"Yes. I was trailing Jim when I saw you," she replied. "Thought you
were Jim."
"Trailin' Jim! What's up?"
"We quarreled. He swore he was going to the devil. Over on the
border! I was mad and told him to go. ... But I'm sorry now--and
have been trying to catch up with him."
"Ahuh! ... So that's Jim's trail. I sure was wonderin'. Joan, it
turns off a few miles back an' takes the trail for the border. I
know. I've been in there."
Joan glanced up sharply at Roberts. His scarred and grizzled face
seemed grave and he avoided her gaze.
"You don't believe--Jim'll really go?" she asked, hurriedly.
"Reckon I do, Joan," he replied, after a pause. "Jim is just fool
enough. He had been gettrn' recklessler lately. An', Joan, the times
ain't provocatin' a young feller to be good. Jim had a bad fight the
other night. He about half killed young Bradley. But I reckon you
know."
"I've heard nothing," she replied. "Tell me. Why did they fight?"
"Report was that Bradley talked oncomplementary about you."
Joan experienced a sweet, warm rush of blood--another new and
strange emotion. She did not like Bradley. He had been persistent
and offensive.
"Why didn't Jim tell me?" she queried, half to herself.
"Reckon he wasn't proud of the shape he left Bradley in," replied
Roberts, with a laugh. "Come on, Joan, an' make back tracks for
home."
Joan was silent a moment while she looked over the undulating green
ridges toward the great gray and black walls. Something stirred deep
within her. Her father in his youth had been an adventurer. She felt
the thrill and the call of her blood. And she had been unjust to a
man who loved her.
"I'm going after him," she said.
Roberts did not show any surprise. He looked at the position of the
sun. "Reckon we might overtake him an' get home before sundown," he
said, laconically, as he turned his horse. "We'll make a short cut
across here a few miles, an' strike his trail. Can't miss it."
Then he set off at a brisk trot and Joan fell in behind. She had a
busy mind, and it was a sign of her preoccupation that she forgot to
thank Roberts. Presently they struck into a valley, a narrow
depression between the foothills and the ridges, and here they made
faster time. The valley appeared miles long. Toward the middle of it
Roberts called out to Joan, and, looking down, she saw they had come
up with Jim's trail. Here Roberts put his mount to a canter, and at
that gait they trailed Jim out of the valley and up a slope which
appeared to be a pass into the mountains. Time flew by for Joan,
because she was always peering ahead in the hope and expectation of
seeing Jim off in the distance. But she had no glimpse of him. Now
and then Roberts would glance around at the westering sun. The
afternoon had far advanced. Joan began to worry about home. She had
been so sure of coming up with Jim and returning early in the day
that she had left no word as to her intentions. Probably by this
time somebody was out looking for her.