"Now, miss, I've supper ready," he said, "an' I was reckonin' you'd

like me to fetch yours."

"Yes, thank you, I would," replied Joan.

In a few moments Wood returned carrying the top of a box upon which

were steaming pans and cups. He handed this rude tray up to Joan.

"Shore I'm a first-rate cook, miss, when I've somethin' to cook," he

said with a smile that changed his hard face.

She returned the smile with her thanks. Evidently Kells had a well-

filled larder, and as Joan had fared on coarse and hard food for

long, this supper was a luxury and exceedingly appetizing. While she

was eating, the blanket curtain moved aside and Kells appeared. He

dropped it behind him, but did not step up into the room. He was in

his shirt-sleeves, had been clean shaven, and looked a different

man.

"How do you like your--home?" he inquired, with a hint of his former

mockery.

"I'm grateful for the privacy," she replied.

"You think you could be worse off, then?"

"I know it."

"Suppose Gulden kills me--and rules the gang--and takes you? ...

There's a story about him, the worst I've heard on this border. I'll

tell you some day when I want to scare you bad."

"Gulden!" Joan shivered as she pronounced the name. "Are you and he

enemies?"

"No man can have a friend on this border. We flock together like

buzzards. There's safety in numbers, but we fight together, like

buzzards over carrion."

"Kells, you hate this life?"

"I've always hated my life, everywhere. The only life I ever loved

was adventure. ... I'm willing to try a new one, if you'll go with

me."

Joan shook her head.

"Why not? I'll marry you," he went on, speaking lower. "I've got

gold; I'll get more."

"Where did you get the gold?" she asked "I've relieved a good many overburdened travelers and prospectors,"

he replied.

"Kells, you're a--a villain!" exclaimed Joan, unable to contain her

sudden heat. "You must be utterly mad--to ask me to marry you."

"No, I'm not mad," he rejoined, with a laugh. "Gulden's the mad one.

He's crazy. He's got a twist in his brain. I'm no fool. ... I've

only lost my head over you. But compare marrying me, living and

traveling among decent people and comfort, to camps like this. If I

don't get drunk I'll be half decent to you. But I'll get shot sooner

or later. Then you'll be left to Gulden."




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