the meal enjoyed. Both the food and the friendliness had good effect
upon Jim Cleve. He ceased to listen all the time and to glance furtively
out at every footstep.

"Joan, I guess it'll turn out all right," he said, clasping her hand
as it rested upon the table. Suddenly he looked bright-eyed and shy. He
leaned toward her. "Do you remember--we are married?" he whispered.

Joan was startled. "Of course," she replied hastily. But had she
forgotten?

"You're my wife."

Joan looked at him and felt her nerves begin to tingle. A soft, warm
wave stole over her.

Like a boy he laughed. "This was our first meal together--on our
honeymoon!"

"Jim!" The blood burned in Joan's face.

"There you sit--you beautiful... But you're not a girl now. You're Dandy
Dale."

"Don't call me that!" exclaimed Joan.

"But I shall--always. We'll keep that bandit suit always. You can dress
up sometimes to show off--to make me remember--to scare the--the kids--"

"Jim Cleve!"

"Oh, Joan, I'm afraid to be happy. But I can't help it. We're going to
get away. You belong to me. And I've sacks and sacks of gold-dust. Lord!
I've no idea how much! But you can never spend all the money. Isn't it
just like a dream?"

Joan smiled through tears, and failed trying to look severe.

"Get me and the gold away--safe--before you crow," she said.

That sobered him. He led her out again into the dark street with its
dark forms crossing to and fro before the lights.

"It's a long time before morning. Where can I take you--so you can sleep
a little?" he muttered.

"Find a place where we can sit down and wait," she suggested.

"No." He pondered a moment. "I guess there's no risk."

Then he led her up the street and through that end of camp out upon the
rough, open slope. They began to climb. The stars were bright, but even
so Joan stumbled often over the stones. She wondered how Jim could get
along so well in the dark and she clung to his arm. They did not speak
often, and then only in whispers. Jim halted occasionally to listen or
to look up at the bold, black bluff for his bearings. Presently he led
her among broken fragments of cliff, and half carried her over rougher
ground, into a kind of shadowy pocket or niche.

"Here's where I slept," he whispered.

He wrapped a blanket round her, and then they sat down against the rock,
and she leaned upon his shoulder.

"I have your coat and the blanket, too," she said. "Won't you be cold?"

He laug