look at her in
that outrageous bandit costume; it might have pleased certain vain
and notoriety-seeking proclivities of his, habits of his California
road-agent days; but she felt that notwithstanding this, once she had
donned the long coat he was relieved and glad in spite of himself. Joan
had a little rush of feeling. Sometimes she almost liked this bandit.
Once he must have been something very different.

They set out, Joan between Kells and Cleve. How strange for her! She
had daring enough to feel for Jim's hand in the dark and to give it a
squeeze. Then he nearly broke her fingers. She felt the fire in him. It
was indeed a hard situation for him. The walking was rough, owing to the
uneven road and the stones. Several times Joan stumbled and her spurs
jangled. They passed ruddy camp-fires, where steam and smoke arose with
savory odors, where red-faced men were eating; and they passed other
camp-fires, burned out and smoldering. Some tents had dim lights,
throwing shadows on the canvas, and others were dark. There were men on
the road, all headed for town, gay, noisy and profane.

Then Joan saw uneven rows of lights, some dim and some bright, and
crossing before them were moving dark figures. Again Kells bethought
himself of his own disguise, and buried his chin in his scarf and pulled
his wide-brimmed hat down so that hardly a glimpse of his face could be
seen. Joan could not have recognized him at the distance of a yard.

They walked down the middle of the road, past the noisy saloons,
past the big, flat structure with its sign "Last Nugget" and its open
windows, where shafts of light shone forth, and all the way down to the
end of town. Then Kells turned back. He scrutinized each group of men he
met. He was looking for members of his Border Legion. Several times he
left Cleve and Joan standing in the road while he peered into saloons.
At these brief intervals Joan looked at Cleve with all her heart in her
eyes. He never spoke. He seemed under a strain. Upon the return, when
they reached the Last Nugget, Kells said:

"Jim, hang on to her like grim death! She's worth more than all the gold
in Alder Creek!"

Then they started for the door.

Joan clung to Cleve on one side, and on the other, instinctively with a
frightened girl's action, she let go Kells's arm and slipped her hand in
his. He seemed startled. He bent to her ear, for the din made ordinary
talk indistinguishable. That involuntary hand in his eviden