“Red, can you look at men and tell whether or not there’s danger in them?” inquired Neale.
“I shore can. One man could bluff thet outfit.... But I reckon I’d hate to have them find Allie aboot heah alone.”
“I can take care of myself,” spoke up Allie, spiritedly.
Neale and Slingerland, for all their respect for the cowboy’s judgment, regarded the advent of these visitors as a forerunner of an evil time for lonely trappers.
“I’ll hev to move back deeper in the mountains, away from the railroad,” said Slingerland.
This incident also put a different light upon the intention Neale had of hunting for the buried gold. Just now he certainly did not want to risk being seen digging gold or packing it away; and Slingerland was just as loath to have it concealed in or near his cabin.
“Wal, seein’ we’re not sure it’s really there, let’s wait till you come back in summer or fall,” he suggested. “If it’s thar it’ll stay thar.”
All too soon the dawn came for Neale’s departure with Larry. Allie was braver than he. At the last he was white and shaken. She kissed Larry.
“Reddy, you’ll take care of yourself—and him,” she said.
“Allie, I shore will. Good-by.” Larry rode down the trail in the dim gray dawn.