and wash her hands, the men still, apparently, took no notice of
her. She began to hope that Roberts had exaggerated their danger.
Her horse was rather skittish and did not care for strange hands. He
broke away from the bunch. Joan went after him, even lost sight of
camp. Presently, after she caught him, she led him back to camp and
tied him up. And then she was so far emboldened as to approach the
fire and to greet the men.

"Good morning," she said, brightly.

Kells had his back turned at the moment. He did not move or speak or
give any sign he had heard. The man Bill stared boldly at her, but
without a word. Roberts returned her greeting, and as she glanced
quickly at him, drawn by his voice, he turned away. But she had seen
that his face was dark, haggard, worn.

Joan's cheer and hope sustained a sudden and violent check. There
was something wrong in this group, and she could not guess what it
was. She seemed to have a queer, dragging weight at her limbs. She
was glad to move over to a stone and sink down upon it. Roberts
brought her breakfast, but he did not speak or look at her. His
hands shook. And this frightened Joan. What was going to happen?
Roberts went back to the camp-fire. Joan had to force herself to
eat. There was one thing of which she was sure--that she would need
all the strength and fortitude she could summon.

Joan became aware, presently, that Kells was conversing with
Roberts, but too low for her to hear what was said. She saw Roberts
make a gesture of fierce protest. About the other man there was an
air cool, persuading, dominant. He ceased speaking, as if the