The Border Legion

She huddled against Jim there in the shadow of the cabin wall, and

not for long did either speak. They watched and listened. The

streams of miners turned back toward the space around the scaffold

where the vigilantes stood grouped, and there rose a subdued roar of

excited voices. Many small groups of men conversed together, until

the vigilante leader brought all to attention by addressing the

populace in general. Joan could not hear what he said and had no

wish to hear.

"Joan, it all happened so quickly, didn't it?" whispered Jim,

shaking his head as if he was not convinced of reality.

"Wasn't he--terrible!" whispered Joan in reply.

"He! Who?"

"Kells." In her mind the bandit leader dominated all that wild

scene.

"Terrible, if you like. But I'd say great! ... The nerve of him! In

the face of a hundred vigilantes and thousands of miners! But he

knew what that shot would do!"

"Never! He never thought of that," declared Joan, earnestly. "I felt

him tremble. I had a glimpse of his face. ... Oh! ... First in his

mind was his downfall, and, second, the treachery of Frenchy. I

think that shot showed Kells as utterly desperate, but weak. He

couldn't have helped it--if that had been the last bullet in his

gun."

Jim Cleve looked strangely at Joan, as if her eloquence was both

persuasive and incomprehensible.

"Well, that was a lucky shot for us--and him, too."

"Do you think he got away?" she asked, eagerly.

"Sure. They all got away. Wasn't that about the maddest crowd you

ever saw?"

"No wonder. In a second every man there feared the man next to him

would shoot. That showed the power of Kells's Border Legion. If his

men had been faithful and obedient he never would have fallen."

"Joan! You speak as if you regret it!"

"Oh, I am ashamed," replied Joan. "I don't mean that. I don't know

what I do mean. But still I'm sorry for Kells. I suffered so much. ...

Those long, long hours of suspense. ... And his fortunes seemed

my fortunes--my very life--and yours, too, Jim."

"I think I understand, dear," said Jim, soberly.

"Jim, what'll we do now? Isn't it strange to feel free?"

"I feel as queer as you. Let me think," replied Jim.

They huddled there in comparative seclusion for a long time after

that. Joan tried to think of plans, but her mind seemed,

unproductive. She felt half dazed. Jim, too, appeared to be laboring

under the same kind of burden. Moreover, responsibility had been

added to his.