"Good morning," she said, brightly.
Kells had his back turned at the moment. He did not move or speak or
give any sign he had heard. The man Bill stared boldly at her, but
without a word. Roberts returned her greeting, and as she glanced
quickly at him, drawn by his voice, he turned away. But she had seen
that his face was dark, haggard, worn.
Joan's cheer and hope sustained a sudden and violent check. There
was something wrong in this group, and she could not guess what it
was. She seemed to have a queer, dragging weight at her limbs. She
was glad to move over to a stone and sink down upon it. Roberts
brought her breakfast, but he did not speak or look at her. His
hands shook. And this frightened Joan. What was going to happen?
Roberts went back to the camp-fire. Joan had to force herself to
eat. There was one thing of which she was sure--that she would need
all the strength and fortitude she could summon.
Joan became aware, presently, that Kells was conversing with
Roberts, but too low for her to hear what was said. She saw Roberts
make a gesture of fierce protest. About the other man there was an
air cool, persuading, dominant. He ceased speaking, as if the
incident were closed. Roberts hurried and blundered through his task
with his pack and went for his horse. The animal limped slightly,
but evidently was not in bad shape. Roberts saddled him, tied on the
pack. Then he saddled Joan's horse. That done, he squared around
with the front of a man who had to face something he dreaded.
"Come on, Joan. We're ready," he called. His voice was loud, but not
natural.
Joan started to cross to him when Kells strode between them. She
might not have been there, for all the sign this ominous man gave of
her presence. He confronted Roberts in the middle of the camp-
circle, and halted, perhaps a rod distant.
"Roberts, get on your horse and clear out," he said.
Roberts dropped his halter and straightened up. It was a bolder
action than any he had heretofore given. Perhaps the mask was off
now; he was wholly sure of what he had only feared; subterfuge and
blindness were in vain; and now he could be a man. Some change
worked in his face--a blanching, a setting.
"No, I won't go without the girl," he said.
"But you can't take her!"
Joan vibrated to a sudden start. So this was what was going to
happen. Her heart almost stood still. Breathless and quivering, she
watched these two men, about whom now all was strangely magnified.