The Border Legion

"Was it fair of you?" asked Joan.

"Yes. Flash is a crooked gambler. I'd rather be a bandit. ...

Besides, all's fair in love! And I was thinking of you when I saved

Kells!"

"Flash will be looking for you," said Joan, fearfully.

"Likely. And if he finds me he wants to be quick. But Kells will

drive him out of camp or kill him. I tell you, Kells is the biggest

man in Alder Creek. There's talk of office--a mayor and all that--

and if the miners can forget gold long enough they'll elect Kells.

But the riffraff, these bloodsuckers who live off the miners, they'd

rather not have any office in Alder Creek."

And upon another night Cleve in serious and somber mood talked about

the Border Legion and its mysterious workings. The name had found

prominence, no one knew how, and Alder Creek knew no more peaceful

sleep. This Legion was supposed to consist of a strange, secret band

of unknown bandits and road-agents, drawing its members from all

that wild and trackless region called the border. Rumor gave it a

leader of cunning and ruthless nature. It operated all over the

country at the same time, and must have been composed of numerous

smaller bands, impossible to detect. Because its victims never lived

to tell how or by whom they had been robbed! This Legion worked

slowly and in the dark. It did not bother to rob for little gain. It

had strange and unerring information of large quantities of gold-

dust. Two prospectors going out on the Bannack road, packing fifty

pounds of gold, were found shot to pieces. A miner named Black, who

would not trust his gold to the stage-express, and who left Adler

Creek against advice, was never seen or heard of again. Four other

miners of the camp, known to carry considerable gold, were robbed

and killed at night on their way to their cabins. And another was

found dead in his bed. Robbers had crept to his tent, slashed the

canvas, murdered him while he slept, and made off with his belt of

gold.

An evil day of blood had fallen upon Alder Creek. There were

terrible and implacable men in the midst of the miners, by day at

honest toil, learning who had gold, and murdering by night. The camp

had never been united, but this dread fact disrupted any possible

unity. Every man, or every little group of men, distrusted the

other, watched and spied and lay awake at night. But the robberies

continued, one every few days, and each one left no trace. For dead

men could not talk.