"Durade's," replied one woman, and it was evident from the way she
spoke that this was a man of consequence.
As Allie lay there, slowly succumbing to weariness and drowsiness,
she thought of the irony of fate that had let her escape the Sioux
only to fall into the hands of Durade. Still, there was hope. Durade
was traveling toward the east. Out there somewhere he would meet
Neale, and then blood would be spilled. She had always regarded
Durade strangely, wondering that in spite of his kindness to her she
could not really care for him. She understood now and hated him
passionately. And if there was any one she feared it was Durade.
Allie lost herself in the past, seeing the stream of mixed humanity
that passed through Durade's gambling-halls. No doubt he was on his
way, first to search for her mother, and secondly, to profit by the
building of the railroad. But he would never find her mother. Allie
was glad.
At length she fell asleep and slept long, then dozed at intervals.
The caravan halted. Allie heard the familiar sing-song calls to the
oxen. Soon all was bustle about her, and this fully awakened her. In
a moment or more she must expect to be face to face with Durade.
What should she tell him? How much should she let him know? Not one
word about her mother! He would be less afraid of her if he found
out that the mother was dead.
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