Cabin Gulch Read Online Free Page A

expect to be caught out.”
    He returned with a blanket that he threw to Roberts.
    â€œMuch obliged,” muttered Roberts.
    â€œI’ll bunk by the fire,” went on the other, and with that he sat down and appeared to become absorbed in thought.
    Roberts brought the borrowed blanket and several saddle blankets over to where Joan was, and, laying them down, he began to kick and scrape stones and brush aside.
    â€œPretty rocky place . . . this here is,” he said. “Reckon you’ll sleep some, though.”
    Then he began arranging the blankets into a bed. Presently Joan felt a tug at her riding skirt. She looked down.
    â€œI’ll be right by you,” he whispered, with his hand to his mouth, “an’ I ain’t a-goin’ to sleep none.”
    Whereupon he returned to the campfire. Presently Joan, not because she was tired or sleepy, but because she wanted to act naturally, lay down on the bed and pulled a blanket up over her. There was no more talking among the men. Once she heard the jingle of spurs and the rustle of cedar brush. By and by Roberts came back to her, dragging his saddle, and lay down near her. Joan raised up a little to see Kells, motionless and absorbed beside the fire. He had a strained and tense position. She sank back softly and looked up at the cold bright stars. What was going to happen to her? Something terrible! The very night shadows, the silence, the presence of strange men—all told her. A shudder that was a thrill ran over and over her.
    She would lie awake. It would be impossible to sleep. And suddenly into her full mind flashed anidea to slip away in the darkness, find her horse, and so escape from any possible menace. This plan occupied her thoughts for a long while. If she had not been used to Western ways, she would have tried just that thing. But she rejected it. She was not sure that she could slip away—or find her horse—or elude pursuit—and certainly she was not sure of her way home. It would be best to stay with Roberts.
    When that was settled, her mind ceased to race. She grew languid and sleepy. The warmth of the blankets stole over her. She had no idea of sleeping, yet she found sleep more and more difficult to resist. Time that must have been hours passed. The fire died down, and then brightened; the shadows darkened, and then lightened. Someone now and then got up to throw on wood. The
thump
of hobbled hoofs sounded out in the darkness. The wind was still and the coyotes had gone. She could no longer open her eyes. They seemed glued shut. Then, gradually, all sense of the night and the wild faded in the drowsy warmth.
    When she awoke, the air was nipping cold. Her eyes snapped open, clear and bright. The lips of the cedars were ruddy in the sunrise. A campfire crackled. Blue smoke curled upward. Joan sat up with a rush of memory. Roberts and Kells were bustling around the fire. The man Bill was carrying water. The other fellow had brought in the horses and was taking off the hobbles. No one apparently paid any attention to Joan. She got up and combed out her tangled hair, which she always wore in a braid down her back when she rode. She had slept, then, and in her boots. That was the first time she had ever done that. When she went down to the brook to bathe her face 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 ratherskittish 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.
    â€œGood morning,” she said brightly.
    Kells had his back turned at the moment. He did not move or speak or give any sign that he had heard. The man Bill stared boldly at her, but without a word. Roberts returned her greeting, and, as