w she used to sing the
simple songs she knew. She could not disguise that voice. But she need
not let Jim hear it. Then there was a return of the idea that he would
instinctively recognize her--that no disguise could be proof to a lover
who had ruined himself for her. Suddenly she realized how futile all
her worry and shame. Sooner or later she must reveal her identity to Jim
Cleve. Out of all this complexity of emotion Joan divined that what
she yearned most for was to spare Cleve the shame consequent upon
recognition of her and then the agony he must suffer at a false
conception of her presence there. It was a weakness in her. When death
menaced her lover and the most inconceivably horrible situation yawned
for her, still she could only think of her passionate yearning to have
him know, all in a flash, that she loved him, that she had followed him
in remorse, that she was true to him and would die before being anything
else.

And when she left her cabin she was in a mood to force an issue.

Kells was sitting at the table and being served by Bate Wood.

"Hello, Dandy!" he greeted her, in surprise and pleasure. "This's early
for you."

Joan returned his greeting and said that she could not sleep all the
time.

"You're coming round. I'll bet you hold up a stage before a month is
out."

"Hold up a stage?" echoed Joan.

"Sure. It'll be great fun," replied Kells, with a laugh. "Here--sit down
and eat with me.... Bate, come along lively with breakfast.... It's
fine to see you there. That mask changes you, though. No one can see how
pretty you are.... Joan, your admirer, Gulden, has been incapacitated
for the present."

Then in evident satisfaction Kells repeated the story that Joan had
heard Red Pearce tell the night before; and in the telling Kells
enlarged somewhat upon Jim Cleve.

"I've taken a liking to Cleve," said Kells. "He's a strange youngster.
But he's more man than boy. I think he's broken-hearted over some rotten
girl who's been faithless or something. Most women are no good, Joan. A
while ago I'd have said ALL women were that, but since I've known you I
think--I know different. Still, one girl out of a million doesn't change
a world."

"What will this J--jim C--cleve do--when he sees--me?" asked Joan, and
she choked over the name.

"Don't eat so fast, girl," said Kells. "You're only seventeen years old
and you've plenty of time.... Well, I've thought some about Cleve.
He's not crazy like Gulden,