14
Joan's opportunity for watching Kells and his men and overhearingtheir colloquies was as good as it had been back in Cabin Gulch. But itdeveloped that where Kells had been open and frank he now became secretand cautious. She was aware that men, singly and in couples, visited himduring the early hours of the night, and they had conferences in low,earnest tones. She could peer out of her little window and see dark,silent forms come up from the ravine at the back of the cabin, and leavethe same way. None of them went round to the front door, where BateWood smoked and kept guard. Joan was able to hear only scraps of theseearnest talks; and from part of one she gathered that for some reasonor other Kells desired to bring himself into notice. Alder Creek mustbe made to know that a man of importance had arrived. It seemed toJoan that this was the very last thing which Kells ought to do.What magnificent daring the bandit had! Famous years before inCalifornia--with a price set upon his life in Nevada--and now the noted,if unknown, leader of border robbers in Idaho, he sought to make himselfprominent, respected, and powerful. Joan found that in spite of herhorror at the sinister and deadly nature of the bandit's enterprise shecould not avoid an absorbing interest in his fortunes.
Next day Joan watched for an opportunity to tell Jim Cleve that he mightcome to her little window any time after dark to talk and plan with her.No chance presented itself. Joan wore the dress she had made, to theevident pleasure of Bate Wood and Pearce. They had conceived as strongan interest in her fortunes as she had in Kells's. Wood nodded hisapproval and Pearce said she was a lady once more. Strange it was toJoan that this villain Pearce, whom she could not have dared trust, grewopen in his insinuating hints of Kells's blackguardism. Strange becausePearce was absolutely sincere!
When Jim Cleve did see Joan in her dress the first time he appeared soglad and relieved and grateful that she feared he might betray himself,so she got out of his sight.
Not long after that Kells called her from her room. He wore his somberand thoughtful cast of countenance. Red Pearce and Jesse Smith werestanding at attention. Cleve was sitting on the threshold of the doorand Wood leaned against the wall.
"Is there anything in the pack of stuff I bought you that you could usefor a veil?" asked Kells of Joan.
"Yes," she replied.
"Get it," he ordered. "And your hat, too."
Joan went to her room and returned with the designated articles, the hatbeing that which she had worn when she left Hoadley.
"That'll do. Put it on--over your face--and let's see how you look."
Joan complied with this request, all the time wondering what Kellsmeant.
"I want it to disguise you, but not to hide your youth--your goodlooks," he said, and he arranged it differently about her face."There!... You'd sure make any man curious to see you now.... Put on thehat."
Joan did so. Then Kells appeared to become more forcible.
"You're to go down into the town. Walk slow as far as the Last Nugget.Cross the road and come back. Look at every man you meet or see standingby. Don't be in the least frightened. Pearce and Smith will be rightbehind you. They'd get to you before anything could happen.... Do youunderstand?"
"Yes," replied Joan.
Red Pearce stirred uneasily. "Jack, I'm thinkin' some rough talk'll comeher way," he said, darkly.
"Will you shut up!" replied Kells in quick passion. He resented someimplication. "I've thought of that. She won't hear what's said toher.... Here," and he turned again to Joan, "take some cotton--oranything--and stuff up your ears. Make a good job of it."
Joan went back to her room and, looking about for something with whichto execute Kells's last order, she stripped some soft, woolly bits froma fleece-lined piece of cloth. With these she essayed to deaden herhearing. Then she returned. Kells spoke to her, but, though she seemeddully to hear his voice, she could not distinguish what he said. Sheshook her head. With that Kells waved her out upon her strange errand.
Joan brushed against Cleve as she crossed the threshold. What would hethink of this? She would not see his face. When she reached the firsttents she could not resist the desire to look back. Pearce was withintwenty yards of her and Smith about the same distance farther back. Joanwas more curious than anything else. She divined that Kells wanted herto attract attention, but for what reason she was at a loss to say. Itwas significant that he did not intend to let her suffer any indignitywhile fulfilling this mysterious mission.
Not until Joan got well down the road toward the Last Nugget did any onepay any attention to her. A Mexican jabbered at her, showing his whiteteeth, flashing his sloe-black eyes. Young miners eyed her curiously,and some of them spoke. She met all kinds of men along the plank walk,most of whom passed by, apparently unobserving. She obeyed Kells to theletter. But for some reason she was unable to explain, when she got tothe row of saloons, where lounging, evil-eyed rowdies accosted her, shefound she had to disobey him, at least in one particular. She walkedfaster. Still that did not make her task much easier. It began to be anordeal. The farther she got the bolder men grew. Could it have been thatKells wanted this sort of thing to happen to her? Joan had no idea whatthese men meant, but she believed that was because for the time beingshe was deaf. Assuredly their looks were not a compliment to any girl.Joan wanted to hurry now, and she had to force herself to walk at areasonable gait. One persistent fellow walked beside her for severalsteps. Joan was not fool enough not to realize now that these wayfarerswanted to make her acquaintance. And she decided she would havesomething to say to Kells when she got back.
Below the Last Nugget she crossed the road and started upon the returntrip. In front of this gambling-hell there were scattered groups of men,standing, and going in. A tall man in black detached himself and startedout, as if to intercept her. He wore a long black coat, a black bow tie,and a black sombrero. He had little, hard, piercing eyes, as black ashis dress. He wore gloves and looked immaculate, compared with theother men. He, too, spoke to Joan, turned to walk with her. She lookedstraight ahead now, frightened, and she wanted to run. He kept besideher, apparently talking. Joan heard only the low sound of his voice.Then he took her arm, gently, but with familiarity. Joan broke from himand quickened her pace.
"Say, there! Leave thet girl alone!"
This must have been yelled, for Joan certainly heard it. She recognizedRed Pearce's voice. And she wheeled to look. Pearce had overhauled thegambler, and already men were approaching. Involuntarily Joan halted.What would happen? The gambler spoke to Pearce, made what appeareddeprecating gestures, as if to explain. But Pearce looked angry.
"I'll tell her daddy!" he shouted.
Joan waited for no more. She almost ran. There would surely be a fight.Could that have been Kells's intention? Whatever it was, she had beensubjected to a mortifying and embarrassing affront. She was angry, andshe thought it might be just as well to pretend to be furious. Kellsmust not use her for his nefarious schemes. She hurried on, and, to hersurprise, when she got within sight of the cabin both Pearce and Smithhad almost caught up with her. Jim Cleve sat where she had last seenhim. Also Kells was outside. The way he strode to and fro showed Joanhis anxiety. There was more to this incident than she could fathom.She took the padding from her ears, to her intense relief, and, soonreaching the cabin, she tore off the veil and confronted Kells.
"Wasn't that a--a fine thing for you to do?" she demanded, furiously.And with the outburst she felt her face blazing. "If I'd any idea whatyou meant--you couldn't--have driven me!... I trusted you. And you sentme down there on some--shameful errand of yours. You're no gentleman!"
Joan realized that her speech, especially the latter part, was absurd.But it had a remarkable effect upon Kells. His face actually turned red.He stammered something and halted, seemingly at a loss for words. Howsingularly the slightest hint of any act or word of hers that approacheda possible respect or tolerance worked upon this bandit! He startedtoward Joan appealingly, but she passed him in contempt and went toher room. She heard him cursing Pearce in a rage, evidently
blaming hislieutenant for whatever had angered her.
"But you wanted her insulted!" protested Pearce, hotly.
"You mullet-head!" roared Kells. "I wanted some man--any man--to getjust near enough to her so I could swear she'd been insulted. You lether go through that camp to meet real insult!... Why--! Pearce, I've amind to shoot you!"
"Shoot!" retorted Pearce. "I obeyed orders as I saw them.... An' I wantto say right here thet when it comes to anythin' concernin' this girlyou're plumb off your nut. That's what. An' you can like it or lump it!I said before you'd split over this girl. An' I say it now!"
Through the door Joan had a glimpse of Cleve stepping between the angrymen. This seemed unnecessary, however, for Pearce's stinging assertionhad brought Kells to himself. There were a few more words, too low forJoan's ears, and then, accompanied by Smith, the three started off,evidently for the camp. Joan left her room and watched them from thecabin door. Bate Wood sat outside smoking.
"I'm declarin' my hand," he said to Joan, feelingly. "I'd never hevstood for thet scurvy trick. Now, miss, this's the toughest camp I everseen. I mean tough as to wimmen! For it ain't begun to fan guns an'steal gold yet."
"Why did Kells want me insulted?" asked Joan.
"Wal, he's got to hev a reason for raisin' an orful fuss," replied Wood.
"Fuss?"
"Shore," replied Wood, dryly.
"What for?"
"Jest so he can walk out on the stage," rejoined Wood, evasively.
"It's mighty strange," said Joan.
"I reckon all about Mr. Kells is some strange these days. Red Pearce hadit correct. Kells is a-goin' to split on you!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Wal, he'll go one way an' the gang another."
"Why?" asked Joan, earnestly.
"Miss, there's some lot of reasons," said Wood, deliberately. "Fust, hedid for Halloway an' Bailey, not because they wanted to treat you as hemeant to, but just because he wanted to be alone. We're all wise thetyou shot him--an' thet you wasn't his wife. An' since then we've seenhim gradually lose his nerve. He organized his Legion an' makes his planto run this Alder Creek red. He still hangs on to you. He'd kill anyman thet batted an eye at you.... An' through all this, because he'snot Jack Kells of old, he's lost his pull with the gang. Sooner or laterhe'll split."
"Have I any real friends among you?" asked Joan.
"Wal, I reckon."
"Are you my friend, Bate Wood?" she went on in sweet wistfulness.
The grizzled old bandit removed his pipe and looked at her with a glintin his bloodshot eyes,
"I shore am. I'll sneak you off now if you'll go. I'll stick a knife inKells if you say so."
"Oh, no, I'm afraid to run off--and you needn't harm Kells. After all,he's good to me."
"Good to you!... When he keeps you captive like an Indian would? Whenhe's given me orders to watch you--keep you locked up?"
Wood's snort of disgust and wrath was thoroughly genuine. Still Joanknew that she dared not trust him, any more than Pearce or the others.Their raw emotions would undergo a change if Kells's possession of herwere transferred to them. It occurred to Joan, however, that she mightuse Wood's friendliness to some advantage.
"So I'm to be locked up?" she asked.
"You're supposed to be."
"Without any one to talk to?"
"Wal, you'll hev me, when you want. I reckon thet ain't much to lookforward to. But I can tell you a heap of stories. An' when Kells ain'taround, if you're careful not to get me ketched, you can do as youwant."
"Thank you, Bate. I'm going to like you," replied Joan, sincerely, andthen she went back to her room. There was sewing to do, and while sheworked she thought, so that the hours sped. When the light got so poorthat she could sew no longer she put the work aside and stood at herlittle window, watching the sunset. From the front of the cabin came thesound of subdued voices. Probably Kells and his men had returned, andshe was sure of this when she heard the ring of Bate Wood's ax.
All at once an object darker than the stones arrested Joan's gaze. Therewas a man sitting on the far side of the little ravine. Instantly sherecognized Jim Cleve. He was looking at the little window--at her. Joanbelieved he was there for just that purpose. Making sure that no oneelse was near to see, she put out her hand and waved it. Jim gave aguarded perceptible sign that he had observed her action, and almostdirectly got up and left. Joan needed no more than that to tell her howJim's idea of communicating with her corresponded with her own. Thatnight she would talk with him and she was thrilled through. The secrecy,the peril, somehow lent this prospect a sweetness, a zest, a deliciousfear. Indeed, she was not only responding to love, but to daring, todefiance, to a wilder nameless element born of her environment and theneeds of the hour.
Presently, Bate Wood called her in to supper. Pearce, Smith, and Clevewere finding seats at the table, but Kells looked rather sick. Joanobserved him then more closely. His face was pale and damp, strangelyshaded as if there were something dark under the pale skin. Joan hadnever seen him appear like this, and she shrank as from another andforbidding side of the man. Pearce and Smith acted naturally, ate withrelish, and talked about the gold-diggings. Cleve, however, was notas usual; and Joan could not quite make out what constituted thedissimilarity. She hurried through her own supper and back to her room.
Already it was dark outside. Joan lay down to listen and wait. It seemedlong, but probably was not long before she heard the men go outside, andthe low thump of their footsteps as they went away. Then came the rattleand bang of Bate Wood's attack on the pans and pots. Bate liked to cook,but he hated to clean up afterward. By and by he settled down outsidefor his evening smoke and there was absolute quiet. Then Joan rose tostand at the window. She could see the dark mass of rock overhanging thecabin, the bluff beyond, and the stars. For the rest all was gloom.
She did not have to wait long. A soft step, almost indistinguishable,made her pulse beat quicker. She put her face out of the window, and onthe instant a dark form seemed to loom up to meet her out of the shadow.She could not recognize that shape, yet she knew it belonged to Cleve.
"Joan," he whispered.
"Jim," she replied, just as low and gladly.
He moved closer, so that the hand she had gropingly put out touched him,then seemed naturally to slip along his shoulder, round his neck. Andhis face grew clearer in the shadow. His lips met hers, and Joan closedher eyes to that kiss. What hope, what strength for him and for her nowin that meeting of lips!
"Oh, Jim! I'm so glad--to have you near--to touch you," she whispered.
"Do you love me still?" he whispered back, tensely.
"Still? More--more!"
"Say it, then."
"Jim, I love you!"
And their lips met again and clung, and it was he who drew back first.
"Dearest, why didn't you let me make a break to get away withyou--before we came to this camp?"
"Oh, Jim, I told you. I was afraid. We'd have been caught. And Gulden--"
"We'll never have half the chance here. Kells means to keep you closelyguarded. I heard the order. He's different now. He's grown crafty andhard. And the miners of this Alder Creek! Why, I'm more afraid to trustthem than men like Wood or Pearce. They've gone clean crazy. Gold-mad!If you shouted for your life they wouldn't hear you. And if you couldmake them hear they wouldn't believe. This camp has sprung up in anight. It's not like any place I ever heard of. It's not human. It's sostrange--so--Oh, I don't know what to say. I think I mean that men in agreat gold strike become like coyotes at a carcass. You've seen that. Norelation at all!"
"I'm frightened, too, Jim. I wish I'd had the courage to run when wewere back in Cabin Gulch, But don't ever give up, not for a second! Wecan get away. We must plan and wait. Find out where we are--how far fromHoadley--what we must expect--whether it's safe to approach any one inthis camp."
"Safe! I guess not, after to-day," he whispered, grimly.
"Why? What's happened?" she asked quickl
y.
"Joan, have you guessed yet why Kells sent you down into camp alone?"
"No."
"Listen.... I went with Kells and Smith and Pearce. They hurriedstraight to the Last Nugget. There was a crowd of men in front of theplace. Pearce walked straight up to one--a gambler by his clothes.And he said in a loud voice. 'Here's the man!'... The gambler lookedstartled, turned pale, and went for his gun. But Kells shot him!... Hefell dead, without a word. There was a big shout, then silence. Kellsstood there with his smoking gun. I never saw the man so cool--somasterful. Then he addressed the crowd: 'This gambler insulted mydaughter! My men here saw him. My name's Blight. I came here to buy upgold claims. And I want to say this: Your Alder Creek has got the gold.But it needs some of your best citizens to run it right, so a girl canbe safe on the street.'"
"Joan, I tell you it was a magnificent bluff," went on Jim, excitedly."And it worked. Kells walked away amid cheers. He meant to give animpression of character and importance. He succeeded. So far as I couldtell, there wasn't a man present who did not show admiration for him. Isaw that dead gambler kicked."
"Jim!" breathed Joan. "He killed him--just for that?"
"Just for that--the bloody devil!"
"But still--what for? Oh, it was cold-blooded murder."
"No, an even break. Kells made the gambler go for his gun. I'll have tosay that for Kells."
"It doesn't change the thing. I'd forgotten what a monster he is."
"Joan, his motive is plain. This new gold-camp has not reached theblood-spilling stage yet. It hadn't, I should say. The news of thiskilling will fly. It'll focus minds on this claim-buyer, Blight. Hisdeed rings true--like that of an honest man with a daughter to protect.He'll win sympathy. Then he talks as if he were prosperous. Soonhe'll be represented in this changing, growing population as a man ofimportance. He'll play the card for all he's worth. Meanwhile, secretlyhe'll begin to rob the miners. It'll be hard to suspect him. His plot isjust like the man--great!"
"Jim, oughtn't we tell?" whispered Joan, trembling.
"I've thought of that. Somehow I seem to feel guilty. But whom onearth could we tell? We wouldn't dare speak here.... Remember--you're aprisoner. I'm supposed to be a bandit--one of the Border Legion. How toget away from here and save our lives--that's what tortures me."
"Something tells me we'll escape, if only we can plan the right way.Jim, I'll have to be penned here, with nothing to do but wait. You mustcome every night!... Won't you?"
For an answer he kissed her again.
"Jim, what'll you do meanwhile?" she asked, anxiously.
"I'm going to work a claim. Dig for gold. I told Kells so to-day, and hewas delighted. He said he was afraid his men wouldn't like the workingpart of his plan. It's hard to dig gold. Easy to steal it. But I'll diga hole as big as a hill!... Wouldn't it be funny if I struck it rich?"
"Jim, you're getting the fever."
"Joan, if I did happen to run into a gold-pocket--there're lots of themfound--would--you--marry me?"
The tenderness, the timidity, and the yearning in Cleve's voice toldJoan as never before how he had hoped and feared and despaired. Shepatted his cheek with her hand, and in the darkness, with her heartswelling to make up for what she had done to him, she felt a boldnessand a recklessness, sweet, tumultuous, irresistible.
"Jim, I'll marry you--whether you strike gold or not," she whispered.
And there was another blind, sweet moment. Then Cleve tore himself away,and Joan leaned at the window, watching the shadow, with tears in hereyes and an ache in her breast.
From that day Joan lived a life of seclusion in the small room. Kellswanted it so, and Joan thought best for the time being not to takeadvantage of Bate Wood's duplicity. Her meals were brought to her byWood, who was supposed to unlock and lock her door. But Wood neverturned the key in that padlock.
Prisoner though Joan was, the days and nights sped swiftly.
Kells was always up till late in the night and slept half of the nextmorning. It was his wont to see Joan every day about noon. He had a carefor his appearance. When he came in he was dark, forbidding, weary, andcold. Manifestly he came to her to get rid of the imponderable burdenof the present. He left it behind him. He never spoke a word of AlderCreek, of gold, of the Border Legion. Always he began by inquiring forher welfare, by asking what he could do for her, what he could bringher. Joan had an abhorrence of Keils in his absence that she never feltwhen he was with her; and the reason must have been that she thought ofhim, remembered him as the bandit, and saw him as another and growingcharacter. Always mindful of her influence, she was as companionable,as sympathetic, as cheerful, and sweet as it was possible for her to be.Slowly he would warm and change under her charm, and the grim gloom, thedark strain, would pass from him. When that left he was indeed anotherperson. Frankly he told Joan that the glimpse of real love she hadsimulated back there in Cabin Gulch was seldom out of his mind. No womanhad ever kissed him like she had. That kiss had transfigured him. Ithaunted him. If he could not win kisses like that from Joan's lips, ofher own free will, then he wanted none. No other woman's lips would evertouch his. And he begged Joan in the terrible earnestness of a stern andhungering outcast for her love. And Joan could only sadly shake her headand tell him she was sorry for him, that the more she really believedhe loved her the surer she was that he would give her up. Then alwayshe passionately refused. He must have her to keep, to look at as histreasure, to dream over, and hope against hope that she would love himsome day. Women sometimes learned to love their captors, he said; and ifshe only learned, then he would take her away to Australia, to distantlands. But most of all he begged her to show him again what it meant tobe loved by a good woman. And Joan, who knew that her power now lay inher unattainableness, feigned a wavering reluctance, when in truth anysurrender was impossible. He left her with a spirit that her presencegave him, in a kind of trance, radiant, yet with mocking smile, as if heforesaw the overthrow of his soul through her, and in the light of thathis waning power over his Legion was as nothing.
In the afternoon he went down into camp to strengthen the associationshe had made, to buy claims, and to gamble. Upon his return Joan, peepingthrough a crack between the boards, could always tell whether he hadbeen gambling, whether he had won or lost.
Most of the evenings he remained in his cabin, which after dark becamea place of mysterious and stealthy action. The members of his Legionvisited him, sometimes alone, never more than two together. Joan couldhear them slipping in at the hidden aperture in the back of the cabin;she could hear the low voices, but seldom what was said; she could hearthese night prowlers as they departed. Afterward Kells would have thelights lit, and then Joan could see into the cabin. Was that dark,haggard man Kells? She saw him take little buckskin sacks full ofgold-dust and hide them under the floor. Then he would pace the roomin his old familiar manner, like a caged tiger. Later his mood usuallychanged with the advent of Wood and Pearce and Smith and Cleve, who tookturns at guard and going down into camp. Then Kells would join them ina friendly game for small stakes. Gambler though he was, he refused toallow any game there that might lead to heavy wagering. From the talksometimes Joan learned that he played for exceedingly large stakes withgamblers and prosperous miners, usually with the same result--a loss.Sometimes he won, however, and then he would crow over Pearce and Smith,and delight in telling them how cunningly he had played.
Jim Cleve had his bed up under the bulge of bluff, in a sheltered nook.Kells had appeared to like this idea, for some reason relative to hisscout system, which he did not explain. And Cleve was happy about itbecause this arrangement left him absolutely free to have his nightlyrendezvous with Joan at her window, sometime between dark and midnight.Her bed was right under the window: if awake she could rest on her kneesand look out; and if she was asleep he could thrust a slender stickbetween the boards to awaken her. But the fact was that Joan lived forthese stolen meetings, and unless he could not come until very late shewaited wide-eyed and listening for
him. Then, besides, as long as Kellswas stirring in the cabin she spent her time spying upon him.
Jim Cleve had gone to an unfrequented part of the gulch, for noparticular reason, and here he had located his claim. The very firstday he struck gold. And Kells, more for advertisement than for anyother motive, had his men stake out a number of claims near Cleve's, andbought them. Then they had a little field of their own. All found therich pay-dirt, but it was Cleve to whom the goddess of fortune turnedher bright face. As he had been lucky at cards, so he was lucky atdigging. His claim paid big returns. Kells spread the news, and thatpart of the gulch saw a rush of miners.
Every night Joan had her whispered hour with Cleve, and each succeedingone was the sweeter. Jim had become a victim of the gold fever. But,having Joan to steady him, he did not lose his head. If he gambledit was to help out with his part. He was generous to his comrades. Hepretended to drink, but did not drink at all. Jim seemed to regard hisgood fortune as Joan's also. He believed if he struck it rich he couldbuy his sweetheart's freedom. He claimed that Kells was drunk for goldto gamble away. Joan let Jim talk, but she coaxed him and persuaded himto follow a certain line of behavior, she planned for him, she thoughtfor him, she influenced him to hide the greater part of his gold-dust,and let it be known that he wore no gold-belt. She had a growing fearthat Jim's success was likely to develop a temper in him inimical tothe cool, waiting, tolerant policy needed to outwit Kells in the end.It seemed the more gold Jim acquired the more passionate he became, themore he importuned Joan, the more he hated Kells. Gold had gotten intohis blood, and it was Joan's task to keep him sane. Naturally she gainedmore by yielding herself to Jim's caresses than by any direct advice oradmonishment. It was her love that held Jim in check.
One night, the instant their hands met Joan knew that Jim was greatlyexcited or perturbed.
"Joan," he whispered, thrillingly, with his lips at her ear, "I've mademyself solid with Kells! Oh, the luck of it!"
"Tell me!" whispered Joan, and she leaned against those lips.
"It was early to-night at the Nugget. I dropped in as usual. Kells wasplaying faro again with that gambler they call Flash. He's won a lot ofKells's gold--a crooked gambler. I looked on. And some of the gangwere there--Pearce, Blicky, Handy Oliver, and of course Gulden, but allseparated. Kells was losing and sore. But he was game. All at once hecaught Flash in a crooked trick, and he yelled in a rage. He sure hadthe gang and everybody else looking. I expected--and so did all thegang--to see Kells pull his gun. But strange how gambling affects him!He only cursed Flash--called him right. You know that's about as bad asdeath to a professional gambler in a place like Alder Creek. Flash threwa derringer on Kells. He had it up his sleeve. He meant to kill Kells,and Kells had no chance. But Flash, having the drop, took time to talk,to make his bluff go strong with the crowd. And that's where he madea mistake. I jumped and knocked the gun out of his hand. It wentoff--burned my wrist. Then I slugged Mr. Flash good--he didn't getup.... Kells called the crowd around and, showing the cards as they lay,coolly proved that Flash was what everybody suspected. Then Kells saidto me--I'll never forget how he looked: 'Youngster, he meant to do forme. I never thought of my gun. You see!... I'll kill him the next timewe meet.... I've owed my life to men more than once. I never forget. Youstood pat with me before. And now you're ace high!'"
"Was it fair of you?" asked Joan.
"Yes. Flash is a crooked gambler. I'd rather be a bandit.... Besides,all's fair in love! And I was thinking of you when I saved Kells!"
"Flash will be looking for you," said Joan, fearfully.
"Likely. And if he finds me he wants to be quick. But Kells will drivehim out of camp or kill him. I tell you, Kells is the biggest man inAlder Creek. There's talk of office--a mayor and all that--and ifthe miners can forget gold long enough they'll elect Kells. But theriffraff, these bloodsuckers who live off the miners, they'd rather nothave any office in Alder Creek."
And upon another night Cleve in serious and somber mood talked aboutthe Border Legion and its mysterious workings. The name had foundprominence, no one knew how, and Alder Creek knew no more peacefulsleep. This Legion was supposed to consist of a strange, secret band ofunknown bandits and road-agents, drawing its members from all thatwild and trackless region called the border. Rumor gave it a leader ofcunning and ruthless nature. It operated all over the country at thesame time, and must have been composed of numerous smaller bands,impossible to detect. Because its victims never lived to tell how or bywhom they had been robbed! This Legion worked slowly and in the dark.It did not bother to rob for little gain. It had strange and unerringinformation of large quantities of gold-dust. Two prospectors going outon the Bannack road, packing fifty pounds of gold, were found shotto pieces. A miner named Black, who would not trust his gold to thestage-express, and who left Adler Creek against advice, was neverseen or heard of again. Four other miners of the camp, known to carryconsiderable gold, were robbed and killed at night on their way to theircabins. And another was found dead in his bed. Robbers had crept to histent, slashed the canvas, murdered him while he slept, and made off withhis belt of gold.
An evil day of blood had fallen upon Alder Creek. There were terribleand implacable men in the midst of the miners, by day at honest toil,learning who had gold, and murdering by night. The camp had never beenunited, but this dread fact disrupted any possible unity. Every man, orevery little group of men, distrusted the other, watched and spied andlay awake at night. But the robberies continued, one every few days, andeach one left no trace. For dead men could not talk.
Thus was ushered in at Alder Creek a regime of wildness that hadno parallel in the earlier days of '49 and '51. Men frenzied by thepossession of gold or greed for it responded to the wildness of thattime and took their cue from this deadly and mysterious Border Legion.The gold-lust created its own blood-lust. Daily the population of AlderCreek grew in the new gold-seekers and its dark records kept pace. Withdistrust came suspicion and with suspicion came fear, and with fear camehate--and these, in already distorted minds, inflamed a hell. So thatthe most primitive passions of mankind found outlet and held sway. Theoperations of the Border Legion were lost in deeds done in the gamblingdens, in the saloons, and on the street, in broad day. Men fought forno other reason than that the incentive was in the charged air. Menwere shot at gaming-tables--and the game went on. Men were killed in thedance-halls, dragged out, marking a line of blood on the rude floor--andthe dance went on. Still the pursuit of gold went on, more frenzied thanever, and still the greater and richer claims were struck. The price ofgold soared and the commodities of life were almost beyond the dreamsof avarice. It was a tune in which the worst of men's natures stalkedforth, hydra-headed and deaf, roaring for gold, spitting fire, andshedding blood. It was a time when gold and fire and blood were one. Itwas a tune when a horde of men from every class and nation, of all agesand characters, met on a field were motives and ambitions and faiths andtraits merged into one mad instinct of gain. It was worse than thetime of the medieval crimes of religion; it made war seem a brave andhonorable thing; it robbed manhood of that splendid and noble trait,always seen in shipwrecked men or those hopelessly lost in the barrennorth, the divine will not to retrograde to the savage. It was a time,for all it enriched the world with yellow treasure, when might wasright, when men were hopeless, when death stalked rampant. The sun rosegold and it set red. It was the hour of Gold!
One afternoon late, while Joan was half dreaming, half dozing the hoursaway, she was thoroughly aroused by the tramp of boots and loud voicesof excited men. Joan slipped to the peephole in the partition. Bate Woodhad raised a warning hand to Kells, who stood up, facing the door. RedPearce came bursting in, wild-eyed and violent. Joan imagined he wasabout to cry out that Kells had been betrayed.
"Kells, have you--heard?" he panted.
"Not so loud, you--!" replied Kells, coolly. "My name's Blight.... Who'swith you?"
"Only Jesse an' some of the gang. I couldn't steer them away. Butthere's nothi
n' to fear."
"What's happened? What haven't I heard?"
"The camp's gone plumb ravin' crazy.... Jim Cleve found the biggestnugget ever dug in Idaho!... THIRTY POUNDS!"
Kells seemed suddenly to inflame, to blaze with white passion. "Good forJim!" he yelled, ringingly. He could scarcely have been more elated ifhe had made the strike himself.
Jesse Smith came stamping in, with a crowd elbowing their way behindhim. Joan had a start of the old panic at sight of Gulden. For once thegiant was not slow nor indifferent. His big eyes glared. He broughtback to Joan the sickening sense of the brute strength of his massivepresence. Some of his cronies were with him. For the rest, therewere Blicky and Handy Oliver and Chick Williams. The whole group boreresemblance to a pack of wolves about to leap upon its prey. Yet,in each man, excepting Gulden, there was that striking aspect ofexultation.
"Where's Jim?" demanded Kells.
"He's comin' along," replied Pearce. "He's sure been runnin' a gantlet.His strike stopped work in the diggin's. What do you think of that,Kells? The news spread like smoke before wind. Every last miner in camphas jest got to see thet lump of gold."
"Maybe I don't want to see it!" exclaimed Kells. "A thirty-pounder! Iheard of one once, sixty pounds, but I never saw it. You can't believetill you see."
"Jim's comin' up the road now," said one of the men near the door. "Thetcrowd hangs on.... But I reckon he's shakin' them."
"What'll Cleve do with this nugget?"
Gulden's big voice, so powerful, yet feelingless, caused a momentarysilence. The expression of many faces changed. Kells looked startled,then annoyed.
"Why, Gulden, that's not my affair--nor yours," replied Kells. "Clevedug it and it belongs to him."
"Dug or stole--it's all the same," responded Gulden.
Kell's threw up his hands as if it were useless and impossible to reasonwith this man.
Then the crowd surged round the door with shuffling boots and hoarse,mingled greetings to Cleve, who presently came plunging in out of themelee.
His face wore a flush of radiance; his eyes were like diamonds. Joanthrilled and thrilled at sight of him. He was beautiful. Yet there wasabout him a more striking wildness. He carried a gun in one hand and inthe other an object wrapped in his scarf. He flung this upon the tablein front of Kells. It made a heavy, solid thump. The ends of the scarfflew aside, and there lay a magnificent nugget of gold, black and rustyin parts, but with a dull, yellow glitter in others.
"Boss, what'll you bet against that?" cried Cleve, with exulting laugh.He was like a boy.
Kells reached for the nugget as if it were not an actual object, andwhen his hands closed on it he fondled it and weighed it and dug hisnails into it and tasted it.
"My God!" he ejaculated, in wondering ecstasy. Then this, and theexcitement, and the obsession all changed into sincere gladness. "Jim,you're born lucky. You, the youngster born unlucky in love! Why, youcould buy any woman with this!"
"Could I? Find me one," responded Cleve, with swift boldness.
Kells laughed. "I don't know any worth so much."
"What'll I do with it?" queried Cleve.
"Why, you fool youngster! Has it turned your head, too? What'd you dowith the rest of your dust? You've certainly been striking it rich."
"I spent it--lost it--lent it--gave some away and--saved a little."
"Probably you'll do the same with this. You're a good fellow, Jim."
"But this nugget means a lot of money. Between six and seven thousanddollars."
"You won't need advice how to spend it, even if it was a million....Tell me, Jim, how'd you strike it?"
"Funny about that," replied Cleve. "Things were poor for several days.Dug off branches into my claim. One grew to be a deep hole in gravel,hard to dig. My claim was once the bed of a stream, full of rocks thatthe water had rolled down once. This hole sort of haunted me. I'd leaveit when my back got so sore I couldn't bend, but always I'd return. I'dsay there wasn't a darned grain of gold in that gravel; then like a foolI'd go back and dig for all I was worth. No chance of finding blue dirtdown there! But I kept on. And to-day when my pick hit what felt like asoft rock--I looked and saw the gleam of gold!... You ought to have seenme claw out that nugget! I whooped and brought everybody around. Therest was a parade.... Now I'm embarrassed by riches. What to do withit?"
"Wal, go back to Montana an' make thet fool girl sick," suggested one ofthe men who had heard Jim's fictitious story of himself.
"Dug or stole is all the same!" boomed the imperturbable Gulden.
Kells turned white with rage, and Cleve swept a swift and shrewd glanceat the giant.
"Sure, that's my idea," declared Cleve. "I'll divide as--as we planned."
"You'll do nothing of the kind," retorted Kells. "You dug for that goldand it's yours."
"Well, boss, then say a quarter share to you and the same to me--anddivide the rest among the gang."
"No!" exclaimed Kells, violently.
Joan imagined he was actuated as much by justice to Cleve as oppositionto Gulden.
"Jim Cleve, you're a square pard if I ever seen one," declared Pearce,admiringly. "An' I'm here to say thet I wouldn't hev a share of yournugget."
"Nor me," spoke up Jesse Smith.
"I pass, too," said Chick Williams.
"Jim, if I was dyin' fer a drink I wouldn't stand fer thet deal," addedBlicky, with a fine scorn.
These men, and others who spoke or signified their refusal, attested tothe living truth that there was honor even among robbers. But there wasnot the slightest suggestion of change in Gulden's attitude or of thoseback of him.
"Share and share alike for me!" he muttered, grimly, with those greateyes upon the nugget.
Kells, with an agile bound, reached the table and pounded it with hisfist, confronting the giant.
"So you say!" he hissed in dark passion. "You've gone too far, Gulden.Here's where I call you!... You don't get a gram of that gold nugget.Jim's worked like a dog. If he digs up a million I'll see he gets itall. Maybe you loafers haven't a hunch what Jim's done for you. He'shelped our big deal more than you or I. His honest work has made it easyfor me to look honest. He's supposed to be engaged to marry my daughter.That more than anything was a blind. It made my stand, and I tell youthat stand is high in this camp. Go down there and swear Blight is JackKells! See what you get!... That's all.... I'm dealing the cards in thisgame!"
Kells did not cow Gulden--for it was likely the giant lacked the feelingof fear--but he overruled him by sheer strength of spirit.
Gulden backed away stolidly, apparently dazed by his own movements; thenhe plunged out the door, and the ruffians who had given silent but sureexpression of their loyalty tramped after him.
"Reckon thet starts the split!" declared Red Pearce.
"Suppose you'd been in Jim's place!" flashed Kells.
"Jack, I ain't sayin' a word. You was square. I'd want you to do thesame by me.... But fetchin' the girl into the deal--"
Kells's passionate and menacing gesture shut Pearce's lips. He lifted ahand, resignedly, and went out.
"Jim," said Kells, earnestly, "take my hunch. Hide your nugget. Don'tsend it out with the stage to Bannack. It'd never get there.... Andchange the place where you sleep!"
"Thanks," replied Cleve, brightly. "I'll hide my nugget all right. AndI'll take care of myself."
Later that night Joan waited at her window for Jim. It was so quiet thatshe could hear the faint murmur of the shallow creek. The sky was duskyblue; the stars were white, the night breeze sweet and cool. Her firstflush of elation for Jim having passed, she experienced a sinking ofcourage. Were they not in peril enough without Jim's finding a fortune?How dark and significant had been Kells's hint! There was somethingsplendid in the bandit. Never had Joan felt so grateful to him. He wasa villain, yet he was a man. What hatred he showed for Gulden! Theserivals would surely meet in a terrible conflict--for power--for gold.And for her!--she added, involuntarily, with a deep, inward shudder.Once the
thought had flashed through her mind, it seemed like a word ofrevelation.
Then she started as a dark form rose out of the shadow under her and ahand clasped hers. Jim! and she lifted her face.
"Joan! Joan! I'm rich! rich!" he babbled, wildly.
"Ssssh!" whispered Joan, softly, in his ear. "Be careful. You're wildto-night.... I saw you come in with the nugget. I heard you.... Oh, youlucky Jim! I'll tell you what to do with it!"
"Darling! It's all yours. You'll marry me now?"
"Sir! Do you take me for a fortune-hunter? I marry you for your gold?Never!"
"Joan!"
"I've promised," she said.
"I won't go away now. I'll work my claim," he began, excitedly. And hewent on so rapidly that Joan could not keep track of his words. Hewas not so cautious as formerly. She remonstrated with him, all tono purpose. Not only was he carried away by possession of goldand assurance of more, but he had become masterful, obstinate, andillogical. He was indeed hopeless to-night--the gold had gotten into hisblood. Joan grew afraid he would betray their secret and realized therehad come still greater need for a woman's wit. So she resorted to anever-failing means of silencing him, of controlling him--her lips onhis.