r a few questions."

Then a soft hand touched Joan, and a voice differently keyed from any
she had heard on the border addressed her.

"What is your name?" asked the preacher.

Joan told him.

"Can you tell anything about yourself? This young man is--is almost
violent. I'm not sure. Still I want to--"

"I can't tell much," replied Joan, hurriedly. "I'm an honest girl. I'm
free to--to marry him. I--I love him!... Oh, I want to help him. We--we
are in trouble here. I daren't say how."

"Are you over eighteen?" "Yes, sir."

"Do your parents object to this young man?"

"I have no parents. And my uncle, with whom I lived before I was brought
to this awful place, he loves Jim. He always wanted me to marry him."

"Take his hand, then."

Joan felt the strong clasp of Jim's fingers, and that was all which
seemed real at the moment. It seemed so dark and shadowy round these two
black forms in front of her window. She heard a mournful wail of a lone
wolf and it intensified the weird dream that bound her. She heard her
shaking, whispered voice repeating the preacher's words. She caught a
phrase of a low-murmured prayer. Then one dark form moved silently away.
She was alone with Jim.

"Dearest Joan!" he whispered. "It's over! It's done!... Kiss me!"

She lifted her lips and Jim seemed to kiss her more sweetly, with less
violence.

"Oh, Joan, that you'd really have me! I can't believe it.... Your
HUSBAND."

That word dispelled the dream and the pain which had held Joan, leaving
only the tenderness, magnified now a hundredfold.

And that instant when she was locked in Cleve's arms, when the silence
was so beautiful and full, she heard the heavy pound of a gun-butt upon
the table in Kells's room.

"Where is Cleve?" That was the voice of Kells, stern, demanding.

Joan felt a start, a tremor run over Jim. Then he stiffened.

"I can't locate him," replied Red Pearce. "It was the same last night
an' the one before. Cleve jest disappears these nights--about this
time.... Some woman's got him!"

"He goes to bed. Can't you find where he sleeps?"

"No."

"This job's got to go through and he's got to do it."

"Bah!" taunted Pearce. "Gulden swears you can't make Cleve do a job. And
so do I!"

"Go out and yell for Cleve!... Damn you all! I'll show you!"

Then Joan heard the tramp of heavy boots, then a softer tramp on the
ground outside the cabin. Joan waited, holding her breath. She felt
Jim's heart beating. He st