The Border Legion

"Well, I'll keep it secret till you want to tell--for two things,"

he said.

"What?"

"Meet me to--night, under the spruces where we had that quarrel.

Meet just like we did then, but differently. Will you?"

"I'll be--so glad."

"And put on your mask now! ... You know, Joan, sooner or later your

story will be on everybody's tongue. You'll be Dandy Dale as long as

you live near this border. Wear the mask, just for fun. Imagine your

Aunt Jane--and everybody!"

"Jim! I'd forgotten how I look!" exclaimed Joan in dismay. "I didn't

bring your long coat. Oh, I can't face them in this suit!"

"You'll have to. Besides, you look great. It's going to tickle me--

the sensation you make. Don't you see, they'll never recognize you

till you take the mask off. ... Please, Joan."

She yielded, and donned the black mask, not without a twinge. And

thus they rode across the log bridge over the creek into the

village. The few men and women they met stared in wonder, and,

recognizing Cleve, they grew excited. They followed, and others

joined them.

"Joan, won't it be strange if Uncle Bill really is the Overland of

Alder Creek? We've packed out every pound of Overland's gold. Oh! I

hope--I believe he's your uncle. ... Wouldn't it be great, Joan?"

But Joan could not answer. The word gold was a stab. Besides, she

saw Aunt Jane and two neighbors standing before a log cabin,

beginning to show signs of interest in the approaching procession.

Joan fell back a little, trying to screen herself behind Jim. Then

Jim halted with a cheery salute.

"For the land's sake!" ejaculated a sweet-faced, gray-haired woman.

"If it isn't Jim Cleve!" cried another.

Jim jumped off and hugged the first speaker. She seemed overjoyed to

see him and then overcome. Her face began to work.

"Jim! We always hoped you'd--you'd fetch Joan back!"

"Sure!" shouted Jim, who had no heart now for even an instant's

deception. "There she is!"

"Who? ... What?"

Joan slipped out of her saddle and, tearing off the mask, she leaped

forward with a little sob.

"Auntie! Auntie! ... It's Joan--alive--well! ... Oh, so glad to be

home! ... Don't look at my clothes--look at me!"

Aunt Jane evidently sustained a shock of recognition, joy, amaze,

consternation, and shame, of which all were subservient to the joy.

She cried over Joan and murmured over her. Then, suddenly alive to

the curious crowd, she put Joan from her.