17
Apparently to Kells that nugget did not accuse Jim Cleve of treachery.Not only did this possibility seem lost upon the bandit leader, but alsothe sinister intent of Gulden and his associates.
"Then Jim didn't kill Creede!" cried Kells.
A strange light flashed across his face. It fitted the note of gladnessin his exclamation. How strange that in his amaze there should be reliefinstead of suspicion! Joan thought she understood Kells. He was gladthat he had not yet made a murderer out of Cleve.
Gulden appeared slow in rejoining. "I told you I got Creede," he said."And we want to know if this says to you what it says to us."
His huge, hairy hand tapped the nugget. Then Kells caught theimplication.
"What does it say to you?" he queried, coolly, and he eyed Gulden andthen the grim men behind him.
"Somebody in the gang is crooked. Somebody's giving you thedouble-cross. We've known that for long. Jim Cleve goes out to killCreede. He comes in with Creede's gold-belt--and a lie!... We thinkCleve is the crooked one."
"No! You're way off, Gulden," replied Kells, earnestly. "That boy isabsolutely square. He's lied to me about Creede. But I can excusethat. He lost his nerve. He's only a youngster. To knife a man in hissleep--that was too much for Jim!... And I'm glad! I see it all now.Jim's swapped his big nugget for Creede's belt. And in the bargainhe exacted that Creede hit the trail out of camp. You happened to seeCreede and went after him yourself.... Well, I don't see where you'veany kick coming. For you've ten times the money in Cleve's nugget thatthere was in a share of Creede's gold."
"That's not my kick," declared Gulden. "What you say about Cleve may betrue. But I don't believe it. And the gang is sore. Things have leakedout. We're watched. We're not welcome in the gambling-places any more.Last night I was not allowed to sit in the game at Belcher's."
"You think Cleve has squealed?" queried Kells.
"Yes."
"I'll bet you every ounce of dust I've got that you're wrong," declaredKells. "A straight, square bet against anything you want to put up!"
Kells's ringing voice was nothing if not convincing.
"Appearances are against Cleve," growled Gulden, dubiously. Always hehad been swayed by the stronger mind of the leader.
"Sure they are," agreed Kells.
"Then what do you base your confidence on?"
"Just my knowledge of men. Jim Cleve wouldn't squeal.... Gulden, didanybody tell you that?"
"Yes," replied Gulden, slowly. "Red Pearce."
"Pearce was a liar," said Kells, bitterly. "I shot him for lying to me."
Gulden stared. His men muttered and gazed at one another and around thecabin.
"Pearce told me you set Cleve to kill me," suddenly spoke up the giant.
If he expected to surprise Kells he utterly failed.
"That's another and bigger lie," replied the bandit leader, disgustedly."Gulden, do you think my mind's gone?"
"Not quite," replied Gulden, and he seemed as near a laugh as waspossible for him.
"Well, I've enough mind left not to set a boy to kill such a man asyou."
Gulden might have been susceptible to flattery. He turned to his men.They, too, had felt Kells's subtle influence. They were ready to veerround like weather-vanes.
"Red Pearce has cashed, an' he can't talk for himself," said BeadyJones, as if answering to the unspoken thought of all.
"Men, between you and me, I had more queer notions about Pearce thanCleve," announced Gulden, gruffly. "But I never said so because I had noproof."
"Red shore was sore an' strange lately," added Chick Williams. "Me an'him were pretty thick once--but not lately."
The giant Gulden scratched his head and swore. Probably he had no senseof justice and was merely puzzled.
"We're wastin' a lot of time," put in Beard, anxiously. "Don't fergitthere's somethin' comin' off down in camp, an' we ain't sure what."
"Bah! Haven't we heard whispers of vigilantes for a week?" queriedGulden.
Then some one of the men looked out of the door and suddenly whistled.
"Who's thet on a hoss?"
Gulden's gang crowded to the door.
"Thet's Handy Oliver."
"No!"
"Shore is. I know him. But it ain't his hoss.... Say, he's hurryin'."
Low exclamations of surprise and curiosity followed. Kells and his menlooked attentively, but no one spoke. The clatter of hoofs on the stonyroad told of a horse swiftly approaching--pounding to a halt before thecabin.
"Handy!... Air you chased?... What's wrong?... You shore look pale roundthe gills." These and other remarks were flung out the door.
"Where's Kells? Let me in," replied Oliver, hoarsely.
The crowd jostled and split to admit the long, lean Oliver. He stalkedstraight toward Kells, till the table alone stood between them. He wasgray of face, breathing hard, resolute and stern.
"Kells, I throwed--you--down!" he said, with outstretched hand. It was agesture of self-condemnation and remorse.
"What of that?" demanded Kells, with his head leaping like the strike ofan eagle.
"I'm takin' it back!"
Kells met the outstretched hand with his own and wrung it. "Handy, Inever knew you to right--about--face. But I'm glad.... What's changedyou so quickly?"
"VIGILANTES!"
Kells's animation and eagerness suddenly froze. "VIGILANTES!" he groundout.
"No rumor, Kells, this time. I've sure some news.... Come close, allyou fellows. You, Gulden, come an' listen. Here's where we git togethercloser'n ever."
Gulden surged forward with his group. Handy Oliver was surrounded bypale, tight faces, dark-browed and hardeyed.
He gazed at them, preparing them for a startling revelation. "Men, ofall the white-livered traitors as ever was Red Pearce was the worst!" hedeclared, hoarsely.
No one moved or spoke.
"AN' HE WAS A VIGILANTE!"
A low, strange sound, almost a roar, breathed through the group.
"Listen now an' don't interrupt. We ain't got a lot of time.... So nevermind how I happened to find out about Pearce. It was all accident, an'jest because I put two an' two together.... Pearce was approached by oneof this secret vigilante band, an' he planned to sell the Border Legionoutright. There was to be a big stake in it for him. He held offday after day, only tippin' off some of the gang. There's Dartt an'Singleton an' Frenchy an' Texas all caught red-handed at jobs. Pearceput the vigilantes to watchin' them jest to prove his claim.... Aw! I'vegot the proofs! Jest wait. Listen to me!... You all never in your livesseen a snake like Red Pearce. An' the job he had put up on us was grand.To-day he was to squeal on the whole gang. You know how he began onKells--an' how with his oily tongue he asked a guarantee of no gun-play.But he figgered Kells wrong for once. He accused Kells's girl an' gotkilled for his pains. Mebbe it was part of his plan to git the girlhimself. Anyway, he had agreed to betray the Border Legion to-day. An'if he hadn't been killed by this time we'd all be tied up, ready for thenoose!... Mebbe thet wasn't a lucky shot of the boss's. Men, I was thefirst to declare myself against Kells, an' I'm here now to say thet Iwas a fool. So you've all been fools who've bucked against him. If thisain't provin' it, what can!
"But I must hustle with my story.... They was havin' a trial down atthe big hall, an' thet place was sure packed. No diggin' gold to-day!...Think of what thet means for Alder Creek. I got inside where I couldstand on a barrel an' see. Dartt an' Singleton an' Frenchy an' Texas wasbein' tried by a masked court. A man near me said two of them had beenproved guilty. It didn't take long to make out a case against Texasan' Frenchy. Miners there recognized them an' identified them. They wasconvicted an' sentenced to be hung!.. Then the offer was made to letthem go free out of the border if they'd turn state's evidence an' giveaway the leader an' men of the Border Legion. Thet was put up to eachprisoner. Dartt he never answered at all. An' Singleton told them to goto hell. An' Texas he swore he was only a common an' honest road-agent,an' never heard of the
Legion. But the Frenchman showed a yellow streak.He might have taken the offer. But Texas cussed him tumble, an' made himashamed to talk. But if they git Frenchy away from Texas they'll makehim blab. He's like a greaser. Then there was a delay. The big crowdof miners yelled for ropes. But the vigilantes are waitin', an' it's myhunch they're waitin' for Pearce."
"So! And where do we stand?" cried Kells, clear and cold.
"We're not spotted yet, thet's certain," replied Oliver, "else themmasked vigilantes would have been on the job before now. But it's notsense to figger we can risk another day.... I reckon it's hit the trailback to Cabin Gulch."
"Gulden, what do you say?" queried Kells, sharply.
"I'll go or stay--whatever you want," replied the giant. In this crisishe seemed to be glad to have Kells decide the issue. And his followersresembled sheep ready to plunge after the leader.
But though Kells, by a strange stroke, had been made wholly master ofthe Legion, he did not show the old elation or radiance. Perhaps he sawmore clearly than ever before. Still he was quick, decisive, strong,equal to the occasion.
"Listen--all of you," he said. "Our horses and outfits are hidden in agulch several miles below camp. We've got to go that way. We can't packany grub or stuff from here. We'll risk going through camp. Now leavehere two or three at a time, and wait down there on the edge of thecrowd for me. When I come we'll stick together. Then all do as I do."
Gulden put the nugget under his coat and strode out, accompanied by Buddand Jones. They hurried away. The others went in couples. Soon only BateWood and Handy Oliver were left with Kells.
"Now you fellows go," said Kells. "Be sure to round up the gang downthere and wait for me."
When they had gone he called for Jim and Joan to come out.
All this time Joan's hand had been gripped in Jim's, and Joan had beenso absorbed that she had forgotten the fact. He released her and facedher, silent, pale. Then he went out. Joan swiftly followed.
Kells was buckling on his spurs. "You heard?" he said, the moment he sawJim's face.
"Yes," replied Jim.
"So much the better. We've got to rustle.... Joan, put on that longcoat of Cleve's. Take off your mask.... Jim, get what gold you have, andhurry. If we're gone when you come back hurry down the road. I want youwith me."
Cleve stalked out, and Joan ran into her room and put on the long coat.She had little time to choose what possessions she could take; and thatchoice fell upon the little saddle-bag, into which she hurriedly stuffedcomb and brush and soap--all it would hold. Then she returned to thelarger room.
Kells had lifted a plank of the floor, and was now in the act of puttingsmall buckskin sacks of gold into his pockets. They made his coat bulgeat the sides.
"Joan, stick some meat and biscuits in your pockets," he said. "I'dnever get hungry with my pockets full of gold. But you might."
Joan rummaged around in Bate Wood's rude cupboard.
"These biscuits are as heavy as gold--and harder," she said.
Kells flashed a glance at her that held pride, admiration, and sadness."You are the gamest girl I ever knew! I wish I'd--But that's toolate!... Joan, if anything happens to me stick close to Cleve. I believeyou can trust him. Come on now."
Then he strode out of the cabin. Joan had almost to run to keep upwith him. There were no other men now in sight. She knew that Jim wouldfollow soon, because his gold-dust was hidden in the cavern back ofher room, and he would not need much time to get it. Nevertheless,she anxiously looked back. She and Kells had gone perhaps a couple ofhundred yards before Jim appeared, and then he came on the run. At apoint about opposite the first tents he joined Kells.
"Jim, how about guns?" asked the bandit.
"I've got two," replied Cleve.
"Good! There's no telling--Jim, I'm afraid of the gang. They're crazy.What do you think?"
"I don't know. It's a hard proposition."
"We'll get away, all right. Don't worry about that. But the gang willnever come together again." This singular man spoke with melancholy."Slow up a little now," he added. "We don't want to attractattention.... But where is there any one to see us?... Jim, did I haveyou figured right about the Creede job?"
"You sure did. I just lost my nerve."
"Well, no matter."
Then Kells appeared to forget that. He stalked on with keen glancessearching everywhere, until suddenly, when he saw round a bend of theroad, he halted with grating teeth. That road was empty all the way tothe other end of camp, but there surged a dark mob of men. Kells stalkedforward again. The Last Nugget appeared like an empty barn. How vacantand significant the whole center of camp! Kells did not speak anotherword.
Joan hurried on between Kells and Cleve. She was trying to fortifyherself to meet what lay at the end of the road. A strange, hoarse roarof men and an upflinging of arms made her shudder. She kept her eyeslowered and clung to the arms of her companions.
Finally they halted. She felt the crowd before she saw it. A motleyassemblage with what seemed craned necks and intent backs! They were alllooking forward and upward. But she forced her glance down.
Kells stood still. Jim's grip was hard upon her arm. Presently mengrouped round Kells. She heard whispers. They began to walk slowly, andshe was pushed and led along. More men joined the group. Soon she andKells and Jim were hemmed in a circle. Then she saw the huge formof Gulden, the towering Oliver, and Smith and Blicky, Beard, Jones,Williams, Budd, and others. The circle they formed appeared to be onlyone of many groups, all moving, whispering, facing from her. Suddenly asound like the roar of a wave agitated that mass of men. It was harsh,piercing, unnatural, yet it had a note of wild exultation. Then came thestamp and surge, and then the upflinging of arms, and then the abruptstrange silence, broken only by a hiss or an escaping breath, like asob. Beyond all Joan's power to resist was a deep, primitive desire tolook.
There over the heads of the mob--from the bench of the slope--rosegrotesque structures of new-hewn lumber. On a platform stood black,motionless men in awful contrast with a dangling object that doubled upand curled upon itself in terrible convulsions. It lengthened while itswayed; it slowed its action while it stretched. It took on the form ofa man. He swung by a rope round his neck. His head hung back. His handsbeat. A long tremor shook the body; then it was still, and swayed to andfro, a dark, limp thing.
Joan's gaze was riveted in horror. A dim, red haze made her visionimperfect. There was a sickening riot within her.
There were masked men all around the platform--a solid phalanx of themon the slope above. They were heavily armed. Other masked men stood onthe platform. They seemed rigid figures--stiff, jerky when they moved.How different from the two forms swaying below!
The structure was a rude scaffold and the vigilantes had already hangedtwo bandits.
Two others with hands bound behind their backs stood farther along theplatform under guard. Before each dangled a noose.
Joan recognized Texas and Frenchy. And on the instant the great crowdlet out a hard breath that ended in silence.
The masked leader of the vigilantes was addressing Texas: "We'll spareyour life if you confess. Who's the head of this Border Legion?"
"Shore it's Red Pearce!... Haw! Haw! Haw!"
"We'll give you one more chance," came the curt reply.
Texas appeared to become serious and somber. "I swear to God it'sPearce!" he declared.
"A lie won't save you. Come, the truth! We think we know, but we wantproof! Hurry!"
"You can go where it's hot!" responded Texas.
The leader moved his hand and two other masked men stepped forward.
"Have you any message to send any one--anything to say?" he asked.
"Nope."
"Have you any request to make?"
"Hang that Frenchman before me! I want to see him kick."
Nothing more was said. The two men adjusted the noose round the doomedman's neck. Texas refused the black cap. And he did not wait for thedrop to be sprung. He walked off the
platform into space as Joan closedher eyes.
Again that strange, full, angry, and unnatural roar waved through thethrong of watchers. It was terrible to hear. Joan felt the violentaction of that crowd, although the men close round her were immovable asstones. She imagined she could never open her eyes to see Texas hangingthere. Yet she did--and something about his form told her that he haddied instantly. He had been brave and loyal even in dishonor. He hadmore than once spoken a kind word to her. Who could tell what had madehim an outcast? She breathed a prayer for his soul.
The vigilantes were bolstering up the craven Frenchy. He could notstand alone. They put the rope round his neck and lifted him off theplatform--then let him down. He screamed in his terror. They cut shorthis cries by lifting him again. This time they held him up severalseconds. His face turned black. His eyes bulged. His breast heaved. Hislegs worked with the regularity of a jumping-jack. They let him down andloosened the noose. They were merely torturing him to wring a confessionfrom him. He had been choked severely and needed a moment to recover.When he did it was to shrink back in abject terror from that loop ofrope dangling before his eyes.
The vigilante leader shook the noose in his face and pointed to theswaying forms of the dead bandits.
Frenchy frothed at the mouth as he shrieked out words in his nativetongue, but any miner there could have translated their meaning.
The crowd heaved forward, as if with one step, then stood in a strainedsilence.
"Talk English!" ordered the vigilante.
"I'll tell! I'll tell!"
Joan became aware of a singular tremor in Kells's arm, which she stillclasped. Suddenly it jerked. She caught a gleam of blue. Then the bellowof a gun almost split her ears. Powder burned her cheek. She saw Frenchydouble up and collapse on the platform.
For an instant there was a silence in which every man seemed petrified.Then burst forth a hoarse uproar and the stamp of many boots. All inanother instant pandemonium broke out. The huge crowd split in everydirection. Joan felt Cleve's strong arm around her--felt herself borneon a resistless tide of yelling, stamping, wrestling men. She had aglimpse of Kells's dark face drawing away from her; another of Gulden'sgiant form in Herculean action, tossing men aside like ninepins; anotherof weapons aloft. Savage, wild-eyed men fought to get into the circlewhence that shot had come. They broke into it, but did not know thenwhom to attack or what to do. And the rushing of the frenzied miners allaround soon disintegrated Kells's band and bore its several groups inevery direction. There was not another shot fired.
Joan was dragged and crushed in the melee. Not for rods did her feettouch the ground. But in the clouds of dust and confusion of strugglingforms she knew Jim still held her, and she clasped him with all herstrength. Presently her feet touched the earth; she was not jostledand pressed; then she felt free to walk; and with Jim urging her theyclimbed a rock-strewn slope till a cabin impeded further progress. Butthey had escaped the stream.
Below was a strange sight. A scaffold shrouded in dust-clouds; a bandof bewildered vigilantes with weapons drawn, waiting for they knew notwhat; three swinging, ghastly forms and a dead man on the platform; andall below, a horde of men trying to escape from one another. That shotof Kells's had precipitated a rush. No miner knew who the vigilanteswere nor the members of the Border Legion. Every man there expecteda bloody battle--distrusted the man next to him--and had given way topanic. The vigilantes had tried to crowd together for defense andall the others had tried to escape. It was a wild scene, born of wildjustice and blood at fever-heat, the climax of a disordered time wheregold and violence reigned supreme. It could only happen once, but itwas terrible while it lasted. It showed the craven in men; it proved thebaneful influence of gold; it brought, in its fruition, the destiny ofAlder Creek Camp. For it must have been that the really brave andhonest men in vast majority retraced their steps while the vicious keptrunning. So it seemed to Joan.
She huddled against Jim there in the shadow of the cabin wall, and notfor long did either speak. They watched and listened. The streamsof miners turned back toward the space around the scaffold where thevigilantes stood grouped, and there rose a subdued roar of excitedvoices. Many small groups of men conversed together, until the vigilanteleader brought all to attention by addressing the populace in general.Joan could not hear what he said and had no wish to hear.
"Joan, it all happened so quickly, didn't it?" whispered Jim, shakinghis head as if he was not convinced of reality.
"Wasn't he--terrible!" whispered Joan in reply.
"He! Who?"
"Kells." In her mind the bandit leader dominated all that wild scene.
"Terrible, if you like. But I'd say great!... The nerve of him! In theface of a hundred vigilantes and thousands of miners! But he knew whatthat shot would do!"
"Never! He never thought of that," declared Joan, earnestly. "I felt himtremble. I had a glimpse of his face.... Oh!... First in his mind washis downfall, and, second, the treachery of Frenchy. I think that shotshowed Kells as utterly desperate, but weak. He couldn't have helpedit--if that had been the last bullet in his gun."
Jim Cleve looked strangely at Joan, as if her eloquence was bothpersuasive and incomprehensible.
"Well, that was a lucky shot for us--and him, too."
"Do you think he got away?" she asked, eagerly.
"Sure. They all got away. Wasn't that about the maddest crowd you eversaw?"
"No wonder. In a second every man there feared the man next to him wouldshoot. That showed the power of Kells's Border Legion. If his men hadbeen faithful and obedient he never would have fallen."
"Joan! You speak as if you regret it!"
"Oh, I am ashamed," replied Joan. "I don't mean that. I don't know whatI do mean. But still I'm sorry for Kells. I suffered so much.... Thoselong, long hours of suspense.... And his fortunes seemed my fortunes--myvery life--and yours, too, Jim."
"I think I understand, dear," said Jim, soberly.
"Jim, what'll we do now? Isn't it strange to feel free?"
"I feel as queer as you. Let me think," replied Jim.
They huddled there in comparative seclusion for a long time after that.Joan tried to think of plans, but her mind seemed, unproductive. Shefelt half dazed. Jim, too, appeared to be laboring under the same kindof burden. Moreover, responsibility had been added to his.
The afternoon waned till the sun tipped the high range in the west. Theexcitement of the mining populace gradually wore away, and towardsunset strings of men filed up the road and across the open. The maskedvigilantes disappeared, and presently only a quiet and curious crowdwas left round the grim scaffold and its dark swinging forms. Joan's oneglance showed that the vigilantes had swung Frenchy's dead body in thenoose he would have escaped by treachery. They had hanged him dead. Whata horrible proof of the temper of these newborn vigilantes! They hadleft the bandits swinging. What sight was so appalling as these limp,dark, swaying forms? Dead men on the ground had a dignity--at least thedignity of death. And death sometimes had a majesty. But here both lifeand death had been robbed and there was only horror. Joan felt that allher life she would be haunted.
"Joan, we've got to leave Alder Creek," declared Cleve, finally. He roseto his feet. The words seemed to have given him decision. "At first Ithought every bandit in the gang would run as far as he could from here.But--you can't tell what these wild men will do. Gulden, for instance!Common sense ought to make them hide for a spell. Still, no matterwhat's what, we must leave.... Now, how to go?"
"Let's walk. If we buy horses or wait for the stage we'll have to seemen here--and I'm afraid--"
"But, Joan, there'll be bandits along the road sure. And the trails,wherever they are, would be less safe."
"Let's travel by night and rest by day."
"That won't do, with so far to go and no pack."
"Then part of the way."
"No. We'd better take the stage for Bannack. If it starts at all it'llbe under armed guard. The only thing is--will it leave soon?... Come
,Joan, we'll go down into camp."
Dusk had fallen and lights had begun to accentuate the shadows. Joankept close beside Jim, down the slope, and into the road. She felt likea guilty thing and every passing man or low-conversing group frightenedher. Still she could not help but see that no one noticed her or Jim,and she began to gather courage. Jim also acquired confidence. Thegrowing darkness seemed a protection. The farther up the street theypassed, the more men they met. Again the saloons were in full blast.Alder Creek had returned to the free, careless tenor of its way. Afew doors this side of the Last Nugget was the office of the stage andexpress company. It was a wide tent with the front canvas cut out anda shelf-counter across the opening. There was a dim, yellow lamplight.Half a dozen men lounged in front, and inside were several more, two ofwhom appeared to be armed guards. Jim addressed no one in particular.
"When does the next stage leave for Bannack?"
A man looked up sharply from the papers that littered a table beforehim. "It leaves when we start it," he replied, curtly.
"Well, when will that be?"
"What's that to you?" he replied, with a question still more curt.
"I want to buy seats for two."
"That's different. Come in and let's look you over.... Hello! it's youngCleve. I didn't recognize you. Excuse me. We're a little particularthese days."
The man's face lighted. Evidently he knew Jim and thought well of him.This reassured Joan and stilled the furious beating of her heart. Shesaw Jim hand over a sack of gold, from which the agent took the amountdue for the passage. Then he returned the sack and whispered somethingin Jim's ear. Jim rejoined her and led her away, pressing her arm closeto his side.
"It's all right," he whispered, excitedly. "Stage leaves just beforedaylight. It used to leave in the middle of the fore-noon. But they wanta good start to-morrow."
"They think it might be held up?"
"He didn't say so. But there's every reason to suspect that.... Joan, Isure hope it won't. Me with all this gold. Why, I feel as if I weighed athousand pounds."
"What'll we do now?" she inquired.
Jim halted in the middle of the road. It was quite dark now. The lightsof the camp were flaring; men were passing to and fro; the loose boardson the walks rattled to their tread; the saloons had begun to hum; andthere was a discordant blast from the Last Nugget.
"That's it--what'll we do?" he asked in perplexity.
Joan had no idea to advance, but with the lessening of her fear and thegradual clearing of her mind she felt that she would not much longer bewitless.
"We've got to eat and get some rest," said Jim, sensibly.
"I'll try to eat--but I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight,"replied Joan.
Jim took her to a place kept by a Mexican. It appeared to consist oftwo tents, with opening in front and door between. The table was a plankresting upon two barrels, and another plank, resting upon kegs, servedas a seat. There was a smoking lamp that flickered. The Mexican'stableware was of a crudeness befitting his house, but it was clean andhe could cook--two facts that Joan appreciated after her long experienceof Bate Wood. She and Jim were the only customers of the Mexican, whospoke English rather well and was friendly. Evidently it pleased him tosee the meal enjoyed. Both the food and the friendliness had good effectupon Jim Cleve. He ceased to listen all the time and to glance furtivelyout at every footstep.
"Joan, I guess it'll turn out all right," he said, clasping her handas it rested upon the table. Suddenly he looked bright-eyed and shy. Heleaned toward her. "Do you remember--we are married?" he whispered.
Joan was startled. "Of course," she replied hastily. But had sheforgotten?
"You're my wife."
Joan looked at him and felt her nerves begin to tingle. A soft, warmwave stole over her.
Like a boy he laughed. "This was our first meal together--on ourhoneymoon!"
"Jim!" The blood burned in Joan's face.
"There you sit--you beautiful... But you're not a girl now. You're DandyDale."
"Don't call me that!" exclaimed Joan.
"But I shall--always. We'll keep that bandit suit always. You can dressup sometimes to show off--to make me remember--to scare the--the kids--"
"Jim Cleve!"
"Oh, Joan, I'm afraid to be happy. But I can't help it. We're going toget away. You belong to me. And I've sacks and sacks of gold-dust. Lord!I've no idea how much! But you can never spend all the money. Isn't itjust like a dream?"
Joan smiled through tears, and failed trying to look severe.
"Get me and the gold away--safe--before you crow," she said.
That sobered him. He led her out again into the dark street with itsdark forms crossing to and fro before the lights.
"It's a long time before morning. Where can I take you--so you can sleepa little?" he muttered.
"Find a place where we can sit down and wait," she suggested.
"No." He pondered a moment. "I guess there's no risk."
Then he led her up the street and through that end of camp out upon therough, open slope. They began to climb. The stars were bright, but evenso Joan stumbled often over the stones. She wondered how Jim could getalong so well in the dark and she clung to his arm. They did not speakoften, and then only in whispers. Jim halted occasionally to listen orto look up at the bold, black bluff for his bearings. Presently he ledher among broken fragments of cliff, and half carried her over rougherground, into a kind of shadowy pocket or niche.
"Here's where I slept," he whispered.
He wrapped a blanket round her, and then they sat down against the rock,and she leaned upon his shoulder.
"I have your coat and the blanket, too," she said. "Won't you be cold?"
He laughed. "Now don't talk any more. You're white and fagged-out. Youneed to rest--to sleep."
"Sleep? How impossible!" she murmured.
"Why, your eyes are half shut now.... Anyway, I'll not talk to you. Iwant to think."
"Jim!... kiss me--good night," she whispered.
He bent over rather violently, she imagined. His head blotted out thelight of the stars. He held her tightly for a moment. She felt himshake. Then he kissed her on the cheek and abruptly drew away. Howstrange he seemed!
For that matter, everything was strange. She had never seen the stars sobright, so full of power, so close. All about her the shadows gatheredprotectingly, to hide her and Jim. The silence spoke. She saw Jim's facein the starlight and it seemed so keen, so listening, so thoughtful, sobeautiful. He would sit there all night, wide-eyed and alert, guardingher, waiting for the gray of dawn. How he had changed! And she was hiswife! But that seemed only a dream. It needed daylight and sight of herring to make that real.
A warmth and languor stole over her; she relaxed comfortably; after all,she would sleep. But why did that intangible dread hang on to her soul?The night was so still and clear and perfect--a radiant white night ofstars--and Jim was there, holding her--and to-morrow they would rideaway. That might be, but dark, dangling shapes haunted her, back in hermind, and there, too, loomed Kells. Where was he now? Gone--gone on hisbloody trail with his broken fortunes and his desperate bitterness! Hehad lost her. The lunge of that wild mob had parted them. A throbof pain and shame went through her, for she was sorry. She could notunderstand why, unless it was because she had possessed some strangepower to instil or bring up good in him. No woman could have been proofagainst that. It was monstrous to know that she had power to turn himfrom an evil life, yet she could not do it. It was more than monstrousto realize that he had gone on spilling blood and would continue to goon when she could have prevented it--could have saved many poor minerswho perhaps had wives or sweethearts somewhere. Yet there was no helpfor it. She loved Jim Cleve. She might have sacrificed herself, but shewould not sacrifice him for all the bandits and miners on the border.
Joan felt that she would always be haunted and would always suffer thatpang for Kells. She would never lie down in the peace and quiet ofher home, wherever that migh
t be, without picturing Kells, dark andforbidding and burdened, pacing some lonely cabin or riding a lonelytrail or lying with his brooding face upturned to the lonely stars.Sooner or later he would meet his doom. It was inevitable. She picturedover that sinister scene of the dangling forms; but no--Kells wouldnever end that way. Terrible as he was, he had not been born to behanged. He might be murdered in his sleep, by one of that band oftraitors who were traitors because in the nature of evil they had to be.But more likely some gambling-hell, with gold and life at stake,would see his last fight. These bandits stole gold and gambled amongthemselves and fought. And that fight which finished Kells mustnecessarily be a terrible one. She seemed to see into a lonely cabinwhere a log fire burned low and lamps flickered and blue smoke floatedin veils and men lay prone on the floor--Kells, stark and bloody, andthe giant Gulden, dead at last and more terrible in death, and on therude table bags of gold and dull, shining heaps of gold, and scatteredon the floor, like streams of sand and useless as sand, dust ofgold--the Destroyer.