Locate the tent. It stands at the head of a little wash and there's
a bleached pine-tree right by the tent. To-morrow night as soon as
it gets dark crawl up this wash--be careful--wait till the right
time--then finish the job quick!"

"How--finish--it?" asked Cleve, hoarsely.

Kells was scintillating now, steely, cold, radiant. He had forgotten
the man before him in the prospect of the gold.

"Creede's cot is on the side of the tent opposite the tree. You
won't have to go inside. Slit the canvas. It's a rotten old tent.
Kill Creede with your knife. ... Get his belt. ... Be bold,
cautious, swift! That's your job. Now what do you say?"

"All right," responded Cleve, somberly, and with a heavy tread he
left the room.

After Jim had gone Joan still watched and listened. She was in
distress over his unfortunate situation, but she had no fear that he
meant to carry out Kells's plan. This was a critical time for Jim,
and therefore for her. She had no idea what Jim could do; all she
thought was what he would not do.

Kells gazed triumphantly at Pearce. "I told you the youngster would
stand by me. I never put him on a job before."

"Reckon I figgered wrong, boss," replied Pearce.

"He looked sick to me, but game," said Handy Oliver. "Kells is