change? Was he in danger and did he mean to flee from Alder Creek?
Joan found the speculation a relief from that haunting, persistent
thought of Jim Cleve and Gulden. She was eager to learn, still she
hesitated at the door. It was just as hard as ever to face those
men.

But it must be, so with a wrench she stepped out boldly.

Kells looked worn and gray. He had not slept. But his face did not
wear the shade she had come to associate with his gambling and
drinking. Six other men were present, and Joan noted coats and
gloves and weapons and spurs. Kells turned to address her. His face
lighted fleetingly.

"I want you to be ready to ride any minute," he said.

"Why?" asked Joan.

"We may HAVE to, that's all," he replied.

His men, usually so keen when they had a chance to ogle Joan, now
scarcely gave her a glance. They were a dark, grim group, with hard
eyes and tight lips. Handy Oliver was speaking.

"I tell you, Gulden swore he seen Creede--on the road--in the
lamplight--last night AFTER Jim Cleve got here."

"Gulden must have been mistaken," declared Kells, impatiently.

"He ain't the kind to make mistakes," replied Oliver.