canon. The trail was bad. Part of the time it was the bottom of a
boulder-strewn brook where the horses slipped on the wet, round stones.
Progress was slow and time passed. For Joan, however, it was a relief;
and the slower they might travel the better she would like it. At the
end of that journey there were Gulden and the others, and the gold-camp
with its illimitable possibilities for such men.

At noon the party halted for a rest. The camp site was pleasant and the
men were all agreeable. During the meal Kells found occasion to remark
to Cleve:

"Say youngster, you've brightened up. Must be because of our prospects
over here."

"Not that so much," replied Cleve. "I quit the whisky. To be honest,
Kells, I was almost seeing snakes."

"I'm glad you quit. When you're drinking you're wild. I never yet saw
the man who could drink hard and keep his head. I can't. But I don't
drink much."

His last remark brought a response in laughter. Evidently his companions
thought he was joking. He laughed himself and actually winked at Joan.

It happened to be Cleve whom Kells told to saddle Joan's horse, and as
Joan tried the cinches, to see if they were too tight to suit her, Jim's
hand came in contact with hers. That touch was like a message. Joan was
thrilling all over as she looked at Jim, but he kept his face averted.
Perhaps he did not trust his eyes.

Travel was resumed up the canon and continued steadily, though
leisurely. But the trail was so rough, and so winding, that Joan
believed the progress did not exceed three miles an hour. It was the
kind of travel in which a horse could be helped and that entailed
attention to the lay of the ground. Before Joan realized the hours were
flying, the afternoon had waned. Smith kept on, however, until nearly
dark before halting for camp.

The evening camp was a scene of activity, and all except Joan had work
to do. She tried to lend a hand, but Wood told her to rest. This she was
glad to do. When called to supper she had almost fallen asleep. After
a long day's ride the business of eating precluded conversation. Later,
however, the men began to talk between puffs on their pipes, and from
the talk no one could have guessed that here was a band of robbers
on their way to a gold camp. Jesse Smith had a sore foot and he was
compared to a tenderfoot on his first ride. Smith retaliated in kind.
Every consideration was shown Joan, and Wood particularly appeared
assiduous in his desir