The Border Legion

"Is that so black a thing?" queried Kells, evidently nettled, and he

glared at her.

"I--I don't know," faltered Joan. "Is this--this boy a criminal

yet?"

"No. He's only a fine, decent young chap gone wild--gone bad for

some girl. I told you that. You don't seem to grasp the point. If I

can control him he'll be of value to me--he'll be a bold and clever

and dangerous man--he'll last out here. If I can't win him, why, he

won't last a week longer. He'll be shot or knifed in a brawl.

Without my control Cleve'll go straight to the hell he's headed

for."

Joan pushed back her plate and, looking up, steadily eyed the

bandit.

"Kells, I'd rather he ended his--his career quick--and went to--to--

than live to be a bandit and murderer at your command."

Kells laughed mockingly, yet the savage action with which he threw

his cup against the wall attested to the fact that Joan had strange

power to hurt him.

"That's your sympathy, because I told you some girl drove him out

here," said the bandit. "He's done for. You'll know that the moment

you see him. I really think he or any man out here would be the

better for my interest. Now, I want to know if you'll stand by me--

put in a word to help influence this wild boy."

"I'll--I'll have to see him first," replied Joan.

"Well, you take it sort of hard," growled Kells. Then presently he

brightened. "I seem always to forget that you're only a kid. Listen!

Now you do as you like. But I want to warn you that you've got to

get back the same kind of nerve"--here he lowered his voice and

glanced at Bate Wood--"that you showed when you shot me. You're

going to see some sights. ... A great gold strike! Men grown gold-

mad! Woman of no more account than a puff of cottonseed! ... Hunger,

toil, pain, disease, starvation, robbery, blood, murder, hanging,

death--all nothing, nothing! There will be only gold. Sleepless

nights--days of hell--rush and rush--all strangers with greedy eyes!

The things that made life will be forgotten and life itself will be

cheap. There will be only that yellow stuff--gold--over which men go

mad and women sell their souls!"

After breakfast Kells had Joan's horse brought out of the corral and

saddled.

"You must ride some every day. You must keep in condition," he said.

"Pretty soon we may have a chase, and I don't want it to tear you to

pieces."