"He can rot before I doctor him," replied Kells. "Where's Bate Wood? ...
Bate, you can take my kit and go fix Gulden up. And now, Red,
what was all the roar about?"
"Reckon that was Gulden's particular pards tryin' to mix it with
Cleve an' Cleve tryin' to mix it with them--an' ME in between! ...
I'm here to say, boss, that I had a time stavin' off a scrap."
During this rapid exchange between Kells and his lieutenant, Jim
Cleve sat on the edge of the table, one dusty boot swinging so that
his spur jangled, a wisp of a cigarette in his lips. His face was
white except where there seemed to be bruises under his eyes. Joan
had never seen him look like this. She guessed that he had been
drunk--perhaps was still drunk. That utterly abandoned face Joan was
so keen to read made her bite her tongue to keep from crying out.
Yes, Jim was lost.
"What'd they fight about?" queried Kells.
"Ask Cleve," replied Pearce. "Reckon I'd just as lief not talk any
more about him."
Then Kells turned to Cleve and stepped before him. Somehow these two
men face to face thrilled Joan to her depths. They presented such
contrasts. Kells was keen, imperious, vital, strong, and complex,
with an unmistakable friendly regard for this young outcast. Cleve
seemed aloof, detached, indifferent to everything, with a white,
weary, reckless scorn. Both men were far above the gaping ruffians
around them.
"Cleve, why'd you draw on Gulden?" asked Kells, sharply.
"That's my business," replied Cleve, slowly, and with his piercing
eyes on Kells he blew a long, thin, blue stream of smoke upward.
"Sure. ... But I remember what you asked me the other day--about
Gulden. Was that why?"
"Nope," replied Cleve. "This was my affair."
"All right. But I'd like to know. Pearce says you're in bad with
Gulden's friends. If I can't make peace between you I'll have to
take sides."
"Kells, I don't need any one on my side," said Cleve, and he flung
the cigarette away.
"Yes, you do," replied Kells, persuasively. "Every man on this
border needs that. And he's lucky when he gets it."
"Well, I don't ask for it; I don't want it."
"That's your own business, too. I'm not insisting or advising."
Kells's force and ability to control men manifested itself in his
speech and attitude. Nothing could have been easier than to rouse
the antagonism of Jim Cleve, abnormally responding as he was to the
wild conditions of this border environment.