The Border Legion
Page 149"Howdy boys!" he said.
Only Kells greeted him in response. The bandit eyed him curiously.
The others added suspicion to their glances.
"Did you hear Red's yell?" queried Kells, presently.
"I'd have heard that roar if I'd been dead," replied Cleve, bluntly.
"And I didn't like it! ... I was coming up the road and I heard
Pearce yell. I'll bet every man in camp heard it."
"How'd you know Pearce yelled for you?"
"I recognized his voice."
Cleve's manner recalled to Joan her first sight of him over in Cabin
Gulch. He was not so white or haggard, but his eyes were piercing,
deliberately studied Pearce. Joan trembled, for she divined what
none of these robbers knew, and it was that Pearce was perilously
near death. It was there for Joan to read in Jim's dark glance.
"Where've you been all these nights?" queried the bandit leader.
"Is that any of your business--when you haven't had need of me?"
returned Cleve.
"Yes, it's my business. And I've sent for you. You couldn't be
found."
"I've been here for supper every night."
"I don't talk to any men in daylight. You know my hours for meeting.
"You should have told me. How was I to know?"
"I guess you're right. But where've you been?"
"Down in camp. Faro, most of the time. Bad luck, too."
Red Pearce's coarse face twisted into a scornful sneer. It must have
been a lash to Kells.
"Pearce says you're chasing a woman," retorted the bandit leader.
"Pearce lies!" flashed Cleve. His action was as swift. And there he
stood with a gun thrust hard against Pearce's side.
"JIM! Don't kill him!" yelled Kells, rising.
Pearce's red face turned white. He stood still as a stone, with his
A paralyzing surprise appeared to hold the group.
"Can you prove what you said?" asked Cleve, low and hard.
Joan knew that if Pearce did have the proof which would implicate
her he would never live to tell it.
"Cleve--I don't--know nothin'," choked out Pearce. "I jest figgered
--it was a woman!"
Cleve slowly lowered the gun and stepped back. Evidently that
satisfied him. But Joan had an intuitive feeling that Pearce lied.
"You want to be careful how you talk about me," said Cleve.