Part 14 (2/2)

Blue flannel s.h.i.+rts, 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 a.s.sortment of handkerchiefs.

”Here's a very fine article, gents,” he said holding out a red silk handkerchief, cl.u.s.tered 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, s.h.i.+rt, 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 anch.o.r.ed,” 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 das.h.i.+ng 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.

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