walk."

Joan dismounted. There was water in the wash, and she helped Roberts
bathe the sprained and swelling joint. In the interest and sympathy of
the moment she forgot her own trouble.

"Reckon we'll have to make camp right here," said Roberts, looking
around. "Lucky I've a pack on that saddle. I can make you comfortable.
But we'd better be careful about a fire an' not have one after dark."

"There's no help for it," replied Joan. "Tomorrow we'll go on after
Jim. He can't be far ahead now." She was glad that it was impossible to
return home until the next day.

Roberts took the pack off his horse, and then the saddle. And he was
bending over in the act of loosening the cinches of Joan's saddle when
suddenly he straightened up with a jerk.

"What's that?"

Joan heard soft, dull thumps on the turf and then the sharp crack of an
unshod hoof upon stone. Wheeling, she saw three horsemen. They were
just across the wash and coming toward her. One rider pointed in her
direction. Silhouetted against the red of the sunset they made dark and
sinister figures. Joan glanced apprehensively at Roberts. He was staring
with a look of recognition in his eyes. Under his breath he muttered a
curse. And although Joan was not certain, she believed that his face had
shaded gray.

The three horsemen halted on the rim of the wash. One of them was
leading a mule that carried a pack and a deer carcass. Joan had seen
many riders apparently just like these, but none had ever so subtly and
powerfully affected her.

"Howdy," greeted one of the men.

And then Joan was positive that the face of Roberts had turned ashen
gray.

2

"It ain't you--KELLS?"

Roberts's query was a confirmation of his own recognition. And the
other's laugh was an answer, if one were needed.

The three horsemen crossed the wash and again halted, leisurely, as if
time was no object. They were all young, under thirty. The two who had
not spoken were rough-garbed, coarse-featured, and resembled in general
a dozen men Joan saw every day. Kells was of a different stamp. Until he
looked at her he reminded her of someone she had known back in Missouri;
after he looked at her she was aware, in a curious, sickening way, that
no such person as he had ever before seen her. He was pale, gray-eyed,
intelligent, amiable. He appeared to be a man who had been a gentleman.
But there was something strange, intangible, immense about him. Was that
the effect of his presen