hurried on, and, to her surprise, when she got within sight of the
cabin both Pearce and Smith had almost caught up with her. Jim Cleve
sat where she had last seen him. Also Kells was outside. The way he
strode to and fro showed Joan his anxiety. There was more to this
incident than she could fathom. She took the padding from her ears,
to her intense relief, and, soon reaching the cabin, she tore off
the veil and confronted Kells.

"Wasn't that a--a fine thing for you to do?" she demanded,
furiously. And with the outburst she felt her face blazing. "If I'd
any idea what you meant--you couldn't--have driven me! ... I trusted
you. And you sent me down there on some--shameful errand of yours.
You're no gentleman!"

Joan realized that her speech, especially the latter part, was
absurd. But it had a remarkable effect upon Kells. His face actually
turned red. He stammered something and halted, seemingly at a loss
for words. How singularly the slightest hint of any act or word of
hers that approached a possible respect or tolerance worked upon
this bandit! He started toward Joan appealingly, but she passed him
in contempt and went to her room. She heard him cursing Pearce in a
rage, evidently blaming his lieutenant for whatever had angered her.

"But you wanted her insulted!" protested Pearce, hotly.

"You mullet-head!" roared Kells. "I wanted some man--any man--to get
just near enough to her so I could swear she'd been insulted. You
let her go through that camp to meet real insult! ... Why--! Pearce,
I've a mind to shoot you!"