"Sleep well, Dandy Dale," said Kells, cheerfully, yet not without
pathos. "Alder Creek to-morrow! ... Then you'll never sleep again!"
At times she seemed to feel that he regretted her presence, and
always this fancy came to her with mocking or bantering suggestion
that the costume and mask she wore made her a bandit's consort, and
she could not escape the wildness of this gold-seeking life. The
truth was that Kells saw the insuperable barrier between them, and
in the bitterness of his love he lied to himself, and hated himself
for the lie.
About the middle of the afternoon of the next day the tired
cavalcade rode down out of the brush and rock into a new, broad,
dusty road. It was so new that the stems of the cut brush along the
borders were still white. But that road had been traveled by a
multitude.
Out across the valley in the rear Joan saw a canvas-topped wagon,
and she had not ridden far on the road when she saw a bobbing pack-
burros to the fore. Kells had called Wood and Smith and Pearce and
Cleve together, and now they went on in a bunch, all driving the
pack-train. Excitement again claimed Kells; Pearce was alert and
hawk-eyed; Smith looked like a hound on a scent; Cleve showed
genuine feeling. Only Bate Wood remained proof to the meaning of
that broad road.
All along, on either side, Joan saw wrecks of wagons, wheels,
harness, boxes, old rags of tents blown into the brush, dead mules
and burros. It seemed almost as if an army had passed that way.
Presently the road crossed a wide, shallow brook of water, half
clear and half muddy; and on the other side the road followed the
course of the brook. Joan heard Smith call the stream Alder Creek,
and he asked Kells if he knew what muddied water meant. The bandit's
eyes flashed fire. Joan thrilled, for she, too, knew that up-stream
there were miners washing earth for gold.
A couple of miles farther on creek and road entered the mouth of a
wide spruce-timbered gulch. These trees hid any view of the slopes
or floor of the gulch, and it was not till several more miles had
been passed that the bandit rode out into what Joan first thought
was a hideous slash in the forest made by fire. But it was only the
devastation wrought by men. As far as she could see the timber was
down, and everywhere began to be manifested signs that led her to
expect habitations. No cabins showed, however, in the next mile.
They passed out of the timbered part of the gulch into one of
rugged, bare, and stony slopes, with bunches of sparse alder here
and there. The gulch turned at right angles and a great gray slope
shut out sight of what lay beyond. But, once round that obstruction,
Kells halted his men with short, tense exclamation.