The Border Legion

The afternoon waned till the sun tipped the high range in the west.

The excitement of the mining populace gradually wore away, and

toward sunset strings of men filed up the road and across the open.

The masked vigilantes disappeared, and presently only a quiet and

curious crowd was left round the grim scaffold and its dark swinging

forms. Joan's one glance showed that the vigilantes had swung

Frenchy's dead body in the noose he would have escaped by treachery.

They had hanged him dead. What a horrible proof of the temper of

these newborn vigilantes! They had left the bandits swinging. What

sight was so appalling as these limp, dark, swaying forms? Dead men

on the ground had a dignity--at least the dignity of death. And

death sometimes had a majesty. But here both life and death had been

robbed and there was only horror. Joan felt that all her life she

would be haunted.

"Joan, we've got to leave Alder Creek," declared Cleve, finally. He

rose to his feet. The words seemed to have given him decision. "At

first I thought every bandit in the gang would run as far as he

could from here. But--you can't tell what these wild men will do.

Gulden, for instance! Common sense ought to make them hide for a

spell. Still, no matter what's what, we must leave. ... Now, how to

go?"

"Let's walk. If we buy horses or wait for the stage we'll have to

see men here--and I'm afraid--"

"But, Joan, there'll be bandits along the road sure. And the trails,

wherever they are, would be less safe."

"Let's travel by night and rest by day."

"That won't do, with so far to go and no pack."

"Then part of the way."

"No. We'd better take the stage for Bannack. If it starts at all

it'll be under armed guard. The only thing is--will it leave soon? ...

Come, Joan, we'll go down into camp."

Dusk had fallen and lights had begun to accentuate the shadows. Joan

kept close beside Jim, down the slope, and into the road. She felt

like a guilty thing and every passing man or low-conversing group

frightened her. Still she could not help but see that no one noticed

her or Jim, and she began to gather courage. Jim also acquired

confidence. The growing darkness seemed a protection. The farther up

the street they passed, the more men they met. Again the saloons

were in full blast. Alder Creek had returned to the free, careless

tenor of its way. A few doors this side of the Last Nugget was the

office of the stage and express company. It was a wide tent with the

front canvas cut out and a shelf-counter across the opening. There

was a dim, yellow lamplight. Half a dozen men lounged in front, and

inside were several more, two of whom appeared to be armed guards.

Jim addressed no one in particular.