"Then you're not calling my hand?" queried Cleve, with his dark,

piercing glance on Kells.

"I pass, Jim," replied the bandit, easily.

Cleve began to roll another cigarette. Joan saw his strong, brown

hands tremble, and she realized that this came from his nervous

condition, not from agitation. Her heart ached for him. What a

white, somber face, so terribly expressive of the overthrow of his

soul! He had fled to the border in reckless fury at her--at himself.

There in its wildness he had, perhaps, lost thought of himself and

memory of her. He had plunged into the unrestrained border life. Its

changing, raw, and fateful excitement might have made him forget,

but behind all was the terrible seeking to destroy and be destroyed.

Joan shuddered when she remembered how she had mocked this boy's

wounded vanity--how scathingly she had said he did not possess

manhood and nerve enough even to be bad.

"See here, Red," said Kells to Pearce, "tell me what happened--what

you saw. Jim can't object to that."

"Sure," replied Pearce, thus admonished. "We was all over at Beard's

an' several games was on. Gulden rode into camp last night. He's

always sore, but last night it seemed more'n usual. But he didn't

say much an' nothin' happened. We all reckoned his trip fell

through. Today he was restless. He walked an' walked just like a

cougar in a pen. You know how Gulden has to be on the move. Well, we

let him alone, you can bet. But suddenlike he comes up to our table

--me an' Cleve an' Beard an' Texas was playin' cards--an' he nearly

kicks the table over. I grabbed the gold an' Cleve he saved the

whisky. We'd been drinkin' an' Cleve most of all. Beard was white at

the gills with rage an' Texas was soffocatin'. But we all was afraid

of Gulden, except Cleve, as it turned out. But he didn't move or

look mean. An' Gulden pounded on the table an' addressed himself to

Cleve.

"'I've a job you'll like. Come on.' "'Job? Say, man, you couldn't have a job I'd like,' replied Cleve,

slow an' cool.

"You know how Gulden gets when them spells come over him. It's just

plain cussedness. I've seen gunfighters lookin' for trouble--for

someone to kill. But Gulden was worse than that. You all take my

hunch--he's got a screw loose in his nut.

"'Cleve,' he said, 'I located the Brander gold-diggin's--an' the

girl was there.' "Some kind of a white flash went over Cleve. An' we all, rememberin'

Luce, began to bend low, ready to duck. Gulden didn't look no

different from usual. You can't see any change in him. But I for one

felt all hell burnin' in him.




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