s gripped her with a force that made her wince.
And now she grew as afraid of him as she had been for him. But she had
spirit enough to grow angry, also.

"Certainly he does."

Jim Cleve echoed her first word, and then through grinding teeth he
cursed. "I'm going to--stop it!" he panted, and his eyes looked big and
dark and wild in the starlight.

"You can't. I belong to Kells. You at least ought to have sense enough
to see that."

"Belong to him!... For God's sake! By what right?"

"By the right of possession. Might is right here on the border. Haven't
you told me that a hundred times? Don't you hold your claim--your
gold--by the right of your strength? It's the law of this border. To be
sure Kells stole me. But just now I belong to him. And lately I see his
consideration--his kindness in the light of what he could do if he held
to that border law.... And of all the men I've met out here Kells is the
least wild with this gold fever. He sends his men out to do murder for
gold; he'd sell his soul to gamble for gold; but just the same, he's
more of a man than---"

"Joan!" he interrupted, piercingly. "You love this bandit!"

"You're a fool!" burst out Joan.

"I guess--I--am," he replied in terrible, slow earnestness. He raised
himself and appeared to loom over her and released his hold.

But Joan fearfully retained her clasp on his arm, and when he surged to
get away she was hard put to it to hold him.

"Jim! Where are you going?"

He stood there a moment, a dark form against the night shadow, like an
outline of a man cut from black stone.

"I'll just step around--there."

"Oh, what for?" whispered Joan.

"I'm going to kill Kells."

Joan got both arms round his neck and with her head against him she
held him tightly, trying, praying to think how to meet this long-dreaded
moment. After all, what was the use to try? This was the hour of Gold!
Sacrifice, hope, courage, nobility, fidelity--these had no place here
now. Men were the embodiment of passion--ferocity. They breathed only
possession, and the thing in the balance was death. Women were creatures
to hunger and fight for, but womanhood was nothing. Joan knew all this
with a desperate hardening certainty, and almost she gave in. Strangely,
thought of Gulden flashed up to make her again strong! Then she raised
her face and began the old pleading with Jim, but different this time,
when it seemed that absolutely all was at stake. She begged him, she
impor