Jim rose out of the shadow and felt for her, clasped her close. Joan
had none of the old thrill; her hands slid loosely round his; and
every second the weight inwardly grew heavier.

"Joan! I had a time waking you," whispered Jim, and then he kissed
her. "Why, you're as cold as ice."

"Jim--I--I must have fainted," she replied.

"What for?" "I was peeping into Kells's cabin, when you--you--"

"Poor kid!" he interrupted, tenderly. "You've had so much to bear! ...
Joan, I fooled Kells. Oh, I was slick! ... He ordered me out on
a job--to kill a miner! Fancy that! And what do you think? I know
Creede well. He's a good fellow. I traded my big nugget for his
gold-belt!"

"You TRADED--you--didn't--kill him!" faltered Joan.

"Hear the child talk!" exclaimed Cleve, with a low laugh.

Joan suddenly clung to him with all her might, quivering in a silent
joy. It had not occurred to Jim what she might have thought.

"Listen," he went on. "I traded my nugget. It was worth a great deal
more than Creede's gold-belt. He knew this. He didn't want to trade.
But I coaxed him. I persuaded him to leave camp--to walk out on the
road to Bannack. To meet the stage somewhere and go on to Bannack,
and stay a few days. He sure was curious. But I kept my secret. ...
Then I came back here, gave the belt to Kells, told him I had