The Border Legion

Joan could bear to hear no more. She staggered to her bed and fell

there, all cramped as if in a cold vise. However Jim might meet the

situation planned for murdering Creede, she knew he would not shirk

facing Gulden with deadly intent. He hated Gulden because she had a

horror of him. Would these hours of suspense never end? Must she

pass from one torture to another until--?

Sleep did not come for a long time. And when it did she suffered

with nightmares from which it seemed she could never awaken.

The day, when at last it arrived, was no better than the night. It

wore on endlessly, and she who listened so intently found it one of

the silent days. Only Bate Wood remained at the cabin. He appeared

kinder than usual, but Joan did not want to talk. She ate her meals,

and passed the hours watching from the window and lying on the bed.

Dusk brought Kells and Pearce and Smith, but not Jim Cleve. Handy

Oliver and Blicky arrived at supper-time.

"Reckon Jim's appetite is pore," remarked Bate Wood, reflectively.

"He ain't been in to-day."

Some of the bandits laughed, but Kells had a twinge, if Joan ever

saw a man have one. The dark, formidable, stern look was on his

face. He alone of the men ate sparingly, and after the meal he took

to his bent posture and thoughtful pacing. Joan saw the added burden

of another crime upon his shoulders. Conversation, which had been

desultory, and such as any miners or campers might have indulged in,

gradually diminished to a word here and there, and finally ceased.

Kells always at this hour had a dampening effect upon his followers.

More and more he drew aloof from them, yet he never realized that.

He might have been alone. But often he glanced out of the door, and

appeared to listen. Of course he expected Jim Cleve to return, but

what did he expect of him? Joan had a blind faith that Jim would be

cunning enough to fool Kells and Pearce. So much depended upon it!

Some of the bandits uttered an exclamation. Then silently, like a

shadow, Jim Cleve entered.

Joan's heart leaped and seemed to stand still. Jim could not have

locked more terrible if he were really a murderer. He opened his

coat. Then he flung a black object upon the table and it fell with a

soft, heavy, sodden thud. It was a leather belt packed with gold.

When Kells saw that he looked no more at the pale Cleve. His

clawlike hand swept out for the belt, lifted and weighed it.

Likewise the other bandits, with gold in sight, surged round Kells,

forgetting Cleve.