The Border Legion

"Dandy Dale's outfit," he said, with animation. "Dandy was a would-

be knight of the road. He dressed the part. But he tried to hold up

a stage over here and an unappreciative passenger shot him. He

wasn't killed outright. He crawled away and died. Some of my men

found him and they fetched his clothes. That outfit cost a fortune.

But not a man among us could get into it."

There was a black sombrero with heavy silver band; a dark-blue

blouse and an embroidered buckskin vest; a belt full of cartridges

and a pearl-handled gun; trousers of corduroy; high-top leather

boots and gold mounted spurs, all of the finest material and

workmanship.

"Joan, I'll make you a black mask out of the rim of a felt hat, and

then you'll be grand." He spoke with the impulse and enthusiasm of a

boy.

"Kells, you don't mean me to wear these?" asked Joan, incredulously.

"Certainly. Why not? Just the thing. A little fancy, but then you're

a girl. We can't hide that. I don't want to hide it."

"I won't wear them," declared Joan.

"Excuse me--but you will," he replied, coolly and pleasantly.

"I won't!" cried Joan. She could not keep cool.

"Joan, you've got to take long rides with me. At night sometimes.

Wild rides to elude pursuers sometimes. You'll go into camps with

me. You'll have to wear strong, easy, free clothes. You'll have to

be masked. Here the outfit is--as if made for you. Why, you're dead

lucky. For this stuff is good and strong. It'll stand the wear, yet

it's fit for a girl. ... You put the outfit on, right now."

"I said I wouldn't!" Joan snapped.

"But what do you care if it belonged to a fellow who's dead? ...

There! See that hole in the shirt. That's a bullet-hole. Don't be

squeamish. It'll only make your part harder."

"Mr. Kells, you seem to have forgotten entirely that I'm a--a girl."

He looked blank astonishment. "Maybe I have. ... I'll remember. But

you said you'd worn a man's things."

"I wore my brother's coat and overalls, and was lost in them,"

replied Joan.

His face began to work. Then he laughed uproariously. "I--under--

stand. This'll fit--you--like a glove. ... Fine! I'm dying to see

you."

"You never will."

At that he grew sober and his eyes glinted. "You can't take a little

fun. I'll leave you now for a while. When I come back you'll have

that suit on!"