Kells was talking, more like his old self than at any time since his
injury.

Soon they were on the trail. For Joan time always passed swiftly on
horseback. Movement and changing scene were pleasurable to her. The
passing of time now held a strange expectancy, a mingled fear and
hope and pain, for at the end of this trail was Jim Cleve. In other
days she had flouted him, made fun of him, dominated him, everything
except loved and feared him. And now she was assured of her love and
almost convinced of her fear. The reputation these wild bandits gave
Jim was astounding and inexplicable to Joan. She rode the miles
thinking of Jim, dreading to meet him, longing to see him, and
praying and planning for him.

About noon the cavalcade rode out of the mouth of a canon into a
wide valley, surrounded by high, rounded foot-hills. Horses and
cattle were grazing on the green levels. A wide, shallow, noisy
stream split the valley. Joan could tell from the tracks at the
crossing that this place, whatever and wherever it was, saw
considerable travel; and she concluded the main rendezvous of the
bandits was close at hand.

The pack drivers led across the stream and the valley to enter an
intersecting ravine. It was narrow, rough-sided, and floored, but
the trail was good. Presently it opened out into a beautiful V-
shaped gulch, very different from the high-walled, shut-in canons.
It had a level floor, through which a brook flowed, and clumps of
spruce and pine, with here and there a giant balsam. Huge patches of
wild flowers gave rosy color to the grassy slopes. At the upper end
of this gulch Joan saw a number of widely separated cabins. This