“Good-by, Allie.... I’ll come back. Never forget!”
She stayed motionless on her knees with the mass of hair hiding her face, and she neither spoke nor made a sign.
Neale went out. The air seemed to wave in his face, cool and relieving. Larry was there with the horses. Slingerland stood by with troubled eyes. Both men stared at Neale. He was aware of that, and conscious of his agitation. And suddenly, as always at a climax of emotion, he swiftly changed and grew cool.
“Red, old pard, congratulate me! I’m engaged to marry Allie!” he said, with a low laugh that had pride in it.
“Wal, damn me!” ejaculated Larry King. Then he shot out the hand that was so quick with rope and gun. “Put her thar! Shore if you hadn’t made up to her I’d have.... An’, Neale, if you say Pard, I’m yours till I’m daid!”
“Pard!” replied Neale, as he met the outstretched hand.
Slingerland’s hard and wrinkled face softened.
“Strange how we all cottoned to thet girl! No—I reckon it ain’t so strange. Wal, it’s as it oughter be. You saved her. May you both be happy, son!”
Neale slipped a ring from his little finger.
“Give Allie this. Tell her it’s my pledge. I’ll come back to her. And she must think of that.”