The Border Legion

At noon the party halted for a rest. The camp site was pleasant and

the men were all agreeable. During the meal Kells found occasion to

remark to Cleve: "Say youngster, you've brightened up. Must be because of our

prospects over here."

"Not that so much," replied Cleve. "I quit the whisky. To be honest,

Kells, I was almost seeing snakes."

"I'm glad you quit. When you're drinking you're wild. I never yet

saw the man who could drink hard and keep his head. I can't. But I

don't drink much."

His last remark brought a response in laughter. Evidently his

companions thought he was joking. He laughed himself and actually

winked at Joan.

It happened to be Cleve whom Kells told to saddle Joan's horse, and

as Joan tried the cinches, to see if they were too tight to suit

her, Jim's hand came in contact with hers. That touch was like a

message. Joan was thrilling all over as she looked at Jim, but he

kept his face averted. Perhaps he did not trust his eyes.

Travel was resumed up the canon and continued steadily, though

leisurely. But the trail was so rough, and so winding, that Joan

believed the progress did not exceed three miles an hour. It was the

kind of travel in which a horse could be helped and that entailed

attention to the lay of the ground. Before Joan realized the hours

were flying, the afternoon had waned. Smith kept on, however, until

nearly dark before halting for camp.

The evening camp was a scene of activity, and all except Joan had

work to do. She tried to lend a hand, but Wood told her to rest.

This she was glad to do. When called to supper she had almost fallen

asleep. After a long day's ride the business of eating precluded

conversation. Later, however, the men began to talk between puffs on

their pipes, and from the talk no one could have guessed that here

was a band of robbers on their way to a gold camp. Jesse Smith had a

sore foot and he was compared to a tenderfoot on his first ride.

Smith retaliated in kind. Every consideration was shown Joan, and

Wood particularly appeared assiduous in his desire for her comfort.

All the men except Cleve paid her some kind attention; and he, of

course, neglected her because he was afraid to go near her. Again

she felt in Red Pearce a condemnation of the bandit leader who was

dragging a girl over hard trails, making her sleep in the open,

exposing her to danger and to men like himself and Gulden. In his

own estimate Pearce, like every one of his kind, was not so slow as

the others.