"Much obliged," muttered Roberts.

"I'll bunk by the fire," went on the other, and with that he sat
down and appeared to become absorbed in thought.

Roberts brought the borrowed blanket and several saddle-blankets
over to where Joan was, and laying them down he began to kick and
scrape stones and brush aside.

"Pretty rocky place, this here is," he said. "Reckon you'll sleep
some, though."

Then he began arranging the blankets into a bed. Presently Joan felt
a tug at her riding-skirt. She looked down.

"I'll be right by you," he whispered, with his big hand to his
mouth, "an' I ain't a-goin' to sleep none."

Whereupon he returned to the camp-fire. Presently Joan, not because
she was tired or sleepy, but because she wanted to act naturally,
lay down on the bed and pulled a blanket up over her. There was no
more talking among the men. Once she heard the jingle of spurs and
the rustle of cedar brush. By and by Roberts came back to her,
dragging his saddle, and lay down near her. Joan raised up a little
to see Kells motionless and absorbed by the fire. He had a strained
and tense position. She sank back softly and looked up at the cold
bright stars. What was going to happen to her? Something terrible!
The very night shadows, the silence, the presence of strange men,
all told her. And a shudder that was a thrill ran over and over her.