She laughed tauntingly. How strange and hot a glee she felt in
hurting him!

"By God, I'll show you!" he cried, hoarsely.

"What will you do, Jim?" she asked, mockingly.

"I'll shake this camp. I'll rustle for the border. I'll get in with
Kells and Gulden ... You'll hear of me, Joan Randle!"

These were names of strange, unknown, and wild men of a growing and
terrible legion on the border. Out there, somewhere, lived
desperados, robbers, road-agents, murderers. More and more rumor had
brought tidings of them into the once quiet village. Joan felt a
slight cold sinking sensation at her heart. But this was only a
magnificent threat of Jim's. He could not do such a thing. She would
never let him, even if he could. But after the incomprehensible
manner of woman, she did not tell him that.

"Bah! You haven't the nerve!" she retorted, with another mocking
laugh.

Haggard and fierce, he glared down at her a moment, and then without
another word he strode away. Joan was amazed, and a little sick, a
little uncertain: still she did not call him back.

And now at noon of the next day she had tracked him miles toward the
mountains. It was a broad trail he had taken, one used by
prospectors and hunters. There was no danger of her getting lost.
What risk she ran was of meeting some of these border ruffians that