"Jesse Smith's hoss, I swear!" shouted the tall man. "Kells, come
out here!"
Kells appeared, dark and eager, at the door, and nimbly he leaped to
the excited group. Pearce and Wood and others followed.
"What's up?" called the bandit. "Hello! Who's that riding bareback?"
"He's shore cuttin' the wind," said Wood.
"Blicky!" exclaimed the tall man. "Kells, there's news. I seen
Jesse's hoss."
Kells let out a strange, exultant cry. The excited talk among the
men gave place, to a subdued murmur, then subsided. Blicky was
running a horse up the road, hanging low over him, like an Indian.
He clattered to the bench, scattered the men in all directions. The
fiery horse plunged and pounded. Blicky was gray of face and wild of
aspect.
"Jesse's come!" he yelled, hoarsely, at Kells. "He jest fell off his
hoss--all in! He wants you--an' all the gang! He's seen a million
dollars in gold-dust!"
Absolute silence ensued after that last swift and startling speech.
It broke to a commingling of yells and shouts. Blicky wheeled his
horse and Kells started on a run. And there was a stampede and rush
after him.
Joan grasped her opportunity. She had seen all this excitement, but
she had not lost sight of Cleve. He got up from a log and started
after the others. Joan flew to him, grasped him, startled him with
the suddenness of her onslaught. But her tongue seemed cloven to the
roof of her mouth, her lips weak and mute. Twice she strove to
speak.
"Meet me--there!--among the pines--right away!" she whispered, with
breathless earnestness. "It's life--or death--for me!"
As she released his arm he snatched at her mask. But she eluded him.
"Who ARE you?" he flashed.
Kells and his men were piling into the willows, leaping the brook,
hurrying on. They had no thought but to get to Jesse Smith to hear
of the gold strike. That news to them was as finding gold in the
earth was to honest miners.
"Come!" cried Joan. She hurried away toward the corner of the cabin,
then halted to see if he was following. He was, indeed. She ran
round behind the cabin, out on the slope, halting at the first
trees. Cleve came striding after her. She ran on, beginning to pant
and stumble. The way he strode, the white grimness of him,
frightened her. What would he, do? Again she went on, but not
running now. There were straggling pines and spruces that soon hid
the cabins. Beyond, a few rods, was a dense clump of pines, and she
made for that. As she reached it she turned fearfully. Only Cleve
was in sight. She uttered a sob of mingled relief, joy, and
thankfulness. She and Cleve had not been observed. They would be out
of sight in this little pine grove. At last! She could reveal
herself, tell him why she was there, that she loved him, that she
was as good as ever she had been. Why was she shaking like a leaf in
the wind? She saw Cleve through a blur. He was almost running now.
Involuntarily she fled into the grove. It was dark and cool; it
smelled sweetly of pine; there were narrow aisles and little sunlit
glades. She hurried on till a fallen tree blocked her passage. Here
she turned--she would wait--the tree was good to lean against. There
came Cleve, a dark, stalking shadow. She did not remember him like
that. He entered the glade.