gained food with thought. Joan wondered doubtfully if it were the
ransom of gold he expected to get.

Presently, when all was about in readiness for a fresh start, she
rose to her feet. Kells's bay was not tractable at the moment. Bill
held out Joan's bridle to her and their hands touched. The contact
was an accident, but it resulted in Bill's grasping back at her
hand. She jerked it away, scarcely comprehending. Then all under the
brown of his face she saw creep a dark, ruddy tide. He reached for
her then--put his hand on her breast. It was an instinctive animal
action. He meant nothing. She divined that he could not help it. She
had lived with rough men long enough to know he had no motive--no
thought at all. But at the profanation of such a touch she shrank
back, uttering a cry.

At her elbow she heard a quick step and a sharp-drawn breath or
hiss.

"AW, JACK!" cried Bill.

Then Kells, in lithe and savage swiftness, came between them. He
swung his gun, hitting Bill full in the face. The man fell, limp and
heavy, and he lay there, with a bloody gash across his brow. Kells
stood over him a moment, slowly lowering the gun. Joan feared he
meant to shoot.

"Oh, don't--don't!" she cried. "He--he didn't hurt me."

Kells pushed her back. When he touched her she seemed to feel the
shock of an electric current. His face had not changed, but his eyes