted.... But I'm not asking you to come back just to help us over this snag. I mean will you come back for good--and stick?"

Neale was lifted out of the gloom into which memory had plunged him. He turned to his chief and found him another person. There was a light on his face and eagerness on his lips, and the keen, stern eyes were soft.

"Son, will you come back--stand by me till the finish?" repeated General Lodge, his voice deep and full. There was more here than just the relation of employer to his lieutenant.

"Yes, sir, I'll come back," replied Neale, in low voice.

Their hands met.

"Good!" exclaimed the chief.

Then he deliberately took out his watch and studied it. His hand trembled slightly. He did not raise his eyes again to Neale's face.

"I'll call you--later," he said. "You stay here. I'll send some one in."

With that he went out.

Neale remained standing, his eyes fixed on the gray-green slope, seen through the window. He seemed a trifle unsteady on his feet, and he braced himself with a knee against the couch. His restraint, under extreme agitation, began to relax. A flooding splendid thought filled his mind--his chief had called him back to the great work.

Presently the door behind him opened and closed very softly. Then he heard a low, quick gasp. Some one had entered. Suddenly the room seemed strange, full, charged with terrible portent. And he turned as if a giant hand had heavily swung him around.

It was not light at the other end of the room, yet he saw a slight figure of a girl backed against the door. Her outline was familiar.

Haunting ghost of his dreams! Bewildered and speechless, he stared, trembling all over. The figure moved, swayed. A faint, sweet voice called, piercing his heart like a keen blade. All of a sudden he had gone mad, he thought; this return to his old work had disordered his mind. The tremor of his body succeeded to a dizziness; his breast seemed about to burst.

"NEALE!" called the sweet voice. She was coming toward him swiftly.

"IT'S ALLIE--ALIVE AND WELL!"

Neale felt lifted, as if by invisible wings. His limbs were useless--had lost strength and feeling. The room whirled around him, and in that whirl appeared Allie Lee's face. Alive--flushed--radiant! Recognition brought a maddening check--a shock--and Neale's sight darkened. Tender, fluttering hands caught him; soft strong arms enfolded him convulsively.

18

Neale seemed to come into another world--a paradise. His eyes doubted the exquisite azure blue--the fleecy cloud--the golden sunshine.

There was a warm, wet cheek pressed close to his, bright chestnut strands of hair over his face, tight little hands clutching his breast.

He scarcely breathed while he realized that Allie Lee lived. Then he felt so weak that he could hardly move.

"Allie--you're not dead?" he whispered.

With a start she raised her head. It was absolutely the face of Allie Lee.

"I'm the livest girl you ever saw," she replied, with a little low laugh of joy.

"Allie--then you're actually alive--safe--here!" he exclaimed, in wild a.s.surance.

"Yes--yes.... With you again! Isn't it glorious? But, oh! I gave you a shock. You frightened me so. Neale, are you well?"

"I wasn't--but I am now."

He trembled as he gazed at her. Yes, it was Allie's face--incomparable, unforgettable. She might have been a little thin and strained. But time and whatever she had endured had only enhanced her loveliness. No harm had befallen her--that was written in the white glow of her face, in the violet eyes, dark and beautiful, with the brave soul shining through their haunting shadows, in the perfect lips, tremulous and tender with love.