significant thing that at the sound of her voice Roberts started
suddenly and reached for his gun. Then he recognized her.

"Hello, Joan!" he exclaimed, turning her way. "Reckon you give me a
scare. You ain't alone way out here?"

"Yes. I was trailing Jim when I saw you," she replied. "Thought you
were Jim."

"Trailin' Jim! What's up?"

"We quarreled. He swore he was going to the devil. Over on the
border! I was mad and told him to go. ... But I'm sorry now--and
have been trying to catch up with him."

"Ahuh! ... So that's Jim's trail. I sure was wonderin'. Joan, it
turns off a few miles back an' takes the trail for the border. I
know. I've been in there."

Joan glanced up sharply at Roberts. His scarred and grizzled face
seemed grave and he avoided her gaze.

"You don't believe--Jim'll really go?" she asked, hurriedly.

"Reckon I do, Joan," he replied, after a pause. "Jim is just fool
enough. He had been gettrn' recklessler lately. An', Joan, the times
ain't provocatin' a young feller to be good. Jim had a bad fight the
other night. He about half killed young Bradley. But I reckon you
know."