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The Border Legion

Page 151

"In what way?" queried Cleve, blanching.

"They think you're the one who has talked. They blame you for the

suspicion that's growing."

"Well, they're absolutely wrong," declared Cleve, in a ringing

voice.

"I know they are. Mind you I'm not hinting I distrust you. I don't.

I swear by you. But Pearce--"

"So it's Pearce," interrupted Cleve, darkly. "I thought you said he

hadn't tried to put me in bad with you."

"He hasn't. He simply spoke his convictions. He has a right to them.

So have all the men. And, to come to the point, they all think

you're crooked because you're honest!"

"I don't understand," replied Cleve, slowly.

"Jim, you rode into Cabin Gulch, and you raised some trouble. But

you were no bandit. You joined my Legion, but you've never become a

bandit. Here you've been an honest miner. That suited my plan and it

helped. But it's got so it doesn't suit my men. You work every day

hard. You've struck it rich. You're well thought of in Alder Creek.

You've never done a dishonest thing. Why, you wouldn't turn a

crooked trick in a card game for a sack full of gold. This has hurt

you with my men. They can't see as I see, that you're as square as

you are game. They see you're an honest miner. They believe you've

got into a clique--that you've given us away. I don't blame Pearce

or any of my men. This is a time when men's intelligence, if they

have any, doesn't operate. Their brains are on fire. They see gold

and whisky and blood, and they feel gold and whisky and blood.

That's all. I'm glad that the gang gives you the benefit of a doubt

and a chance to stand by me."

"A chance!"

"Yes. They've worked out a job for you alone. Will you undertake

it?"

"I'll have to," replied Cleve.

"You certainly will if you want the gang to justify my faith in you.

Once you pull off a crooked deal, they'll switch and swear by you.

Then we'll get together, all of us, and plan what to do about Gulden

and his outfit. They'll run our heads, along with their own, right

into the noose."

"What is this--this job?" labored Cleve. He was sweating now and his

hair hung damp over his brow. He lost that look which had made him a

bold man and seemed a boy again, weak, driven, bewildered.

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