"Yes. I was trailing Jim when I saw you," she replied. "Thought you

were Jim."

"Trailin' Jim! What's up?"

"We quarreled. He swore he was going to the devil. Over on the

border! I was mad and told him to go. ... But I'm sorry now--and

have been trying to catch up with him."

"Ahuh! ... So that's Jim's trail. I sure was wonderin'. Joan, it

turns off a few miles back an' takes the trail for the border. I

know. I've been in there."

Joan glanced up sharply at Roberts. His scarred and grizzled face

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seemed grave and he avoided her gaze.

"You don't believe--Jim'll really go?" she asked, hurriedly.

"Reckon I do, Joan," he replied, after a pause. "Jim is just fool

enough. He had been gettrn' recklessler lately. An', Joan, the times

ain't provocatin' a young feller to be good. Jim had a bad fight the

other night. He about half killed young Bradley. But I reckon you

know."

"I've heard nothing," she replied. "Tell me. Why did they fight?"

"Report was that Bradley talked oncomplementary about you."

Joan experienced a sweet, warm rush of blood--another new and

strange emotion. She did not like Bradley. He had been persistent

and offensive.

"Why didn't Jim tell me?" she queried, half to herself.

"Reckon he wasn't proud of the shape he left Bradley in," replied

Roberts, with a laugh. "Come on, Joan, an' make back tracks for

home."

Joan was silent a moment while she looked over the undulating green

ridges toward the great gray and black walls. Something stirred deep

within her. Her father in his youth had been an adventurer. She felt

the thrill and the call of her blood. And she had been unjust to a

man who loved her.

"I'm going after him," she said.

Roberts did not show any surprise. He looked at the position of the

sun. "Reckon we might overtake him an' get home before sundown," he

said, laconically, as he turned his horse. "We'll make a short cut

across here a few miles, an' strike his trail. Can't miss it."

Then he set off at a brisk trot and Joan fell in behind. She had a

busy mind, and it was a sign of her preoccupation that she forgot to

thank Roberts. Presently they struck into a valley, a narrow

depression between the foothills and the ridges, and here they made

faster time. The valley appeared miles long. Toward the middle of it

Roberts called out to Joan, and, looking down, she saw they had come

up with Jim's trail. Here Roberts put his mount to a canter, and at

that gait they trailed Jim out of the valley and up a slope which

appeared to be a pass into the mountains. Time flew by for Joan,

because she was always peering ahead in the hope and expectation of

seeing Jim off in the distance. But she had no glimpse of him. Now

and then Roberts would glance around at the westering sun. The

afternoon had far advanced. Joan began to worry about home. She had

been so sure of coming up with Jim and returning early in the day

that she had left no word as to her intentions. Probably by this

time somebody was out looking for her.




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