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.