Jack Kells was a remorseless killer, head of a gang that ravaged the southern border. He didn't think twice before he kidnapped pretty Joan Randle on a lonesome Idaho trail. His cold eyes filled her with fear, but her goodness made something happen deep within him. Bad as he was, he knew he had to keep Joan safe from desperados far worse than he. Kells had a price on his head and on his heels. Now loving this woman could cost him his life...or it could make him a hero in this wild, dangerous land.
gone from camp to camp in Idaho--some too strange, too horrible for credence--and with every rumor the fame of Kells had grown, and also a fearful certainty of the rapid growth of a legion of evil men out on the border. But no one in the village or from any of the camps ever admitted having seen this Kells. Had fear kept them silent? Joan was amazed that Roberts evidently knew this man.
Kells dismounted and offered his hand. Roberts took it and shook it constrainedly.
"Where did we meet last?" asked Kells.
"Reckon it was out of Fresno," replied Roberts, and it was evident that he tried to hide the effect of a memory.
Then Kells touched his hat to Joan, giving her the fleetest kind of a glance. "Rather off the track aren't you?" he asked Roberts.
"Reckon we are," replied Roberts, and he began to lose some of his restraint. His voice sounded clearer and did not halt. "Been trailin' Miss Randle's favorite hoss. He's lost. An' we got farther 'n we had any idee. Then my hoss wen
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