Joan knew that if Pearce did have the proof which would implicate her he would never live to tell it.

“Cleve—­I don’t—­know nothin’,” choked out Pearce.  “I jest figgered —­it was a woman!”

Cleve slowly lowered the gun and stepped back.  Evidently that satisfied him.  But Joan had an intuitive feeling that Pearce lied.

“You want to be careful how you talk about me,” said Cleve.

Kells purled out a suspended breath and he flung the sweat from his brow.  There was about him, perhaps more than the others, a dark realization of how close the call had been for Pearce.

“Jim, you’re not drunk?”

“No.”

“But you’re sore?”

“Sure I’m sore.  Pearce put me in bad with you, didn’t he?”

“No.  You misunderstood me.  Red hasn’t a thing against you.  And neither he nor anybody else could put you in bad with me.”

“All right.  Maybe I was hasty.  But I’m not wasting time these days,” replied Cleve.  “I’ve no hard feelings. ...  Pearce, do you want to shake hands—­or hold that against me?”

“He’ll shake, of course,” said Kells.

Pearce extended his hand, but with a bad grace.  He was dominated.  This affront of Cleve’s would rankle in him.

“Kells, what do you want with me?” demanded Cleve.

A change passed over Kells, and Joan could not tell just what it was, but somehow it seemed to suggest a weaker man.

“Jim, you’ve been a great card for me,” began Kells, impressively.  “You’ve helped my game—­and twice you saved my life.  I think a lot of you. ...  If you stand by me now I swear I’ll return the trick some day. ...  Will you stand by me?”

“Yes,” replied Cleve, steadily, but he grew pale.  “What’s the trouble?”

“By—­, it’s bad enough!” exclaimed Kells, and as he spoke the shade deepened in his haggard face.  “Gulden has split my Legion.  He has drawn away more than half my men.  They have been drunk and crazy ever since.  They’ve taken things into their own hands.  You see the result as well as I. That camp down there is fire and brimstone.  Some one of that drunken gang has talked.  We’re none of us safe any more.  I see suspicion everywhere.  I’ve urged getting a big stake and then hitting the trail for the border.  But not a man sticks to me in that.  They all want the free, easy, wild life of this gold-camp.  So we’re anchored till—­till ...  But maybe it’s not too late.  Pearce, Oliver, Smith—­all the best of my Legion—­profess loyalty to me.  If we all pull together maybe we can win yet.  But they’ve threatened to split, too.  And it’s all on your account!”

“Mine?” ejaculated Cleve.

“Yes.  Now it’s nothing to make you flash your gun.  Remember you said you’d stand by me. ...  Jim, the fact is—­all the gang to a man believe you’re double-crossing me!”

“In what way?” queried Cleve, blanching.

“They think you’re the one who has talked.  They blame you for the suspicion that’s growing.”