ed with men. Kells's party encountered Blicky
and Beady Jones together. They passed by as strangers. Then Joan saw
Beard and Chick Williams arm in arm, strolling about, like roystering
miners. Williams telegraphed a keen, fleeting glance at Kells, then went
on, to be lost in the crowd. Handy Oliver brushed by Kells, jostled him,
apparently by accident, and he said, "Excuse me, mister!" There were
other familiar faces. Kells's gang were all in Alder Creek and the dark
machinations of the bandit leader had been put into operation.
What struck Joan forcibly was that, though there were hilarity and
comradeship, they were not manifested in any general way. These miners
were strangers to one another; the groups were strangers; the gamblers
were strangers; the newcomers were strangers; and over all hung an
atmosphere of distrust. Good fellowship abided only in the many small
companies of men who stuck together. The mining-camps that Joan had
visited had been composed of an assortment of prospectors and hunters
who made one big, jolly family. This was a gold strike, and the
difference was obvious. The hunting for gold was one thing, in its
relation to the searchers; after it had been found, in a rich field,
the conditions of life and character changed. Gold had always seemed
wonderful and beautiful to Joan; she absorbed here something that was
the nucleus of hate. Why could not these miners, young and old, stay in
their camps and keep their gold? That was the fatality. The pursuit
was a dream--a glittering allurement; the possession incited a lust for
more, and that was madness. Joan felt that in these reckless, honest
miners there was a liberation of the same wild element which was the
driving passion of Kells's Border Legion. Gold, then, was a terrible
thing.

"Take me in there," said Joan, conscious of her own excitement, and she
indicated the dance-hall.

Kells laughed as if at her audacity. But he appeared reluctant.

"Please take me--unless--" Joan did not know what to add, but she meant
unless it was not right for her to see any more. A strange curiosity
had stirred in her. After all, this place where she now stood was not
greatly different from the picture imagination had conjured up. That
dance-hall, however, was beyond any creation of Joan's mind.

"Let me have a look first," said Kells, and he left Joan with Cleve.

When he had gone Joan spoke without looking at Cleve, though she held
fast to his arm.

"Jim, i