Gulden leaned across the table, his massive jaw working.  “I found it on the miner Creede,” replied the giant, stridently.

Then came a nervous shuffling of boots on the creaky boards.  In the silence a low, dull murmur of distant voices could be heard, strangely menacing.  Kells stood transfixed, white as a sheet.

“On Creede!”

“Yes.”

“Where was his—­his body?”

“I left it out on the Bannack trail.”

The bandit leader appeared mute.

“Kells, I followed Creede out of camp last night,” fiercely declared Gulden. ...  “I killed him! ...  I found this nugget on him!”

17

Apparently to Kells that nugget did not accuse Jim Cleve of treachery.  Not only did this possibility seem lost upon the bandit leader, but also the sinister intent of Gulden and his associates.

“Then Jim didn’t kill Creede!” cried Kells.

A strange light flashed across his face.  It fitted the note of gladness in his exclamation.  How strange that in his amaze there should be relief instead of suspicion!  Joan thought she understood Kells.  He was glad that he had not yet made a murderer out of Cleve.

Gulden appeared slow in rejoining.  “I told you I got Creede,” he said.  “And we want to know if this says to you what it says to us.”

His huge, hairy hand tapped the nugget.  Then Kells caught the implication.

“What does it say to you?” he queried, coolly, and he eyed Gulden and then the grim men behind him.

“Somebody in the gang is crooked.  Somebody’s giving you the double-cross.  We’ve known that for long.  Jim Cleve goes out to kill Creede.  He comes in with Creede’s gold-belt—­and a lie! ...  We think Cleve is the crooked one.”

“No!  You’re way off, Gulden,” replied Kells, earnestly.  “That boy is absolutely square.  He’s lied to me about Creede.  But I can excuse that.  He lost his nerve.  He’s only a youngster.  To knife a man in his sleep—­that was too much for Jim! ...  And I’m glad!  I see it all now.  Jim’s swapped his big nugget for Creede’s belt.  And in the bargain he exacted that Creede hit the trail out of camp.  You happened to see Creede and went after him yourself. ...  Well, I don’t see where you’ve any kick coming.  For you’ve ten times the money in Cleve’s nugget that there was in a share of Creede’s gold.”

“That’s not my kick,” declared Gulden.  “What you say about Cleve may be true.  But I don’t believe it.  And the gang is sore.  Things have leaked out.  We’re watched.  We’re not welcome in the gambling-places any more.  Last night I was not allowed to sit in the game at Belcher’s.”

“You think Cleve has squealed?” queried Kells.

“Yes.”

“I’ll bet you every ounce of dust I’ve got that you’re wrong,” declared Kells.  “A straight, square bet against anything you want to put up!”

Kells’s ringing voice was nothing if not convincing.