The Border Legion

"My Gawd, Jack!" gasped Handy Oliver. "You swore no one would pull a

gun--an' here you've killed him yourself! ... YOU'VE DOUBLE-CROSSED

YOURSELF! An' if I die for it I've got to tell you Red wasn't lyin'

then!"

Kells's radiance fled, leaving him ghastly. He stared at Oliver.

"You've double-crossed yourself an' your pards," went on Oliver,

pathetically. "What's your word amount to? Do you expect the gang to

stand for this? ... There lays Red Pearce dead. An' for what? Jest

once--relyin' on your oath--he speaks out what might have showed

you. An' you kill him! ... If I knowed what he knowed I'd tell you

now with thet gun in your hand! But I don't know. Only I know he

wasn't lyin'. ... Ask the girl! ... An' as for me, I reckon I'm

through with you an' your Legion. You're done, Kells--your head's

gone--you've broke over thet slip of a woman!"

Oliver spoke with a rude and impressive dignity. When he ended he

strode out into the sunlight.

Kells was shaken by this forceful speech, yet he was not in any

sense a broken man. "Joan--you heard Pearce," said he, passionately.

"He lied about you. I had to kill him. He hinted--Oh, the low-lived

dog! He could not know a good woman. He lied--and there he is--dead!

I wouldn't fetch him back for a hundred Legions!"

"But it--it wasn't--all--a lie," said Joan, and her words came

haltingly because a force stronger than her cunning made her speak.

She had reached a point where she could not deceive Kells to save

her life.

"WHAT!" he thundered.

"Pearce told the truth--except that no one ever climbed in my

window. That's false. No one could climb in. It's too small. ... But

I did whisper--to someone."

Kells had to moisten his lips to speak. "Who?"

"I'll never tell you."

"Who? ... I'll kill him!"

"No--no. I won't tell. I won't let you kill another man on my

account."

"I'll choke it out of you."

"You can't. There's no use to threaten me, or hurt me, either."

Kells seemed dazed. "Whisper! For hours! In the dark! ... But, Joan,

what for? Why such a risk?"

Joan shook her head.

"Were you just unhappy--lonesome? Did some young miner happen to see

you there in daylight--then come at night? Wasn't it only accident?

Tell me."

"I won't--and I won't because I don't want you to spill more blood."

"For my sake," he queried, with the old, mocking tone. Then he grew

dark with blood in his face, fierce with action of hands and body as

he bent nearer her. "Maybe you like him too well to see him shot? ...

Did you--whisper often to this stranger?"