“Fer what?” queried Bate Wood, curiously.
All the others except Gulden turned inquiring and interested faces toward the bandit.
“The Border Legion,” replied Kells.
“An' what's that?” asked Red Pearce, bluntly.
“Well, if the time's ripe for the great gold fever you say is coming, then it's ripe for the greatest band ever organized. I'll organize. I'll call it the Border Legion.”
“Count me in as right-hand, pard,” replied Red, with enthusiasm.
“An' shore me, boss,” added Bate Wood.
The idea was received vociferously, at which demonstration the giant Gulden raised his massive head and asked, or rather growled, in a heavy voice what the fuss was about. His query, his roused presence, seemed to act upon the others, even Kells, with a strange, disquieting or halting force, as if here was a character or an obstacle to be considered. After a moment of silence Red Pearce explained the project.
“Huh! Nothing new in that,” replied Gulden. “I belonged to one once. It was in Algiers. They called it the Royal Legion.”
“Algiers. What's thet?” asked Bate Wood.