The Border Legion

Roberts brought the borrowed blanket and several saddle-blankets

over to where Joan was, and laying them down he began to kick and

scrape stones and brush aside.

"Pretty rocky place, this here is," he said. "Reckon you'll sleep

some, though."

Then he began arranging the blankets into a bed. Presently Joan felt

a tug at her riding-skirt. She looked down.

"I'll be right by you," he whispered, with his big hand to his

mouth, "an' I ain't a-goin' to sleep none."

Whereupon he returned to the camp-fire. Presently Joan, not because

she was tired or sleepy, but because she wanted to act naturally,

lay down on the bed and pulled a blanket up over her. There was no

more talking among the men. Once she heard the jingle of spurs and

the rustle of cedar brush. By and by Roberts came back to her,

dragging his saddle, and lay down near her. Joan raised up a little

to see Kells motionless and absorbed by the fire. He had a strained

and tense position. She sank back softly and looked up at the cold

bright stars. What was going to happen to her? Something terrible!

The very night shadows, the silence, the presence of strange men,

all told her. And a shudder that was a thrill ran over and over her.

She would lie awake. It would be impossible to sleep. And suddenly

into her full mind flashed an idea to slip away in the darkness,

find her horse, and so escape from any possible menace. This plan

occupied her thoughts for a long while. If she had not been used to

Western ways she would have tried just that thing. But she rejected

it. She was not sure that she could slip away, or find her horse, or

elude pursuit, and certainly not sure of her way home. It would be

best to stay with Roberts.

When that was settled her mind ceased to race. She grew languid and

sleepy. The warmth of the blankets stole over her. She had no idea

of sleeping, yet she found sleep more and more difficult to resist.

Time that must have been hours passed. The fire died down and then

brightened; the shadows darkened and then lightened. Someone now and

then got up to throw on wood. The thump of hobbled hoofs sounded out

in the darkness. The wind was still and the coyotes were gone. She

could no longer open her eyes. They seemed glued shut. And then

gradually all sense of the night and the wild, of the drowsy warmth,

faded.

When she awoke the air was nipping cold. Her eyes snapped open clear

and bright. The tips of the cedars were ruddy in the sunrise. A

camp-fire crackled. Blue smoke curled upward. Joan sat up with a

rush of memory. Roberts and Kells were bustling round the fire. The

man Bill was carrying water. The other fellow had brought in the

horses and was taking off the hobbles. No one, apparently, paid any

attention to Joan. She got up and smoothed out her tangled hair,

which she always wore in a braid down her back when she rode. She

had slept, then, and in her boots! That was the first time she had

ever done that. When she went down to the brook to bathe her face

and wash her hands, the men still, apparently, took no notice of

her. She began to hope that Roberts had exaggerated their danger.

Her horse was rather skittish and did not care for strange hands. He

broke away from the bunch. Joan went after him, even lost sight of

camp. Presently, after she caught him, she led him back to camp and

tied him up. And then she was so far emboldened as to approach the

fire and to greet the men.