lynching must have thrown
a scare into Overland. He had nerve enough to try to send his dust to
Bannack on the very next stage. He nearly got away with it, too. For it
was only lucky accident that Handy heard the news."

The name Overland drew Joan like a magnet and she arose to take her old
position, where she could peep in upon the bandits. One glance at Jim
Cleve told her that he, too, had been excited by the name. Then it
occurred to Joan that her uncle could hardly have been at Alder Creek
without Jim knowing it. Still, among thousands of men, all wild and
toiling and self-sufficient, hiding their identities, anything might be
possible. After a few moments, however, Joan leaned to the improbability
of the man being her uncle.

Kells sat down before the table and Blicky stood beside him with the
gold-scales. The other bandits lined up opposite. Jim Cleve stood to one
side, watching, brooding.

"You can't weigh it all on these scales," said Blicky.

"That's sure," replied Kells. "We'll divide the small bags first.... Ten
shares--ten equal parts!... Spill out the bags. Blick. And hurry. Look
how hungry Gulden looks!... Somebody cook your breakfast while we divide
the gold."

"Haw! Haw!"

"Ho! Ho!"

"Who wants to eat?"

The bandits were gay, derisive, scornful, eager, like a group of boys,
half surly, half playful, at a game.

"Wal, I shore want to see my share weighted," drawled Budd.

Kells moved--his gun flashed--he slammed it hard upon the table.

"Budd, do you question my honesty?" he asked, quick and hard.

"No offense, boss. I was just talkin'."

That quick change of Kells's marked a subtle difference in the spirit of
the bandits and the occasion. Gaiety and good humor and badinage ended.
There were no more broad grins or friendly leers or coarse laughs.
Gulden and his groups clustered closer to the table, quiet, intense,
watchful, suspicious.

It did not take Kells and his assistant long to divide the smaller
quantity of the gold.

"Here, Gulden," he said, and handed the giant a bag. Jesse....
Bossert.... Pike.... Beady.... Braverman... "Blicky."

"Here, Jim Cleve, get in the game," he added, throwing a bag at Jim. It
was heavy. It hit Jim with a thud and dropped to the ground. He stooped
to reach it.

"That leaves one for Handy and one for me," went on Kells. "Blicky,
spill out the big bag."

Presently Joan saw a huge mound of dull, gleaming yellow. The color of
it leaped to the glint