this portent of calamity.

Next morning Joan awaited Kells, as was her custom, but he did not
appear. This was the third time in a week that he had forgotten or
avoided her or had been prevented from seeing her. Joan was glad,
yet the fact was not reassuring. The issue for Kells was growing
from trouble to disaster.

Early in the afternoon she heard Kells returning from camp. He had
men with him. They conversed in low, earnest tones. Joan was about
to spy up on them when Kells's step approached her door. He rapped
and spoke:

"Put on Dandy Dale's suit and mask, and come out here," he said.

The tone of his voice as much as the content of his words startled
Joan so that she did not at once reply.

"Do you hear?" he called, sharply.

"Yes," replied Joan.

Then he went back to his men, and the low, earnest conversation was
renewed.

Reluctantly Joan took down Dandy Dale's things from the pegs, and
with a recurring shame she divested herself of part of her clothes
and donned the suit and boots and mask and gun. Her spirit rose,
however, at the thought that this would be a disguise calculated to
aid her in the escape with Cleve. But why had Kells ordered the