THE BOYS PUT ON STYLE
"You do not know my ability to spend," said Jim, "I may have to plunge
to the extent of several hundred dollars. You see my brother has very
expensive tastes. It will cost quite a small fortune when I buy him a
complete trousseau including diamonds."
"I will pledge my lands if necessary to get the young Senor diamonds,"
said the Spaniard laughingly.
In about an hour's time they came to a large one story frame building
painted a rather light blue, which color had weathered a good deal. It
had a square, false front with a sign on it that read, "Mr. Gonsalves,
General Trader."
They hitched their horses to some well graveled posts, and went inside
leaving Jo's and Tom's horses free to graze at will around, or to stand
under the shelter of some drooping pepper tree across the road. The
proprietor, a short, thick-set Portugee with a close trimmed black
beard, and a gray slouch hat which he always wore, apparently, received
them graciously. The contents of the store were entirely at their
service,--if they paid for them.
"We will miss poor Tom here," said Jo, "he was always our purchasing
agent."
"And a mighty good one," added Jim. "Not even a Connecticut Yankee could
get the best of him in a bargain."
The Spaniard sat in a round armed wooden chair, gracefully smoking a
cigarette, while his guests busied themselves making purchases. First
the boys bought some new clothes, which they retired behind a counter to
put on, and emerged in proper apparel for the plains.
Blue flannel shirts, and pants of the same color, held up by leather
belts, with much glitter of silver on them, then they bought a sombrero
apiece, not after the Mexican style, but of the American type. Jim had a
red band around his and Jo had a blue.
"Now we want some handkerchiefs to tie around our necks," said Jo.
"Of course," remarked Jim with a wink, "something that will catch the
eyes of the ladies."
So M. Gonsalves brought out a brilliant assortment of handkerchiefs.
"Here's a very fine article, gents," he said holding out a red silk
handkerchief, clustered with white horseshoes.
"Nothing the matter with that," admitted Jim admiringly, with a droll
look at Jo. "But this plain red one will suit me. My brother would
probably like the horseshoe one." But Jo also declined.
"I will take the dark blue one," he said, "it matches my costume
better."
"Gee! but you will look like a color scheme," laughed Jim, "blue eyes,
blue pants, shirt, tie and socks, and hat band, you ought to be a sailor
on the blue Pacific."
"The next things are boots," remarked Jo.
"Not for me," said Jim briefly, "I want moccasins. Worn 'em all my life,
and I am not going to change to boots now."
"Fine line of moccasins," said the accommodating Mr. Gonsalves in his
best trade manner. You see he had been in business in San Francisco and
knew something of the ways of customers.
"But it gives us more style to wear boots. You notice that all the
inhabitants wear them, we can buy moccasins too. You wear them all the
time and they will set you down for an Indian."
"When a fellow once gets the idea of style in his head," said Jim
resignedly, "nothing this side of matrimony is going to stop him. So lay
on MacDuff and cursed be he who first cries hold, enough."
"I feel like I was anchored," commented Jim, stepping across the floor
with heavy tread. "I should like to stalk a deer or an Indian in these
things. He could tell you were arriving before you got above the
horizon."
"But you look fine in 'em," said Jo.
It was true that he made a striking figure in his blue togs. The lithe
powerful physique, and the strong, resolute face.
"Better look out, Jo," grinned Jim. "No Senorita would look at you, when
they see me dashing over the landscape."
"I'm a pretty stylish looking guy myself," responded Jo, confidently. He
did make a good appearance, there was no doubt of that. Though slighter
than his brother he was well set up, and his frame was well muscled. He
was handsomer than Jim. But there was no nonsense about either of the
two boys and they never gave an unnecessary thought to their appearance.
"Now, Mr. Gonsalves," said Jim, "we would like to look at some of your
man-killers."
"Revolvers?" he questioned, "just step this way. I can fit you out all
right."
He did have a fine collection and Jim examined the different ones
carefully, noting their action and how easily they worked.
"I see you are no tenderfoot," complimented the proprietor. "You have
handled shooting irons before."
"I'll be a tenderfoot before long, if I wear these condemned boots you
sold me," said Jim gruffly ignoring the compliment. He did not care
especially for M. Gonsalves' style. "Now let's have a look at your
rifles." The proprietor actually took off his hat and bowed.
It was evident that the distinguished gentlemen from nowhere in
particular were going to buy out his entire stock.
"Would you be so gracious as to step this way?" he said, "I have the
rifles in the back of the store."
They were so gracious, and after due examination they selected a couple
of well balanced guns and purchased enough ammunition to stand off a few
Indian raids. All the stuff besides what they had on their backs they
packed upon Tom's horse, as Tom was not present to resent the indignity.
"Now the last things are some saddles," said Jim, "seeing that our kind
friends, the pirates, cut up those we owned."
"Senor Darlington," said the Spaniard coming forward and touching Jim
lightly on the arm, "Do not speak of buying saddles. I will see to
that." Jim did not know exactly what their host meant but he thanked him
and deferred to his request.
Now behold the frontier boys in complete costume, with glittering
revolvers at their hips and rifles swung across their backs, upon their
hands were fringed buckskin gloves. They had gone the whole hog as Jim
said.
"I'll take the shine off this costume in about one day," said Jim
grimly, "when I get in the open, I would rather break a broncho, than a
new suit of clothes." There was no doubt about his impressive
appearance, as the sun flashed on the metal of the accoutrements and he
swung himself into the saddle. Even their host seemed to hold them in
higher regard. Different people, different manners.
When they reached the house ranch the first thing Jim did was to find
Caliente. He was in the long adobe stable that was a half-mile from the
house, at the beginning of a wide mountain valley, where the air drew
through from the sea.
"How are you, Caliente old fellow," cried Jim, as he opened the box
stall and went in to shake hands with his old comrade. But the horse
leaped to one side, and then reared up as if to strike Jim.
"He don't know you," cried Jo who was on the outside of the stall. "Take
off your hat."
Jim whirled it out of the stall, and a change came over Caliente. He
recognized his master, and nickering in recognition he rubbed his head
against Jim's shoulder, and took playful nips at his fine new shirt,
while Jim fairly hugged him, and gave him resounding whacks with his
open hand upon his splendid sides and shoulders.
"A magnificent animal, Senor Darlington," said Senor Sebastian to Jim,
"I congratulate you."
It was a true word. Caliente with his proud neck, small but shapely
head, powerful but not too heavy frame, and color of mottled gray was
magnificent.
All that afternoon Jim busied himself grooming his horse until his coat
fairly glistened. He looked carefully to his feed, and saw to his
watering. For Jim was determined that his horse should not be beaten by
the Spaniard's. He knew that the latter's horse must be an unusual
animal. It was not a short race, instead, one of two hundred miles that
lay before them on the morrow.
That evening the American boys presented a better appearance than they
did at breakfast. It was a pretty scene that evening in the long dining
room. The snowy table lit by light of candles and set with ancient
silver brought from Spain. The young Senorita was seated at her
brother's right, and on the other side were James Darlington and his
brother Joseph. As to the impression she made upon them, we will say
nothing, as this is not a romance, but they had a merry and delightful
evening.
Their host and the young Senorita were much interested in hearing of the
adventures of the boys in Mexico, especially that part that referred to
the rescue of the Senorita Cordova from the hands of Cal Jenkins and his
gang. I do not know that The Frontier Boys told it with any less fervor
because the eyes of the young girl, seated opposite, were fixed intently
upon them. It appeared that their host knew of the Senor Cordova, who
was a man of prominence in his country, though he had not actually met
him. So there was one more bond of sympathy between the Senor Sebastian
and James and Jo Darlington.