“Gentlemen, excuse me,” he said, and went out. One of the gamblers also left the room, and another crossed it to peep through the door.
This left the Englishman sitting at the table with the last gambler, whose back was turned toward Allie. She saw the Englishman lean forward to speak. Then the gambler arose and, turning, came directly toward her.
“My name is Place Hough,” he said, speaking rapidly and low. “I am a gambler—but gentleman. I’ve heard strange rumors about you, and now I see for myself. Are you Allie Lee?”
Allie’s heart seemed to come to her throat. She shook all over, and she gazed with piercing intensity at the man. When he had arisen from the table he had appeared the same black-garbed, hard-faced gambler as any of the others. But looked at closely, he was different. Underneath the cold, expressionless face worked something mobile and soft. His eyes were of crystal clearness and remarkable for a penetrating power. They shone with wonder, curiosity, sympathy.
Allie instinctively trusted the voice and then consciously trusted the man. “Oh, sir, I am—distressed—ill from fright!” she faltered. “If I only dared—”
“You dare tell me,” he interrupted, swiftly. “Be quick. Are you here willingly with this man?”
“Oh no!”
“What then?”
“Oh, sir—you do not think—I—”
“I knew you were good, innocent—the moment I laid eyes on you,... Who are you?”