Dusk had fallen and lights had begun to accentuate the shadows.  Joan kept close beside Jim, down the slope, and into the road.  She felt like a guilty thing and every passing man or low-conversing group frightened her.  Still she could not help but see that no one noticed her or Jim, and she began to gather courage.  Jim also acquired confidence.  The growing darkness seemed a protection.  The farther up the street they passed, the more men they met.  Again the saloons were in full blast.  Alder Creek had returned to the free, careless tenor of its way.  A few doors this side of the Last Nugget was the office of the stage and express company.  It was a wide tent with the front canvas cut out and a shelf-counter across the opening.  There was a dim, yellow lamplight.  Half a dozen men lounged in front, and inside were several more, two of whom appeared to be armed guards.  Jim addressed no one in particular.

“When does the next stage leave for Bannack?”

A man looked up sharply from the papers that littered a table before him.  “It leaves when we start it,” he replied, curtly.

“Well, when will that be?”

“What’s that to you?” he replied, with a question still more curt.

“I want to buy seats for two.”

“That’s different.  Come in and let’s look you over. ...  Hello! it’s young Cleve.  I didn’t recognize you.  Excuse me.  We’re a little particular these days.”

The man’s face lighted.  Evidently he knew Jim and thought well of him.  This reassured Joan and stilled the furious beating of her heart.  She saw Jim hand over a sack of gold, from which the agent took the amount due for the passage.  Then he returned the sack and whispered something in Jim’s ear.  Jim rejoined her and led her away, pressing her arm close to his side.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, excitedly.  “Stage leaves just before daylight.  It used to leave in the middle of the fore-noon.  But they want a good start to-morrow.”

“They think it might be held up?”

“He didn’t say so.  But there’s every reason to suspect that. ...  Joan, I sure hope it won’t.  Me with all this gold.  Why, I feel as if I weighed a thousand pounds.”

“What’ll we do now?” she inquired.

Jim halted in the middle of the road.  It was quite dark now.  The lights of the camp were flaring; men were passing to and fro; the loose boards on the walks rattled to their tread; the saloons had begun to hum; and there was a discordant blast from the Last Nugget.

“That’s it—­what’ll we do?” he asked in perplexity.

Joan had no idea to advance, but with the lessening of her fear and the gradual clearing of her mind she felt that she would not much longer be witless.

“We’ve got to eat and get some rest,” said Jim, sensibly.

“I’ll try to eat—­but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” replied Joan.