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"Have I any real friends a you?" asked Joan

"Wal, I reckon"

"Are you my friend, Bate Wood?" she went on in sistfulness

The grizzled old bandit relint in his bloodshot eyes, "I shore ao I'll stick a knife

in Kells if you say so"

"Oh, no, I'm afraid to run off--and you needn't harood to me"

"Good to you!When he keeps you captive like an Indian would?

When he's given me orders to watch you--keep you locked up?"

Wood's snort of disgust and wrath was thoroughly genuine Still Joan

knew that she dared not trust him, any more than Pearce or the

others Their raw ee if Kells's

possession of her were transferred to theht use Wood's friendliness to soe

"So I'm to be locked up?" she asked

"You're supposed to be"

"Without any one to talk to?"

"Wal, you'll hev me, when you want I reckon thet ain't much to look

forward to But I can tell you a heap of stories An' when Kells

ain't around, if you're careful not to get me ketched, you can do as

you want"

"Thank you, Bate I' to like you," replied Joan, sincerely,