Below the Last Nugget she crossed the road and started upon the

return trip. In front of this gambling-hell there were scattered

groups of men, standing, and going in. A tall man in black detached

himself and started out, as if to intercept her. He wore a long

black coat, a black bow tie, and a black sombrero. He had little,

hard, piercing eyes, as black as his dress. He wore gloves and

looked immaculate, compared with the other men. He, too, spoke to

Joan, turned to walk with her. She looked straight ahead now,

frightened, and she wanted to run. He kept beside her, apparently

talking. Joan heard only the low sound of his voice. Then he took

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her arm, gently, but with familiarity. Joan broke from him and

quickened her pace.

"Say, there! Leave thet girl alone!"

This must have been yelled, for Joan certainly heard it. She

recognized Red Pearce's voice. And she wheeled to look. Pearce had

overhauled the gambler, and already men were approaching.

Involuntarily Joan halted. What would happen? The gambler spoke to

Pearce, made what appeared deprecating gestures, as if to explain.

But Pearce looked angry.

"I'll tell her daddy!" he shouted.

Joan waited for no more. She almost ran. There would surely be a

fight. Could that have been Kells's intention? Whatever it was, she

had been subjected to a mortifying and embarrassing affront. She was

angry, and she thought it might be just as well to pretend to be

furious. Kells must not use her for his nefarious schemes. She

hurried on, and, to her surprise, when she got within sight of the

cabin both Pearce and Smith had almost caught up with her. Jim Cleve

sat where she had last seen him. Also Kells was outside. The way he

strode to and fro showed Joan his anxiety. There was more to this

incident than she could fathom. She took the padding from her ears,

to her intense relief, and, soon reaching the cabin, she tore off

the veil and confronted Kells.

"Wasn't that a--a fine thing for you to do?" she demanded,

furiously. And with the outburst she felt her face blazing. "If I'd

any idea what you meant--you couldn't--have driven me! ... I trusted

you. And you sent me down there on some--shameful errand of yours.

You're no gentleman!"

Joan realized that her speech, especially the latter part, was

absurd. But it had a remarkable effect upon Kells. His face actually

turned red. He stammered something and halted, seemingly at a loss

for words. How singularly the slightest hint of any act or word of

hers that approached a possible respect or tolerance worked upon

this bandit! He started toward Joan appealingly, but she passed him

in contempt and went to her room. She heard him cursing Pearce in a

rage, evidently blaming his lieutenant for whatever had angered her.




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