The Border Legion

Camp was made near water. The bandits were a jovial lot, despite a

lack of food. They talked of the morrow. All--the world--lay beyond

the next sunrise. Some renounced their pipes and sought their rest

just to hurry on the day. But Gulden, tireless, sleepless, eternally

vigilant, guarded the saddle of gold and brooded over it, and seemed

a somber giant carved out of the night. And Blicky, nursing some

deep and late-developed scheme, perhaps in Kells's interest or his

own, kept watch over Gulden and all.

Jim cautioned Joan to rest, and importuned her and promised to watch

while she slept.

Joan saw the stars through her shut eyelids. All the night seemed to

press down and softly darken.

The sun was shining red when the cavalcade rode up Cabin Gulch. The

grazing cattle stopped to watch and the horses pranced and whistled.

There were flowers and flitting birds, and glistening dew on leaves,

and a shining swift flow of water--the brightness of morning and

nature smiled in Cabin Gulch.

Well indeed Joan remembered the trail she had ridden so often. How

that clump of willow where first she had confronted Jim thrilled her

now! The pines seemed welcoming her. The gulch had a sense of home

in it for her, yet it was fearful. How much had happened there! What

might yet happen!

Then a clear, ringing call stirred her pulse. She glanced up the

slope. Tall and straight and dark, there on the bench, with hand

aloft, stood the bandit Kells.