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Savage, wild-eyed men fought to get into the circle whence that shot had come. They broke into it, but did not know then whom to attack or what to do. And the rushing of the frenzied miners all around soon disintegrated Kells's band and bore its several groups in every direction. There was not another shot fired. Joan was dragged and crushed in the melee.
Kells's radiance fled, leaving him ghastly. He stared at Oliver. "You've double-crossed yourself an' your pards," went on Oliver, pathetically. "What's your word amount to? Do you expect the gang to stand for this?... There lays Red Pearce dead. An' for what? Jest once relyin' on your oath he speaks out what might have showed you.
Budd bent low to see the cards in Kells's hand, and then, straightening his form, he gazed with haggard fury at the winner. "You've done me!... I'm cleaned I'm busted!" he raved. "You were easy. Get out of the game," replied Kells, with an exultant contempt. It was not the passion of play that now obsessed him, but the passion of success. "I said you done me," burst out Budd, insanely.
It was not conscience, nor a burden: it might be a projection, a plan, an absorbing scheme, a something that gained food with thought. Joan wondered doubtfully if it were the ransom of gold he expected to get. Presently, when all was about in readiness for a fresh start, she rose to her feet. Kells's bay was not tractable at the moment. Bill held out Joan's bridle to her and their hands touched.
Suggestion alone would have drawn her then and Kells's passionate force was hypnotic. "Yes," she whispered. He appeared to control a developing paroxysm of rage. "That settles you," he declared darkly. "But I'll do one more decent thing by you. I'll marry you." Then he wheeled to his men. "Blicky, there's a parson down in camp. Go on the run. Fetch him back if you have to push him with a gun."
But he did not come to Kells's cabin, which fact, Joan gathered, had made Kells anxious. He did not want to lose Cleve. Joan peered from her covert in the evenings, and watched for Jim, and grew weary of the loud talk and laughter, the gambling and smoking and drinking. When there seemed no more chance of Cleve's coming, then Joan went to bed.
He manifested interest in the gambling of the players by surly grunts. Presently he said something to Kells. "What?" queried the bandit, sharply, wheeling, the better to see Gulden. The noise subsided. One gamester laughed knowingly. "Lend me a sack of dust?" asked Gulden. Kells's face showed amaze and then a sudden brightness. "What! You want gold from me?" "Yes. I'll pay it back."
So far as Joan could tell, Gulden never cast his eyes in her direction. That was a difference which left cause for reflection. Had that hulk of brawn and bone begun to think? Bate Wood's overtures to Joan were rough, but inexplicable to her because she dared not wholly trust him. "An' shore, miss," he had concluded, in a hoarse whisper, "we-all know you ain't Kells's wife.
There were desperados whose glittering eyes showed they had no gold with which to gamble. Joan suddenly felt Kells start and she believed she heard a low, hissing exclamation. And she looked for the cause. Then she saw familiar dark faces; they belonged to men of Kells's Legion. And with his broad back to her there sat the giant Gulden.
Were they not in peril enough without Jim's finding a fortune? How dark and significant had been Kells's hint! There was something splendid in the bandit. Never had Joan felt so grateful to him. He was a villain, yet he was a man. What hatred he showed for Gulden! These rivals would surely meet in a terrible conflict for power for gold.
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