“‘Young man, there’s not going to be any railroad.’
“Then I blurted out that there WAS going to be a railroad. Some one spoke up: ‘Who said that? Fetch him here.’ Pretty soon I was looking at Major-General Lodge. He was just from the war and he looked it. Stern and dark, with hard lines and keen eyes. He glanced me over.
“‘There is going to be a railroad?’ he questioned sharply.
“‘Of course there is,’ I replied. I felt foolish, disappointed.
“‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘and I’ll never forget his eyes.’
“‘I can use a few more young fellows like you.’ And that’s how I got on the staff.
“Well, we ran a quick survey west to the Bad Lands—for it was out here that we must find success or failure. And Allie, it’s all been like the biggest kind of an adventure. The troops and horses and camps and trails—the Indian country with its threats from out of the air—the wild places with their deer, buffalo, panthers, trappers like Slingerland, scouts, and desperadoes. It began to get such a hold on me that I was wild. That might have been bad for me but for my work. I did well. Allie, I ran lines for the U. P. that no other engineer could run.”
Neale paused, as much from the squeeze Allie suddenly gave him as for an instant’s rest to catch his breath.
“I mean I had the nerve to tackle cliffs and dangerous slopes,” he went on. Then he told how Larry Red King had saved his life, and that recollection brought back his service to the cowboy; then naturally followed the two dominating incidents of the summer.
Allie lifted a blanched face and darkening eyes. “Neale! You were in danger.”