That word dispelled the dream and the pain which had held Joan,
leaving only the tenderness, magnified now a hundredfold.

And that instant when she was locked in Cleve's arms, when the
silence was so beautiful and full, she heard the heavy pound of a
gun-butt upon the table in Kells's room.

"Where is Cleve?" That was the voice of Kells, stern, demanding.

Joan felt a start, a tremor run over Jim. Then he stiffened.

"I can't locate him," replied Red Pearce. "It was the same last
night an' the one before. Cleve jest disappears these nights--about
this time. ... Some woman's got him!"

"He goes to bed. Can't you find where he sleeps?"

"No."

"This job's got to go through and he's got to do it."

"Bah!" taunted Pearce. "Gulden swears you can't make Cleve do a job.
And so do I!"

"Go out and yell for Cleve! ... Damn you all! I'll show you!"

Then Joan heard the tramp of heavy boots, then a softer tramp on the
ground outside the cabin. Joan waited, holding her breath. She felt
Jim's heart beating. He stood like a post. He, like Joan, was
listening, as if for a trumpet of doom.