"That's not my kick," declared Gulden. "What you say about Cleve may
be true. But I don't believe it. And the gang is sore. Things have
leaked out. We're watched. We're not welcome in the gambling-places
any more. Last night I was not allowed to sit in the game at
Belcher's."

"You think Cleve has squealed?" queried Kells.

"Yes."

"I'll bet you every ounce of dust I've got that you're wrong,"
declared Kells. "A straight, square bet against anything you want to
put up!"

Kells's ringing voice was nothing if not convincing.

"Appearances are against Cleve," growled Gulden, dubiously. Always
he had been swayed by the stronger mind of the leader.

"Sure they are," agreed Kells.

"Then what do you base your confidence on?"

"Just my knowledge of men. Jim Cleve wouldn't squeal. ... Gulden,
did anybody tell you that?"

"Yes," replied Gulden, slowly. "Red Pearce."

"Pearce was a liar," said Kells, bitterly. "I shot him for lying to
me."

Gulden stared. His men muttered and gazed at one another and around
the cabin.

"Pearce told me you set Cleve to kill me," suddenly spoke up the
giant.

If he expected to surprise Kells he utterly failed.

"That's another and bigger lie," replied the bandit leader,
disgustedly. "Gulden, do you think my mind's gone?"