The Border Legion

"Good morning," she said, brightly.

Kells had his back turned at the moment. He did not move or speak or

give any sign he had heard. The man Bill stared boldly at her, but

without a word. Roberts returned her greeting, and as she glanced

quickly at him, drawn by his voice, he turned away. But she had seen

that his face was dark, haggard, worn.

Joan's cheer and hope sustained a sudden and violent check. There

was something wrong in this group, and she could not guess what it

was. She seemed to have a queer, dragging weight at her limbs. She

was glad to move over to a stone and sink down upon it. Roberts

brought her breakfast, but he did not speak or look at her. His

hands shook. And this frightened Joan. What was going to happen?

Roberts went back to the camp-fire. Joan had to force herself to

eat. There was one thing of which she was sure--that she would need

all the strength and fortitude she could summon.

Joan became aware, presently, that Kells was conversing with

Roberts, but too low for her to hear what was said. She saw Roberts

make a gesture of fierce protest. About the other man there was an

air cool, persuading, dominant. He ceased speaking, as if the

incident were closed. Roberts hurried and blundered through his task

with his pack and went for his horse. The animal limped slightly,

but evidently was not in bad shape. Roberts saddled him, tied on the

pack. Then he saddled Joan's horse. That done, he squared around

with the front of a man who had to face something he dreaded.

"Come on, Joan. We're ready," he called. His voice was loud, but not

natural.

Joan started to cross to him when Kells strode between them. She

might not have been there, for all the sign this ominous man gave of

her presence. He confronted Roberts in the middle of the camp-

circle, and halted, perhaps a rod distant.

"Roberts, get on your horse and clear out," he said.

Roberts dropped his halter and straightened up. It was a bolder

action than any he had heretofore given. Perhaps the mask was off

now; he was wholly sure of what he had only feared; subterfuge and

blindness were in vain; and now he could be a man. Some change

worked in his face--a blanching, a setting.

"No, I won't go without the girl," he said.

"But you can't take her!"

Joan vibrated to a sudden start. So this was what was going to

happen. Her heart almost stood still. Breathless and quivering, she

watched these two men, about whom now all was strangely magnified.