ut not
natural.

Joan started to cross to him when Kells strode between them. She might
not have been there, for all the sign this ominous man gave of her
presence. He confronted Roberts in the middle of the camp-circle, and
halted, perhaps a rod distant.

"Roberts, get on your horse and clear out," he said.

Roberts dropped his halter and straightened up. It was a bolder action
than any he had heretofore given. Perhaps the mask was off now; he was
wholly sure of what he had only feared; subterfuge and blindness were
in vain; and now he could be a man. Some change worked in his face--a
blanching, a setting.

"No, I won't go without the girl," he said.

"But you can't take her!"

Joan vibrated to a sudden start. So this was what was going to happen.
Her heart almost stood still. Breathless and quivering, she watched
these two men, about whom now all was strangely magnified.

"Reckon I'll go along with you, then," replied Roberts.

"Your company's not wanted."

"Wal, I'll go anyway."

This was only play at words, Joan thought. She divined in Roberts a
cold and grim acceptance of something he had expected. And the voice
of Kells--what did that convey? Still the man seemed slow, easy, kind,
amiable.

"Haven't you got any sense, Roberts?" he asked.

Roberts made no reply to that.

"Go on home. Say nothing or anything--whatever you like," continued
Kells. "You did me a favor once over in California. I like to remember
favors. Use your head now. Hit the trail."

"Not without her. I'll fight first," declared Roberts, and his hands
began to twitch and jerk.

Joan did not miss the wonderful intentness of the pale-gray eyes that
watched Roberts--his face, his glance, his hands.

"What good will it do to fight?" asked Kells. He laughed coolly. "That
won't help her... You ought to know what you'll get."

"Kells--I'll die before I leave that girl in your clutches," flashed
Roberts. "An' I ain't a-goin' to stand here an' argue with you. Let her
come--or--"

"You don't strike me as a fool," interrupted Kells. His voice was suave,
smooth, persuasive, cool. What strength--what certainty appeared behind
it! "It's not my habit to argue with fools. Take the chance I offer
you. Hit the trail. Life is precious, man!... You've no chance here. And
what's one girl more or less to you?"

"Kells, I may be a fool, but I'm a man," passionately rejoined Roberts.
"Why, you're somethin' inhuman! I knew that out in the gold-fie