“Fresno, I am Durade’s girl!” she went on.
“I thought I knowed you. But you’re grown to be a woman an’ a dam’ pretty one.”
Allie drew him aside, farther from the others, who had renewed a loud altercation. “Fresno, it’s gold you want,” she affirmed, rather than asked.
“Sure. But no small stake like thet’d be my choice ag’in’ you,” he leered, jerking a thumb back at his companions.
“You remember Horn?” went on Allie.
“Horn! The miner who made thet big strike out near Sacramento?”
“Yes, that’s who I mean,” replied Allie, hurriedly. “We—we left California in his caravan. He brought all his gold with him.”
Fresno showed a growing interest.
“We were attacked by Sioux.... Horn buried all that gold—on the spot. All—all the others were killed—except me.... And I know where—” Allie shuddered with what the words brought up. But no memory could weaken her.
Fresno opened his large mouth to bawl this unexpected news to his comrades.