“Where is it? I want to see it.”
“I have it safe. I will give it to you soon—I hope.”
“You might have brought it with you. How did you happen to be on this road?”
“I have been to your rancho and they told me where you had gone, so I came out to meet you.”
“Thanks, Sir Knight, and if I had really been a lady in distress you would have been on hand to rescue me.”
“Still acting that play?”
“Well, no, I am coming out of that. You are such a very evident reality that I cannot dream. My, but you are fine. I didn’t notice at first that you had such an elegant outfit, all that silver mounting on your saddle, and those spurs; I suppose you got those all in Mexico. If you had a silver shield and a spear you would be quite like a real knight. You have seen some hard fighting, I have no doubt, but you are back safe in spite of that sabre cut on your forehead. Tell me about the other boys, Reub, and Tom Andrews and the rest.”
“We buried poor old Reub down in Mexico,” said Neal gravely.
“Oh!” Alison’s bright face saddened. “I am so sorry. So many of the boys came safely through that I believed you all would. Poor old Reub,” she said sorrowfully. She scanned Neal’s face. It bore the marks of the two years’ experience; the eyes were less merry, the lines had become firmer, the don’t care expression had left it. “I am glad that you are here,” she said gently. “I cannot bear to think that you, too, might have been left by your friends, there in Mexico, as you left Reuben. I am so very glad you have come back.”
“Are you glad, little girl? Then I am glad, too.”