ks, and led him into the corral. Then
she fetched a bucket of water and let him drink sparingly, a little at a
time.

Joan did not take her ride that morning. Anxious and curious, she waited
for the return of Kells. But he did not come. All afternoon Joan waited
and watched, and saw no sign of him or any of the other men. She knew
Kells was forging with red-hot iron and blood that organization which
she undesignedly had given a name--the Border Legion. It would be a
terrible legion, of that she was assured. Kells was the evil genius to
create an unparalleled scheme of crime; this wild and remote border,
with its inaccessible fastness for hiding-places, was the place;
all that was wanting was the time, which evidently had arrived. She
remembered how her uncle had always claimed that the Bear Mountain range
would see a gold strike which would disrupt the whole West and amaze the
world. And Blicky had said a big strike had been on for weeks. Kells's
prophecy of the wild life Joan would see had not been without warrant.
She had already seen enough to whiten her hair, she thought, yet she
divined her experience would shrink in comparison with what was to come.
Always she lived in the future. She spent sleeping and waking hours
in dreams, thoughts, actions, broodings, over all of which hung an
ever-present shadow of suspense. When would she meet Jim Cleve again?
When would he recognize her? What would he do? What could she do? Would
Kells be a devil or a man at the end? Was there any justification of her
haunting fear of Gulden--of her suspicion that she alone was the
cause of his attitude toward Kells--of her horror at the unshakable
presentiment and fancy that he was a gorilla and meant to make off with
her? These, and a thousand other fears, some groundless, but many real
and present, besieged Joan and left her little peace. What would happen
next?

Toward sunset she grew tired of waiting, and hungry, besides, so she
went into the cabin and prepared her own meal. About dark Kells strode
in, and it took but a glance for Joan to see that matters had not gone
to his liking. The man seemed to be burning inwardly. Sight of Joan
absolutely surprised him. Evidently in the fever of this momentous hour
he had forgotten his prisoner. Then, whatever his obsession, he looked
like a man whose eyes were gladdened at sight of her and who was sorry
to behold her there. He apologized that her supper had not been
provided for her and expl