"But you wanted her insulted!" protested Pearce, hotly.
"You mullet-head!" roared Kells. "I wanted some man--any man--to get
just near enough to her so I could swear she'd been insulted. You
let her go through that camp to meet real insult! ... Why--! Pearce,
I've a mind to shoot you!"
"Shoot!" retorted Pearce. "I obeyed orders as I saw them. ... An' I
want to say right here thet when it comes to anythin' concernin'
this girl you're plumb off your nut. That's what. An' you can like
it or lump it! I said before you'd split over this girl. An' I say
it now!"
Through the door Joan had a glimpse of Cleve stepping between the
angry men. This seemed unnecessary, however, for Pearce's stinging
assertion had brought Kells to himself. There were a few more words,
too low for Joan's ears, and then, accompanied by Smith, the three
started off, evidently for the camp. Joan left her room and watched
them from the cabin door. Bate Wood sat outside smoking.
"I'm declarin' my hand," he said to Joan, feelingly. "I'd never hev
stood for thet scurvy trick. Now, miss, this's the toughest camp I
ever seen. I mean tough as to wimmen! For it ain't begun to fan guns
an' steal gold yet."
"Why did Kells want me insulted?" asked Joan.
"Wal, he's got to hev a reason for raisin' an orful fuss," replied
Wood.
"Fuss?"
"Shore," replied Wood, dryly.
"What for?"
"Jest so he can walk out on the stage," rejoined Wood, evasively.
"It's mighty strange," said Joan.
"I reckon all about Mr. Kells is some strange these days. Red Pearce
had it correct. Kells is a-goin' to split on you!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Wal, he'll go one way an' the gang another."
"Why?" asked Joan, earnestly.
"Miss, there's some lot of reasons," said Wood, deliberately. "Fust,
he did for Halloway an' Bailey, not because they wanted to treat you
as he meant to, but just because he wanted to be alone. We're all
wise thet you shot him--an' thet you wasn't his wife. An' since then
we've seen him gradually lose his nerve. He organized his Legion an'
makes his plan to run this Alder Creek red. He still hangs on to
you. He'd kill any man thet batted an eye at you. ... An' through
all this, because he's not Jack Kells of old, he's lost his pull
with the gang. Sooner or later he'll split."