So have all the men. And, to come to the point, they all think
you're crooked because you're honest!"

"I don't understand," replied Cleve, slowly.

"Jim, you rode into Cabin Gulch, and you raised some trouble. But
you were no bandit. You joined my Legion, but you've never become a
bandit. Here you've been an honest miner. That suited my plan and it
helped. But it's got so it doesn't suit my men. You work every day
hard. You've struck it rich. You're well thought of in Alder Creek.
You've never done a dishonest thing. Why, you wouldn't turn a
crooked trick in a card game for a sack full of gold. This has hurt
you with my men. They can't see as I see, that you're as square as
you are game. They see you're an honest miner. They believe you've
got into a clique--that you've given us away. I don't blame Pearce
or any of my men. This is a time when men's intelligence, if they
have any, doesn't operate. Their brains are on fire. They see gold
and whisky and blood, and they feel gold and whisky and blood.
That's all. I'm glad that the gang gives you the benefit of a doubt
and a chance to stand by me."

"A chance!"

"Yes. They've worked out a job for you alone. Will you undertake
it?"

"I'll have to," replied Cleve.

"You certainly will if you want the gang to justify my faith in you.
Once you pull off a crooked deal, they'll switch and swear by you.