“You traded—­you—­didn’t—­kill him!” faltered Joan.

“Hear the child talk!” exclaimed Cleve, with a low laugh.

Joan suddenly clung to him with all her might, quivering in a silent joy.  It had not occurred to Jim what she might have thought.

“Listen,” he went on.  “I traded my nugget.  It was worth a great deal more than Creede’s gold-belt.  He knew this.  He didn’t want to trade.  But I coaxed him.  I persuaded him to leave camp—­to walk out on the road to Bannack.  To meet the stage somewhere and go on to Bannack, and stay a few days.  He sure was curious.  But I kept my secret. ...  Then I came back here, gave the belt to Kells, told him I had followed Creede in the dark, had killed him and slid him into a deep hole in the creek. ...  Kells and Pearce—­none of them paid any attention to my story.  I had the gold-belt.  That was enough.  Gold talks—­fills the ears of these bandits. ...  I have my share of Creede’s gold-dust in my pocket.  Isn’t that funny?  Alas for my—­your big nugget!  But we’ve got to play the game.  Besides, I’ve sacks and cans of gold hidden away.  Joan, what’ll we do with it all?  You’re my wife now.  And, oh!  If we can only get away with it you’ll be rich!”

Joan could not share his happiness any more than she could understand his spirit.  She remembered.

“Jim—­dear—­did Kells tell you what your—­next job was to be?” she whispered, haltingly.

Cleve swore under his breath, but loud enough to make Joan swiftly put her hand over his lips and caution him.

“Joan, did you hear that about Gulden?” he asked.

“Oh yes.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to tell you.  Yes, I’ve got my second job.  And this one I can’t shirk or twist around.”

Joan held to him convulsively.  She could scarcely speak.

“Girl, don’t lose your nerve!” he said, sternly.  “When you married me you made me a man.  I’ll play my end of the game.  Don’t fear for me.  You plan when we can risk escape.  I’ll obey you to the word.”

“But Jim—­oh, Jim!” she moaned.  “You’re as wild as these bandits.  You can’t see your danger. ...  That terrible Gulden! ...  You don’t mean to meet him—­fight him? ...  Say you won’t!”

“Joan, I’ll meet him—­and I’ll kill him,” whispered Jim, with a piercing intensity.  “You never knew I was swift with a gun.  Well, I didn’t, either, till I struck the border.  I know now.  Kells is the only man I’ve seen who can throw a gun quicker than I. Gulden is a big bull.  He’s slow.  I’ll get into a card-game with him—­I’ll quarrel over gold—­I’ll smash him as I did once before—­and this time I won’t shoot off his ear.  I’ve my nerve now.  Kells swore he’d do anything for me if I stand by him now.  I will.  You never can tell.  Kells is losing his grip.  And my standing by him may save you.”

Joan drew a deep breath.  Jim Cleve had indeed come into manhood.  She crushed down her womanish fears and rose dauntless to the occasion.  She would never weaken him by a lack of confidence.