Night settled down black. A pale, narrow cloud, marked by a train of

stars, extended across the dense blue sky. The wind moaned in the

cedars and roared in the replenished camp-fire. Sparks flew away

into the shadows. And on the puffs of smoke that blew toward her

came the sweet, pungent odor of burning cedar. Coyotes barked off

under the brush, and from away on the ridge drifted the dismal

defiance of a wolf.

Camp-life was no new thing to Joan. She had crossed the plains in a

wagon-train, that more than once had known the long-drawn yell of

hostile Indians. She had prospected and hunted in the mountains with

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her uncle, weeks at a time. But never before this night had the

wildness, the loneliness, been so vivid to her.

Roberts was on his knees, scouring his oven with wet sand. His big,

shaggy head nodded in the firelight. He seemed pondering and thick

and slow. There was a burden upon him. The man Bill and his

companion lay back against stones and conversed low. Kells stood up

in the light of the blaze. He had a pipe at which he took long pulls

and then sent up clouds of smoke. There was nothing imposing in his

build or striking in his face, at that distance; but it took no

second look to see here was a man remarkably out of the ordinary.

Some kind of power and intensity emanated from him. From time to

time he appeared to glance in Joan's direction; still, she could not

be sure, for his eyes were but shadows. He had cast aside his coat.

He wore a vest open all the way, and a checked soft shirt, with a

black tie hanging untidily. A broad belt swung below his hip and in

the holster was a heavy gun. That was a strange place to carry a

gun, Joan thought. It looked awkward to her. When he walked it might

swing round and bump against his leg. And he certainly would have to

put it some other place when he rode.

"Say, have you got a blanket for that girl?" asked Kells, removing

his pipe from his lips to address Roberts.

"I got saddle-blankets," responded Roberts. "You see, we didn't

expect to be caught out."

"I'll let you have one," said Kells, walking away from the fire. "It

will be cold." He returned with a blanket, which he threw to

Roberts.

"Much obliged," muttered Roberts.

"I'll bunk by the fire," went on the other, and with that he sat

down and appeared to become absorbed in thought.




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