The Border Legion

"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.