The U. P. Trail

by Zane Grey

  34

  The home to which Allie Lee was brought stood in the outskirts of Omahaupon a wooded bank above the river.

  Allie watched the broad, yellow Missouri swirling by. She liked bestto be alone outdoors in the shade of the trees. In the weeks since herarrival there she had not recovered from the shock of meeting Neale onlyto be parted from him.

  But the comfort, the luxury of her home, the relief from constant dread,such as she had known for years, the quiet at night--these had been sowelcome, so saving, that her burden of sorrow seemed endurable. Yet intime she came to see that the finding of a father and a home had onlyadded to her bitterness.

  Allison Lee's sister, an elderly woman of strong character, resentedthe home-bringing of this strange, lost daughter. Allie had found nosympathy in her. For a while neighbors and friends of the Lees' flockedto the house and were kind, gracious, attentive to Allie. Then somehowher story, or part of it, became gossip. Her father, sensitive, cold,embittered by the past, suffered intolerable shame at the disgrace of awife's desertion and a daughter's notoriety. Allie's presence hurt him;he avoided her as much as possible; the little kindnesses that he hadshown, and his feelings of pride in her beauty and charm, soon vanished.There was no love between them. Allie had tried hard to care for him,but her heart seemed to be buried in that vast grave of the West. Shewas obedient, dutiful, passive, but she could not care for him. Andthere came a day when she realized that he did not believe she had comeunscathed through the wilds of the gold-fields and the vileness of theconstruction camps. She bore this patiently, though it stung her. Butthe loss of respect for her father did not come until she heard men inhis study, loud-voiced and furious, wrangle over contracts and accusehim of double-dealing.

  Later he told her that he had become involved in financial straits, andthat unless he could raise a large sum by a certain date he would beruined.

  And it was this day that Allie sat on a bench in the little arbor andwatched the turbulent river. She was sorry for her father, but she couldnot help him. Moreover, alien griefs did not greatly touch her. Herown grief was deep and all-enfolding. She was heart-sick, and alwaysyearning--yearning for that she dared not name.

  The day was hot, sultry; no birds sang, but the locusts were noisy; theair was full of humming bees.

  Allie watched the river. She was idle because her aunt would not let herwork. She could only remember and suffer. The great river soothed her.Where did it come from and where did it go? And what was to become ofher? Almost it would have been better--

  A servant interrupted her. "Missy, heah's a gennelman to see yo',"announced the Negro girl.

  Allie looked. She thought she saw a tall, buckskin-clad man carryinga heavy pack. Was she dreaming or had she lost her mind? She got up,shaking in every limb. This tall man moved; he seemed real; his bronzedface beamed. He approached; he set the pack down on the bench. Then hiskeen, clear eyes pierced Allie.

  "Wal, lass," he said, gently.

  The familiar voice was no dream, no treachery of her mind. Slingerland!She could not speak. She could hardly see. She swayed into his arms.Then when she felt the great, strong clasp and the softness of buckskinon her face and the odor of pine and sage--and desert dust, she believedin his reality.

  Her heart seemed to collapse. All within her was riot.

  "Neale!" she whispered, in anguish.

  "All right an' workin' hard. He sent me," replied Slingerland, swift toget his message out.

  Allie quivered and closed her eyes and leaned against him. A beautifulsomething pervaded her soul. Slowly the tumult within her breastsubsided. She recovered.

  "Uncle Al!" she called him, tenderly.

  "Wal, I should smile! An' glad to see you--why Lord! I'd nevertell you!... You're white an' shaky, lass.... Set down hyar--on thebench--beside me. Thar!... Allie, I've a powerful lot to tell you."

  "Wait! To see you--and to hear--of him--almost killed me with joy," shepanted. Her little hands, once so strong and brown, but now thin andwhite, fastened tight in the fringe of his buckskin hunting-coat.

  "Lass, sight of you sort of makes me young agin--but--Allie, those arenot the happy eyes I remember."

  "I--am very unhappy," she whispered.

  "Wal, if thet ain't too bad! Shore it's natural you'd be downhearted,losin' Neale thet way."

  "It's not all--that," she murmured, and then she told him.

  "Wal, wal!" ejaculated the trapper, stroking his beard in thoughtfulsorrow. "But I reckon thet's natural, too. You're strange hyar, an' thetstory will hang over you.... Lass, with all due respect to your father,I reckon you'd better come back to me an' Neale."

  "Did he tell you--to say that?" she whispered, tremulously.

  "Lord, no!" ejaculated Slingerland.

  "Does he--care--for me still?"

  "Lass, he's dyin' fer you--an' I never spoke a truer word."

  Allie shuddered close to him, blinded, stormed by an exquisitebitter-sweet fury of love. She seemed rising, uplifted, filled withrich, strong joy.

  "I forgave him," she murmured, dreamily low to herself.

  "War, mebbe you'll be right glad you did--presently," said Slingerland,with animation. "'Specially when thar wasn't nothin' much to forgive."

  Allie became mute. She could not lift her eyes.

  "Lass, listen!" began Slingerland. "After you left Roarin' City Nealewent at hard work. Began by heavin' ties an' rails, an' now he'sslingin' a sledge.... This was amazin' to me. I seen him only onctsince, an' thet was the other day. But I heerd about him. I rode over toRoarin' City several times. An' I made it my bizness to find out aboutNeale.... He never came into the town at all. They said he worked like aslave the first day, bleedin' hard. But he couldn't be stopped. An' thework didn't kill him, though thar was some as swore it would. They saidhe changed, an' when he toughened up thar was never but one man as couldequal him, an' thet was an Irish feller named Casey. I heerd it wassomethin' worth while to see him sling a sledge.... Wal, I never seenhim do it, but mebbe I will yet.

  "A few days back I met him gettin' off a train at Roarin' City. Lord! Ihardly knowed him! He stood like an Injun, with the big muscles bulgin',an' his face was clean an' dark, his eye like fire.... He nearly shookthe daylights out of me. 'Slingerland, I want you!' he kept yellin' atme. An' I said, 'So it 'pears, but what fer?' Then he told me he wasgoin' after the gold thet Horn had buried along the old Laramie Trail.Wal, I took my outfit, an' we rode back into the hills. You rememberthem. Wal, we found the gold, easy enough, an' we packed it back toRoarin' City. Thar Neale sent me off on a train to fetch the gold toyou. An' hyar I I am an' thar's the gold."

  Allie stared at the pack, bewildered by Slingerland's story. Suddenlyshe sat up and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

  "Gold! Horn's gold! But it's not mine! Did Neale send it to me?"

  "Every ounce," replied the trapper, soberly. "I reckon it's yours.Thar was no one else left--an' you recollect what Horn said. Lass, it'syours--an' I'm goin' to make you keep it."

  "How much is there?" queried Allie, with thrills of curiosity. How wellshe remembered Horn! He had told her he had no relatives. Indeed, thegold was hers.

  "Wal, Neale an' me couldn't calkilate how much, hevin' nothin' to weighthe gold. But it's a fortune."

  Allie turned from the pack to the earnest face of the trapper. There hadbeen many critical moments in her life, but never one with the suspense,the fullness, the inevitableness of this.

  "Did Neale send anything else?" she flashed.

  "Wal, yes, an' I was comin' to thet," replied Slingerland, as he unlacedthe front of his hunting-frock. Presently he drew forth a little leathernote-book, which he handed to Allie. She took it while looking up athim. Never had she seen his face radiate such strange emotion. Shedivined it to be the supreme happiness inherent in the power to givehappiness.

  Allie trembled. She opened the little book. Surely it would contain amessage that would be as sweet as life to dying eyes. She read a name,written in ink, in a clear
script: "Beauty Stanton."

  Her pulses ceased to beat, her blood to flow, her heart to throb. Allseemed to freeze within her except her mind. And that leaped fearfullyover the first lines of a letter--then feverishly on to the close--onlyto fly back and read again. Then she dropped the book. She hid her faceon Slingerland's breast. She clutched him with frantic hands. She clungthere, her body all held rigid, as if some extraordinary strength orinspiration or joy had suddenly inhibited weakness.

  "Wal, lass, hyar you're takin' it powerful hard--an' I made sure--"

  "Hush!" whispered Allie, raising her face. She kissed him. Then shesprang up like a bent sapling released. She met Slingerland's keengaze--saw him start--then rise as if the better to meet a shock.

  "I am going back West with you," she said, coolly.

  "Wal, I knowed you'd go."

  "Divide that gold. I'll leave half for my father." Slingerland's greathands began to pull at the pack.

  "Thar's a train soon. I calkilated to stay over a day. But the soonerthe better.... Lass, will you run off or tell him?"

  "I'll tell him. He can't stop me, even if he would.... The gold willsave him from ruin....He will let me go."

  She stooped to pick up the little leather note-book and placed it inher bosom. Her heart seemed to surge against it. The great river rolledon--rolled on--magnified in her sight. A thick, rich, beautiful lightshone under the trees. What was this dance of her blood while she seemedso calm, so cool, so sure?

  "Does he have any idea--that I might return to him?" she asked.

  "None, lass, none! Thet I'll swear," declared Slingerland. "When I lefthim at Roarin' City the other day he was--wal, like he used to be. Theboy come out in him again, not jest the same, but brave. Sendin' thetgold an' thet little book made him happy.... I reckon Neale found hissoul then. An' he never expects to see you again in this hyar world."