She
was overwhelmed with her opportunity.
All at once she reached the end of the street. On each side the wall
of lighted tents and houses ceased. Had she missed her way--gone
down a side street to the edge of the desert? No. The rows of lights
behind assured her this was the main street. Yet she was far from
the railroad station. The crowds of men hurried by, as always.
Before her reached a leveled space, dimly lighted, full of moving
objects, and noise of hammers and wagons, and harsh voices. Then
suddenly she remembered.
Benton was being evacuated. Tents and houses were being taken down
and loaded on trains to be hauled to the next construction camp.
Benton's day was done! This was the last night. She had forgotten
that the proprietor of her hall, from whom she rented it, had told
her that early on the morrow he would take it down section by
section, load it on the train, and put it together again for her in
the next town. In forty-eight hours Benton would be a waste place of
board floors, naked frames, debris and sand, ready to be reclaimed
by the desert. It would be gone like a hideous nightmare, and no man
would believe what had happened there.
The gambling-hell where she had expected to find Neale had vanished,
in a few hours, as if by magic.
Pages:
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434