“Cross my heart.”
“Well, then—I’m Black MacQueen, the captain of the Roaring Fork bad men.”
“You!” Incredulity stared from Jimmie’s bulging eyes.
“You betcher. I’m him, here in disguise as a kid.”
The magnificent boldness of this claim stole Jimmie’s breath for an instant. He was two years younger than his friend, but he did not quite know whether to applaud or to jeer. Before he could 230 make up his mind a light laugh rippled to them from behind the vines on the Lee porch.
The disguised outlaw and his friend were startled. Both fled swiftly, with all the pretense of desperate necessity young conspirators love to assume.
Melissy went into the house and the laughter died from her lips. She knew that either her father’s posse or that of Jack Flatray would come into touch with the outlaws eventually. When the clash came there would be a desperate battle. Men would be killed. She prayed it might not be one of those for whom she cared most.