Below the Last Nugget she crossed the road and started upon the
return trip. In front of this gambling-hell there were scattered
groups of men, standing, and going in. A tall man in black detached
himself and started out, as if to intercept her. He wore a long
black coat, a black bow tie, and a black sombrero. He had little,
hard, piercing eyes, as black as his dress. He wore gloves and
looked immaculate, compared with the other men. He, too, spoke to
Joan, turned to walk with her. She looked straight ahead now,
frightened, and she wanted to run. He kept beside her, apparently
talking. Joan heard only the low sound of his voice. Then he took
her arm, gently, but with familiarity. Joan broke from him and
quickened her pace.
"Say, there! Leave thet girl alone!"
This must have been yelled, for Joan certainly heard it. She
recognized Red Pearce's voice. And she wheeled to look. Pearce had
overhauled the gambler, and already men were approaching.
Involuntarily Joan halted. What would happen? The gambler spoke to
Pearce, made what appeared deprecating gestures, as if to explain.
But Pearce looked angry.
"I'll tell her daddy!" he shouted.
Joan waited for no more. She almost ran. There would surely be a
fight. Could that have been Kells's intention? Whatever it was, she
had been subjected to a mortifying and embarrassing affront. She was
angry, and she thought it might be just as well to pretend to be
furious. Kells must not use her for his nefarious schemes. She
hurried on, and, to her surprise, when she got within sight of the
cabin both Pearce and Smith had almost caught up with her. Jim Cleve
sat where she had last seen him. Also Kells was outside. The way he
strode to and fro showed Joan his anxiety. There was more to this
incident than she could fathom. She took the padding from her ears,
to her intense relief, and, soon reaching the cabin, she tore off
the veil and confronted Kells.
"Wasn't that a--a fine thing for you to do?" she demanded,
furiously. And with the outburst she felt her face blazing. "If I'd
any idea what you meant--you couldn't--have driven me! ... I trusted
you. And you sent me down there on some--shameful errand of yours.
You're no gentleman!"
Joan realized that her speech, especially the latter part, was
absurd. But it had a remarkable effect upon Kells. His face actually
turned red. He stammered something and halted, seemingly at a loss
for words. How singularly the slightest hint of any act or word of
hers that approached a possible respect or tolerance worked upon
this bandit! He started toward Joan appealingly, but she passed him
in contempt and went to her room. She heard him cursing Pearce in a
rage, evidently blaming his lieutenant for whatever had angered her.