The Border Legion

"Say!" called Kells, gaily, "aren't you fellows going to eat first?"

Shouts of derision greeted his sally.

"I'll eat gold-dust," added Budd.

"Have it your own way, men," responded Kells. "Blicky, get the

scales down off of that shelf. ... Say, I'll bet anybody I'll have

the most dust by sundown."

More shouts of derision were flung at him.

"Who wants to gamble now?"

"Boss, I'll take thet bet."

"Haw! Haw! You won't look so bright by sundown."

Then followed a moment's silence, presently broken by a clink of

metal on the table.

"Boss, how'd you ever git wind of this big shipment of gold?" asked

Jesse Smith.

"I've had it spotted. But Handy Oliver was the scout."

"We'll shore drink to Handy!" exclaimed one of the bandits.

"An' who was sendin' out this shipment?" queried the curious Smith.

"Them bags are marked all the same."

"It was a one-man shipment," replied Kells. "Sent out by the boss

miner of Alder Creek. They call him Overland something."

That name brought Joan to her feet with a thrilling fire. Her uncle,

old Bill Hoadley, was called "Overland." Was it possible that the

bandits meant him? It could hardly be; that name was a common one in

the mountains.

"Shore, I seen Overland lots of times," said Budd. "An' he got wise

to my watchin' him."

"Somebody tipped it off that the Legion was after his gold," went on

Kells. "I suppose we have Pearce to thank for that. But it worked

out well for us. The hell we raised there at the lynching must have

thrown a scare into Overland. He had nerve enough to try to send his

dust to Bannack on the very next stage. He nearly got away with it,

too. For it was only lucky accident that Handy heard the news."

The name Overland drew Joan like a magnet and she arose to take her

old position, where she could peep in upon the bandits. One glance

at Jim Cleve told her that he, too, had been excited by the name.

Then it occurred to Joan that her uncle could hardly have been at

Alder Creek without Jim knowing it. Still, among thousands of men,

all wild and toiling and self-sufficient, hiding their identities,

anything might be possible. After a few moments, however, Joan

leaned to the improbability of the man being her uncle.

Kells sat down before the table and Blicky stood beside him with the

gold-scales. The other bandits lined up opposite. Jim Cleve stood to

one side, watching, brooding.